Living In Rhythm

People are not forgiving. We aren't.

We all like to pretend we are, but we aren't. We hold grudges, and we talk behind peoples' backs, and we hold things over peoples' heads. It's human nature, and it's terrible, but that's just the way things are. We get hurt and we can't just let that go. Forgive and forget? I don't think such a thing exists. I think we're all really, really good at pretending it does.

So when a celebrity makes a mistake, no matter how monumental (or on the flipside, insignificant) it may be, it's like career suicide. Which is terrible for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that celebrities are humans and mistakes happen. Should he have said that? No. Should she have done that? No. Does it affect me personally? Usually not.

Why do we care?

(We care because celebrities spend 90% of their time screaming "Look at me! Look at me! Care about the work I'm doing!" That whole practice comes back to bite them when they slip up and want everyone to turn the other way. They've made their beds and unfortunately, we all stand back with our arms crossed and our brows raised and critique the way they've done it.)

So when Chris Brown did something completely unspeakable and terrible (let's not kid ourselves, what he did was disgusting), we all kind of said, "Well, it was nice until we learned you're a complete jerk. Later, CB." It's unfortunate, because that kid is crazy-talented. I'm talking, like, once-in-a-generation talented. Now, I'm not saying that we shouldn't have judged so harshly. We absolutely should have. I'm just saying that with 'celebrity', sometimes the art gets overshadowed by the image (don't get me started on the role marketing and promotion plays in all this). The wires get crossed and we immediately say Chris-Brown-The-Idiot is the same as Chris-Brown-The-Artist.

They are not the same thing. The guy can still sing and dance like nobody's business, but Chris-Brown-The-Idiot made Chris-Brown-The-Artist's audience turn their backs.

I've been waiting all along for him to do something to bring the positive attention back to him. Does he deserve a universal "We forgive you"? Probably not. Does he deserve a universal second chance? Yes. He's a person. A young person at that. He's going to make mistakes like anyone else. The fact that there are cameras in his face and people watching his every move doesn't change the fact that he's still a 21 year old kid. His mistakes are his to make and learn from.

I'm not saying the mistake he made is justifiable - absolutely not - I'm just saying that maybe instead of being closed minded, people should stand back, say, "Okay. Prove you're worth the second chance, kid," and watch him perform.

And then the BET awards come along and he puts on a tribute to Michael Jackson that is so impressive it's almost hard to watch. He didn't take the selfish route and try to outdo MJ. He imitated him, in just about the least cheesy way possible. He proved he can dance better than the best of them (which we already knew from his MTV Video Awards performance a few years ago). Then he sings an incredible song with the perfect message, breaks down in an honest way (no publicity stunt here, people). That means more to the public than any apology he could have spoken on any talk show.

The irony? All he's probably wanted all along is for people to listen to his music, watch his performances, and no one would give him the chance. And now it's a performance that has everyone talking about him in a positive way again.

Good on him for that one. And good on BET for giving him the chance to perform his apology.

Now tell me art isn't the most important and influential thing in the world.

This post is archived under chris brown, michael jackson

If there's one genre of music I admittedly shy away from (other than, like, techno and, say, Miley Cyrus/Leona Lewis/Justin Bieber) it's Christian music. I'm not a religious person; it's just not how I was brought up, really. My parents took us to church some Sundays, had us baptized, took us to communion classes, all that. Then it was up to us to decide. I won't get into a big discussion about why I am not exactly religious. I'm just not.

I've said before that there are a few artists I can listen to sing about Jesus (Vince Gill, Dave Barnes, Brian McKnight). They all have songs that are blatantly about religion and Jesus, and they are still great. Barnes' Your Love Will Never Change and Carry Me Through are amazing examples.

That said, I tend to shy away from strictly Christian artists. (Someone who doesn't believe in love isn't going to buy a compilation of love songs, are they?)

But see, I'm not too closed minded to give any given artist a chance. I'm just not. (Except, say, Miley Cyrus, Leona Lewis, and Justin Bieber.)

So when I heard Love Is Not A Fight by Warren Barfield, I loved it immediately and had to Google him. When his name came up on Wiki with the description of him being a Christian artist, I was only slightly turned off. (Hi, listen to that voice...It'll take more than just that label to make me not at least give his other songs a listen.)

Anyway, I went to iTunes and sampled his music. (Have I ever explained how much I love the thirty second previews on iTunes? I wonder whose job it is to decide which thirty seconds of the songs get chosen. How awesome would that job be? I'd do that in a freaking heartbeat.) There are a couple songs on his latest album that are obviously about Jesus and God and religion, but not in a way that turns me off his music completely. (I don't enjoy being preached at in any capacity, unless I'm actually in a church. I hope that does not offend anyone.)

The bottom line is (and I know I've said this before), if the music is good, it doesn't matter what label is put on it. Folk, soul, acoustic, Christian, country, rap, R&B, rock, whatever. It doesn't matter. If the songs are good, if the music is good, I want to listen to it.

Also, music is (obviously) about expression (as much as I hate using that cliché). So who am I to judge someone for singing/writing about what they believe in? That'd be the most hypocritical thing for me to do, especially since I consider myself a fellow artist. Even if I don't like the music, I'm in no way ever going to tell someone that there's no place in world for what they're singing about. Chances are, if they believe it, someone else does, too. This goes for all genres, all art forms.

And as I write this blog about Christian music, I'm listening to Drake. I'm eclectic that way.

This post is archived under brian mcknight, dave barnes, vince gill, warren barfield

Sometimes we need reminders of basic things. Wow, that sounds pretty cliché, doesn't it? But it's true, and I realized this in a big, stupid way. (Stupid being me. I was stupid.)

A friend of mine gave me a CD of some of her favourite songs. This is always dangerous water to tread, and here's why:

People who are passionate about music see songs as pieces of them. I know I do. I know she does. Songs are not just songs. They connect with you so deeply that calling one your favourite can never do it justice, but you can't generally find the words to explain well enough why it's your favourite.

The second you say you don't like something that someone else loves, it's like a punch in the heart. I've felt this first hand. It's not pleasant, and you scramble and blink fast and try to remember to breathe and find a way to make them hear the song the way you hear it. Sometimes you can. Sometimes you can't. It's like you're defending art that isn't even yours, but is, in a way that's really hard to pinpoint; like it's attached to you, a part of you, and you need to defend it, lest you be hurt or put down in some way.

I hadn't heard of quite a few of the artists (many of them local) on this mix before, and I was excited to listen. And I got caught listening to the songs, but not really listening. (This means I had my headphones on and the music playing while I was at work and trying to put out fires and whatnot; I wasn't focused on the music.)

I should have known better. Further to that, I should have known better than to tell her I loved some, but not all of the songs. Silly me. I never judge quickly. I just don't.

I'll give anything a chance to make me fall in love with it.

Not that I didn't give these songs a chance, but I didn't give them enough of one, clearly.

And it took an email from her asking what I didn't love to make me realize that, "Shit. I don't have an answer for that." I tucked my proverbial tail between my legs, grabbed my headphones, ignored the influx of emails to my work address, and started listening.

I don't dislike any of these songs. I really don't. I like some more than others (completely natural), but they're all great. I'm pretty picky about spoken word, and I didn't give Dan Mangan enough of a chance. Wonderful. The Fugitives are great. And I Am The True Vine...well, I loved that one from first listen.

Anyway, point is, I have to apologize for being a bad music lover and not taking the time to really understand what makes these songs so amazing.

I'm enough of a music nerd (lover) to make a promise to myself to not let this happen again. My record collection is huge and eclectic because I don't close the door on any genre or artist.

Because honestly? You never know when you're going to hear a line like "Some of us fall in love with walking, talking tragedies."

It'd be a shame to miss out for no good reason at all, wouldn't it?

This post is archived under dan mangan, the fugitives

Since I was little, one of my dreams has been to sing the anthems (Canada and US) at a sporting event. Preferably an Ottawa Senators game, though Lyndon Slewidge has that locked down and no one can do it like he does. Or a baseball game, which would also be amazing. I've sung the Canadian anthem at events before. It's an amazing feeling, staring at the flag, listening to the crowd sing along. It's something really special that is pretty difficult to describe.

I've wanted to write this post for a while. I got a friendly nudge on the weekend, someone telling me I need to write about music more. I don't disagree with this.

And then today, as I was listening to rare home video of Brian McKnight and his sons singing the anthem, my coworker asked if I'd seen the Glee cast singing it at the World Series (of course I had). Strange coincidence, both of us listening to an anthem (not even our own) at the same time. So that inspired this post.

Ready? The best US Anthem performances, in my opinion.

#1: You know it. It's Whitney. It has to be. Ask anyone who knows anything about anthems/music/acoustics/live performances in huge venues, and they'll probably bring up this performance, if they're geeky like me and know a bit of history of anthem performances. Anyway. The fact that this took place during Desert Storm just gave it more meaning. I can't even describe how amazing this is, how she follows the orchestra, rather than trying to make the orchestra follow her (a lot of singers can be guilty of this). She displays her vocal skills without trying to overtake the song (an anthem no-no). It's tasteful, patriotic, and generally awesome. People say this is pre-recorded, but I don't believe it is. Even if it was? I don't care. It's amazing.

#2: Jordin Sparks. Okay, so this is pre-recorded. Whatever. I can't blame her. You try singing in a big, huge space that's meant for sound to echo for effect (fan noise is important, too, you know). The point is, no matter whether she sung live, she sings the hell out of it. That said, I was skeptical about this at first. I wondered how many takes she took in the studio to get this to sound so good. Then I watched this (Shaq is impressed). And this. Bottom line is, the girl can sing the hell out of this anthem, live or not.

And as usual, I have a number one and a number two, but I can't really rate the rest of them on a scale, so here they are in no particular order.

Marvin Gaye. Just...Just listen. You can't say anything bad about this. Anthem purists might, but listen to the commentary at the beginning. And then listen to the crowd. They love it. Marvin is just magic, people. Just magic. And to quote someone who commented, "Only Marvin Gaye could turn the national anthem into something you could have sex to." Truth.

*NSync. Y'all know I love pretty much anything a capella, and I love pretty much anything *NSync (don't judge; they're fantastic and you know it). The harmonies on this are ridiculous. No one pushes the tempo. No one sings off key. Instant chills. Give me five part harmony with these guys any day of the week, and it'll make some list of mine.

Celine Dion. (Ignore [or don't, either way] the extra stuff at the end of this vid.) Seriously. If anyone ever questions hers as legitimately one of the best voices of all time, just make them listen to her sing something a capella. Talk about power. And no, maybe there's nothing spectacular about this rendition, but it's Celine, and pretty much anything she sings can sound like the most amazing thing on the planet, just because she puts her whole freaking heart into everything. And do yourself a favour and listen to her God Bless America while you're at it.

James Taylor. It's not fantastic or anything, but it's James freaking Taylor, and it sounds like him. So forget it. It's on my list.

Anthems I surprisingly really dislike: Carrie Underwood (snoresville), Boyz II Men (how 'bout a melody line, boys? there're four of you...), Mariah Carey (whisper singing = lame).

This post is archived under celine dion, glee, james taylor, jordin sparks, marvin gaye, nsync, whitney houston

So I've been listening to a lot of rap lately. By a lot of, I mean almost exclusively. I blame the nicer weather. Something about sunshine just makes me want to listen to rap and hip-hop. Whatever the reason, at any given moment, you could walk past my office and see me mouthing words to rap tunes. It's fine.


Then I remember this performance from the Grammys a couple years ago. The Rap Pack. Swagga like Us. Four of the best, all on one stage.

Which got me to thinking, who are currently the best? In my opinion, of course. So what does this mean? A list.

Jay-Z: Any doubt? No. Undisputed. Well, maybe that's not true, but if someone were to argue with me, I would put forth a very passionate argument stating why he is the best. The BEST. One of those reasons would be this. And also, lines like, "Books can guide you, but your heart defines you." I cannot say enough about Jay. It would all be pretty redundant after 'brilliant' anyway.

Lupe Fiasco: He is a close second. Listening to this guy songs means you're listening to stories. Honest to goodness stories. I suppose a lot of rappers do this, but not like Lupe does. He belongs to a select group of rappers who fall into the category of 'Smart Rap' (at least this is what my bro and I call it.) And it's because of songs like this one. One of my favourite lines (from anyone) to rap along to is "You don't want a loan, leave my cologne alone / It's a little too strong for you to be puttin' on." (From I Gotcha. Take a listen and you'll see why it's fun.)

Kanye West: The guy is a genius. Pure genius. I think I could forgive him just about anything, so long as he continues to put out incredible albums and influence popular music the way he has since The College Dropout came out. At the end of the day, I'd rather have a genius acting like a jackass, than a no-talent, manufactured starlet acting all prim and proper. No lie. "I forgot better shit than you ever thought up." That's still one of my favourite things he's said in a song. I can't even pick a favourite song of his; I just can't.

Common: Another smart rapper. Just kind of sails under the radar and makes consistently stellar music that tends to be thought-provoking, or at the very least, about something different than what everyone else is rapping about. Like this. Be remains one of my favourite rap albums.

Lil Wayne: I first heard Wayne on that kick ass song Soldier by Destiny's Child (which was also, coincidentally, the first time I really heard T.I. too.) To be honest, I didn't believe the hype at first. I didn't get where this guy came from, what the big deal was. Oh good, another rapper with dreads and a popular song. And then I Wiki'd him and he has been around forever. So naturally, I felt like an idiot, and like I had to catch up on what this guy has been doing, what kind of music he's been making all this time. He is legitimately awesome. Then, since I love Robin Thicke and bought his album Something Else, and Tie My Hands completely sold me on Wayne. Brilliant.

T.I.: There has always been something about T.I. that I have just love. It's his swagger, I think. The lilt to his words and his overall attitude. I can't say enough about that. I admit that most of my listening to T.I. was through his collaborations. Then Dead and Gone came out, and I was forced to buy Paper Trail, because this song just completely sold me on him.

So yes, there are many more rappers who are pretty great. Drake is one. I can't wait to see what he does next. But as far as my favourites, the ones who, in my opinion, are the best out there, this is the list.

This post is archived under common, drake, jay z, kanye west, lil wayne, lupe fiasco, robin thicke, t.i.

John Mayer says stupid shit from time to time. This should come as a surprise to absolutely no one. He's been doing it for years. Taken out of context, a lot of the things he says can be, and often are, absolutely ridiculous.

But you know what? At least he says what's on his mind. He'll never be one of those 'celebrities' you look at and wonder just who in the hell he is. We know who he is, because he tells us. Through his music, mostly, and sometimes through his interviews.

And maybe he goes to far, says the complete wrong thing and doesn't make his point as clearly as he could or should. But he tries. He ventures to explain things that no one else can or will. Even if he fails at that, isn't there something to say about him going for it? I think there is.

In recent years, it seems that the majority of people seem to think that freedom of speech is great!.....

Freedom of speech, but only if what you're saying doesn't piss anyone off. That sounds like a great policy to me! (That's sarcasm, by the way.)

There is, frankly, too much media in the world today. Absolutely too much. Probably about 400% too much. And about 95% of the excess is absolutely trash; garbage that no one should support. But they do, and then artists get asked for more frequent interviews, and they have to think of new things to say. They get asked about things that they have no business commenting on, just because the interviewers need to have something to ask, something to record on their little tape players and take back to their editors.

My point is that if you actually read the interview, an open-minded person can comprehend what he was going for, what point he was trying to make. He may not have done a stellar job of it, but he wasn't being malicious, racist, or anything else. He was just a guy giving his opinion when he was asked for it.

All this has nothing to do with me thinking that he can do no wrong. I've been accused of this before, and it's absolute bullshit.

I respect him because he doesn't have a problem saying 'This is who I am. Take it or leave it.' He doesn't pander to the masses, though he certainly has the masses he could pander to. At the end of the day, he says what he wants, makes the music that he wants, and he can do it because he's a brilliant musician. This isn't to say that gives him a free pass to just say whatever he wants to say and there won't be consequences, and I think he knows that too.

And he's a smart and gracious enough person to give genuine apologies when he knows he has to.

Can't really say that happens too often with celebrities these days, can you?

This post is archived under john mayer

I had the chance to go see the VSO for the first time on the weekend. Remember my blog about Rhapsody in Blue?

I had no idea Maestro Bramwell Tovey was such a funny guy. He started the evening by saying, "Welcome to a non-Olympic event!" and the jokes kept on coming. Can't say I've ever laughed at the symphony before. It was a wonderful experience.

The evening started with Strike Up The Band, which was both fitting and cheeky. I was four rows back, right in front of the harpist. So close. Too close. I could literally read the sheet music of a few of the violinists. Too close. I prefer to watch symphonies from the balcony, since not only is it a better visual experience, to be able to see everyone playing, but I also find the sound is a million times better.

Next up was Grofe's Grand Canyon Suite: On the Trail, which is just an amazing piece of music that tells a story like you wouldn't believe. Talk about cheeky. You can practically hear the donkeys at the bottom of the Grand Canyon as this is played. Wonderful.

The composer in residence with the VSO right now is Scott Goode, who showcased a 25 minute long piece (Between the Rooms for Trumpet and Orchestra) that people went nuts over. I was not a fan of it at all. Like, at all. It was disjointed, it was a trumpet feature (the only trumpet I can really tolerate is jazz trumpet), and none of the movements seemed connected at all. I feel like he tried to do something really, really cool, but he missed the mark. It was just too much. Too much brass, too much percussion. It was too eager, like he was trying to say, "Look at this! Look how complex this is!" instead of letting the music speak for itself.

I also said all this to my friend without realizing that the composer was standing about 5 feet away (damn seats close to the stage!).

And what do I know? I'm no composer.

I was a little wary when I didn't see a feature pianist listed in the program. After all, Rhapsody in Blue is a piano piece (which, if you know the history behind it, you can understand better). I certainly didn't expect that Tovey would play the piece himself, standing periodically to give cues and conduct. I've never seen anything like that either. It was kind of amazing, actually, to see a symphony practically conducting itself while the maestro lost himself in the music.

The night ended with the Porgy and Bess suite, which is where the great 'standard' Summertime comes from. The suite was beautiful, again telling the story vividly, without confusion. When it was supposed to, the music sounded like New York. Conversely, it sounded like desperation at times.

I walked away wondering what more Gershwin could have done if he hadn't died at 38.

And also thinking that I was too close to the stage, but not close enough to the music. I wanted to be playing it, to be a part of it. This hasn't happened in a while, the urge to dig out the flute and run some scales, play some of my old concert pieces. It was nice to have that inspiration.

Not so nice to spend the rest of the weekend wondering what could/would have happened if I'd stuck with the music in the first place...

This post is archived under gershwin