Rachmaninoff – Isle of the Dead[play] [buy]

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When Rachmaninoff saw this painting in Paris, he was so inspired that he wrote a whole musical story around it. I find both pieces impressive, and I’m surprised that no filmmaker has yet been inspired enough to further the cycle with a proper film to accompany the music.

Keep listening, because the composer seems to delight in upping the ante each time the dramatic part comes back around. For me, its the quiet parts in the middle that intrigue me the most. Its like a woman in a white dress padding barefoot through the stone courtyards, just out of reach. The goal of the journey, but left behind as the piece ends. Beautiful.

I am well aware of the oddity of my posting a second song off of the same album only a week later, but this song is too delightful not to share.

What I love most about music is it’s ability to surprise you with its changes. A seemingly peaceful song can evolve into a frantic mess, or a major chord can give way to the melancholy of a minor note, drawn out.

It shows talent and understanding in the artist when such moments occur.  It is the hallmark of a great producer when not only the melody startles, but also the sound itself.

The producer of this song, (Chris Taylor,) must be great indeed, for I find myself cheering (as I sometimes do when a moment delights me,) not once, but several times!

Grizzly Bear – Little Brother[play] [buy]

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Photo by Gaetan Lee.

A simple introduction with guitar.

Then a chord with flutes and strings?

Alright, back to normal, though the flute sticks around. Vocals come in, and… A Banjo? Neat.

Things are moving along well, Its an oddly paced song…

WHAT?!!!

What is that, a metal sheet? Clapping? And a chorus of voices! Whoah.

And then a pleasant part edging into a Beach Boys sort of moment (maybe a little Beatles too). The mood has changed, and the drums bring it along (there’s also a lot of weirdness going on in the background).

Oh, and then we’re back again. The main song remains. We don’t go back to the clapping/crashing, but even the memory makes one smile. And it seems like we’re ending on the happy note, but NO!

More song! Multiple voices, blending with the guitars, shuffling drums. Then–

Birds, and an organ, helping the guitar finish the song with an entirely new part. And I love love the voices here.

So strange and wonderful, I couldn’t help wishing for more.

I told you not to wait up for me. These updates are sporadic, I know, but again, feel free to complain in the comments.

This week is a band I found via a recommendation on Last.fm, sent by the artist himself, one Soren Bonke. I was unsure of what I thought until the third song, and then I was hooked. Click on the Free! link when you’re done, the EP is worth your time.

Klak Tik – Zeitgeber[play] [free!]

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Photo by Yenvious.

So, it starts off in a fairly familiar fashion, but it gets to the point and adds in drums soon after. From then on, its a strange carriage ride through a german town, one ill-prepared for the carnival that approaches in a storm from the southwest (france). The townspeople don’t understand the gentle man that paces rhythmically through their streets, handing out candy and paper-dolls.

But his unrelenting kindness holds them at bay, keeping both him and his goods from the witch-fire for the time being (though I think we all know, its only a matter of time.)

It dissapoints me when I fail to heed recommendations given me by my peers.  It makes me feel like I’m showing up late to the game, trying to join in the enthusiasm and pretend I was there when everyone knows I missed the beginning.  But you know what?  In this case I don’t care.  I just wish I’d given more attention to Grizzly Bear before last week.  Their full length, Yellow House, has any number of good songs on it (I think I only skip past one or two now that I’m on my 17th listen), but there’s one in particular that calls to my warped spirit, drawing me in with a croon and a whisper.

Grizzly Bear – Marla[play] [buy]

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Photo by Yenvious.

Creaks and the Wind, then guitar and piano entering together, blending in like ghosts in the parlour.  The vocals are just as ghost like, trippled between two octaves and a third sung through a horn (or a cupped hand).  Either way, the lyrics are blurred as if you were watching the scene through frosted glass.  The strings throw us into a whole new direction.  I love the song, and each stanza throws in new instruments, new arangements, new tonality, until we’re back where we started, with a little more back story than before.

She’s looked everywhere for the blerdeblahd, and you know, propriety dictates that you can’t possibly leave this house without your blerdeblahd.  Stay inside where its warm, with your dear old Marla.

Wow.

I think I always knew that Tom Waits was going to be a part of my musical life. When I was young, I remember flipping past the Island labeled records on my dad’s album shelf, looking for something I’d heard of. Years later I was back again, having just finished reading Naked Lunch, by William S. Burroughs. The simplicity of the Island label caught my eye once more, and I pulled the album out to reveal The Black Rider, a musical about the devil-at-the-crossroads-selling-magic-bullets story, written by Burroughs, music by Tom Waits.

That was the catching point for me, and once I wore that record out, I returned to the rest of the Waits catalog. Swordfishtrombones was a treat and Rain Dogs was the same. The first track off of Rain Dogs is my favorite, and is perhaps a good indicator of the unique music that is Tom Waits.

Tom Waits – Singapore[play] [buy]

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Do you see why I like this? The atonal guitars, the smoke-riddled throat of the singer, the general clacky-bones sounds, they all swirl around your head and draw you into that Tom Waits world of rusting metal shopfronts, one-eyed dwarf captains, and red light streaming from every window. Far from polite society, not so far from the grave, this world is dirty and full of regrets, yet each soul is fixated on the present in a way that only sailors and lovers generally are. Rough and tumble they may be, but one can forgive them this since they’re bold enough to travel to Singapore and return with the silks and spices we Nobles can’t seem to live without.

Away, boys.

This is a strange thing to write, but I don’t have anything good to say about Captain Beefheart. They are far too strange, atonal, and wild for my ears to appreciate more than a handful of their music.

But they are highly influential in my understanding of the limits of music and of the past. I won’t give you a full taste of their truly odd style, but this song is just on that edge. Never forget that this is the band that brought us such songs as Dachau Blues, Neon Meate Dream of a Octafish, and Ice Cream for Crow.

Captain Beefheart – Her Eyes Are a Blue Million Miles[play] [buy]

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So pretty, starting smack from the first note, even in 4/4 its confusing. The music feels like a long hard look into the eyes of your lover, when you’re fully aware that things aren’t going well, and though she says she loves you, her eyes stare at you with the cold indifference that the ocean has, and she’s a million miles away.

Oh, wait, that’s exactly what the lyrics are saying… Well, that means the music and lyrics work together! How novel!

But its beautiful, isn’t it.

I think I’ll try something novel here:

One. I’m choosing to name the next several articles by the Band they’re about. This one is called Inkuyo.

Two. I’m also writing these in the order they will be displayed on this page: ie, if you were to read this post before The Acorn post. Backwards in time.

Lets’ dig in:

Inkuyo – Wipala[play] [buy]

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After having been thoroughly amazed by Baraka, I dug deeper into the film’s soundtrack. Looking through the credits yielded many interesting bands and sounds, including Dead Can Dance, but one sequence in particular intrigued me enough to dig deeper.

Photo by GatoAzul.

Acoustic guitar and pan-pipes played over images of children playing in over-expanded slums, beautiful and somehow separate from the modern world. The music transported the children away from the awful reality and into their own imaginations, flying kites, running in circles, and watching the people pass by. I needed to find that song, and I did. Inkuyo.

I actually bought the CD in a store, something I hardly ever do, but so excited was I to hear what else this band could do. And I was so impressed. The liner notes describe the band as almost-archaeologists, a group of scientists trying to reproduce the sounds of the Incans. And you know what?

They succeed. I believe them.

Here’s one more song for your pleasure:

Inkuyo – El Carnival

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I was searching for some music by Harry Partch the other day, and I came across a site that had once had a whole Partch album on it. Browsing through the page, I saw some songs with interesting titles, and clicked around randomly. One tune I listened to was called Crooked Legs. And I was stunned. It was really good. And so I investigated further and found out something about a band called The Acorn.

The Acorn – Crooked Legs [play] [buy]

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Its the same song I found. The rest of the album is good, but this song is just awesome to me. Trumpets, guitars, vocals all over the place. I received the beginning very warmly, liking the parts, liking the melody. And then, the chorus. I’m stunned. I said that before, but its still true. I’ve been dealt a blow to my cranium that just stops me in my tracks.

And maybe that’s the point, maybe returning to the city isn’t what we need. I should just pick myself up and use my warped legs to get as far away from here as I can…

Maybe I will.

Photo by BellaBim at flickr.

I feel the Big Guys aren’t getting enough attention on this site, what with all the obscure music we present you with. In honor of this, I’ve initiated a series: B-sides. This will showcase obscure songs by famous bands. Fairly obvious, one would think. We begin with Bjork, our favorite Icelandic goddess.

Björk – Glora[play] [buy]

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Had I entered the Said the Gramophone Wonderful Video Contest, I would have chosen this song as my entry. Its strange, simple, full of flutes, and it reminds me of an experimental british detective film from the seventies. Its the scene where the gendarme has to take off his hat to enter the garden and proceeds to walk through a seemingly endless hedge garden, catching glimpses of a nude woman having tea, long brown hair covering her face. And when he finally finds his way out of the maze, there is no nude woman, only an old lady having tea by herself.

And over his shoulder, a curtain moves in the upstairs window of a british house, and we see a glimpse of long brown hair and her large eyes.

Alright, I’ll admit it. I remained a nerd well into college. And when the opportunity came up to take a course on video games, I jumped at it, and dropped my guitar class. During that semester, The Windwaker came out. It was the first Legend of Zelda game on the gamecube, and since I was just finishing up Metroid Prime, I was stoked for another fantastic title from Nintendo.

And I was not disappointed. The game was a little silly looking, but once you got past that, the gameplay was great and the story was right on target. I was impressed enough that when I was assigned a paper in my video game class, I wrote the whole thing in one sitting, and I never lacked for something in the game to praise. I’m no longer certain the paper is that great, but take a look if you wish.

But my favorite part of the Zelda series has always been the music. I enjoyed seeing how innovative the game’s creators tried to be, and nothing stood out more to me than the piece that plays in Ganon’s Tower.

Koji Kondo – Room of Illusion[play] [buy]

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IMPORTANT!!!! When the piece ends, immediately play it again. The piece is meant to loop and my reason for posting it will not make sense without repetition.

The Illusion Room, the Room of Illusion. The stairs go ever upwards, but that’s impossible, because there are only thirteen of them. I adore this song for that reason. While you play the level where this song loops, it feels like you’re constantly going upwards, like the tower is huge and you are scaling it one floor at a time. But the whole time you’re only moving up one or two floors. So it is an illusion, helped by the music.

I’ll let you figure out what’s going on here, but I think its brilliant. Did I mention that I love the japanese?