One more, Bob.

Yesterday, I published a write-up about catching Bob Dylan live for the first time at the Timbre Rock & Roots Festival on my other blog. I thought it would be a good idea to republish it here as well. Enjoy.

[1]

A few years ago, I read an interview with Thom Yorke. I think it was in a copy of Rolling Stone that I found in the bookstore. In it, Thom made one fact very clear: Bob Dylan can really sing. I believed that too. I believed that from the moment I heard–believe it or not–his set on MTV Unplugged. It’s one of my earliest memories of listening to Bob Dylan. It was released in 1995; I was all of nine years old then. I don’t know exactly why I got my hands on it, but I did. Bob’s scratchy voice didn’t make much sense to me at first, and the fact that I was nine was of no help because the lyrics probably flew right past me. But when I got to what I still think of as the climax of the album–”Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” followed by “Like A Rolling Stone”–and it all clicked.

Part of what made “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” work for me was that I could understand it. Here was a man waiting to die, bleeding, gun in his hand, and crying out for Ma. In my melodramatic nine year old mind, that made the most sense out of all the songs on an album that included “Dignity” (one brilliant rendition of it, I might add) and “Desolation Row”. It was performed with masterful clarity, delicate melancholy, and an honest sense of desperation. Every now and then, Bob’s voice went into a primal whine, the sound of a man who really could see death over his shoulder. To think about it now, it wasn’t the simplistic melodramatic fear or sadness that I had had in mind. It was far more complex, and far more evocative, far more… well, mature. My discovery excited me.

The version of “Like A Rolling Stone” may not have been the greatest performance of it ever, but I adored it then. I still love it today, for the simple reason that when I first heard it, it was magical to me. It was the first time I had ever heard such a song, both mean and uplifting at the same time. I didn’t even think that was possible. When he asked, How does it feel?, it felt as if I had asked it. When he castigated this ambivalent figure with, You never understood that it ain’t no good/You should never let other people get your kicks for you, it felt like those words were mine. And when his voice soared going into one of the choruses, I knew that Bob Dylan could sing, and that became a secret that I would keep with me as I proceeded to dig out as many of his old records as I possibly could.

[2]

I went to the Timbre Rock & Roots Festival last night with a deep sense of paranoid uncertainty. I was going to see one of the great artists of my canon: Was I going to regret it when I found the man never quite matching up to the myth? Everyone had been having a go at him since his performances in China: Had he lost it? There was always a faint sense that something could collapse, that an illusion was going to be dismantled, or that time and politics had robbed even the greatest of men.

[3]

My parents never thought that Dylan could sing. How could this sometimes death-drawl belong to a singer? Why does he sound like he’s talking in long stretches? Is he a nascent rap star whose style was a form of droning lyricism?

My mom didn’t have any idea who he was; she speaks primarily Chinese and that was a main factor in her quite different cultural exposure. My dad had heard of him, but this was and still is a far cry from his world. Whatever it was, Bob made no sense to either of them. I was disappointed then, but not quite as disheartened to realise that it wasn’t just my parents. Most people around me, friends and family, seemed to think the same way. You have to remember two things: I didn’t have the people who had any reason to be interested in him, and I was young and didn’t know how to pursue these passions as effectively or aggressively as I can now.

That’s why Bob had to stay my secret for so long. I was something of an impressionable adolescent (who wasn’t?), too fragile to get into a fight, and yet too eager to shatter. Over the years, however, I had to defend my love of the likes of David Lynch (“His pictures just don’t make sense.”), Grant Morrison (“Comic books?! You can’t be serious!”), José Saramago (“Too fabulist, too humanistic, and too unliterary.”), and Dhalgren (“Science fiction?! You can’t be serious!” and “This isn’t proper science fiction!”). Oddly enough, I discovered that it was comparatively easy to defend Bob Dylan. Blame it on the Internet. There was such a huge community out there that I didn’t find it hard to do so anymore. In fact, in a way, Bob Dylan became one of the few I would no longer have to defend.

[4]

On the night, Bob emerged on stage wearing a subdued suit and a hat. His voice was just like it was on the recent records, only even less mellifluous (if that’s possible), yet richer, more resonant, and as the night would prove, more versatile than it seemed to be allowed to be on the albums.

The band opened with a mixture of newer songs–including a remarkable rendition of “Beyond Here Lies Nothin’”–and classics–even if they were comprehensively reworked, such as a version of “It Ain’t Me, Babe” that took me by surprise. This pattern would continue through the night. To put it in a procedural fashion, it was a rootsy, groovy band that trusted in its ability to dive into a blues shuffle, American folk, and tuneful pop with effortless brilliance and genuine relish.

I only have scattered memories of the night. Music-wise, I remember an excellent performance of “Tangled Up In Blue”. And I actually believe that the rocking variation of “Highway 61 Revisited” is better than the one found on the album. Through the night, the band entertained, surprised, and charmed with its sincerity and technical mastery. Bob himself led the charge with his quite unique charisma. He felt his way into the concert quickly and bit into each song with gusto. The audience bought it with equal readiness.

Behind him, his silhouette was projected onto an enormous black banner. And night fell.

[4]

Cigarette smoke, dancing, and lots of beer–I remember thinking, I don’t even drink.

Perhaps one day this will prove to be a Proustian moment of some sort for me.

[5]

One of the two main highlights of the night for me (on a night full of highlights) was a complete reinvention of “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna’ Fall”. As with all his complete reinventions, this surprised me at first. It wasn’t quite the folk-styled protest song of the Sixties. It was melodic and soulful rearrangment that seemed to allow Bob a lot more performative space. I believe that it wooed me–and the rest of the audience, I should think–in a way that wouldn’t quite have been possible with the original arrangment. It was subtler, richer, and had more breadth for emotional complexity. Whether or not he was our prophet, he certainly was our poet. That is, there is more to poetry than words on a sheet. There is poetry to be found in music, and in performance, and the debates about whether or not Dylan is truly a poet in the traditional sense of the word for all I care–last night affirmed that he was a poet nonetheless to me.

The other big highlight was the finale of the set before the encore. “Ballad Of A Thin Man” ran the whole gamut of the emotions; Bob evoked righteousness, bitter condescension, fragile anger, and a deep world weariness with probably his most outstanding performance of the night. His voice was alternately an evocative growl, a measured wheeze, a deep bellow, and a explosive bark. It was a performance that will certainly stay in my mind for a long time to come.

[6]

He left the stage after that. It went dark. It took a while but the band returned to the chants of, One more, Bob. There seemed to be little doubt about what they would play then.

I never quite would have thought I’d hear supposedly five thousand Singaporeans spontaneously singing, How does it feel?/To be without a home/Like a complete unknown/Like a rolling stone, at the top of their voices. This doesn’t even happen at the National Day Parade.

[7]

I’d like to think that Bob hasn’t changed–or perhaps, given that the whole idea of “Bob Dylan” has always been about change, it might be more accurate to say that I’d like to think that he hasn’t changed in a way to become the antithesis of what he seemed to be in the Sixties. I have to admit that the mostly rather scathing reports of his performances in China were always at the back of my mind. Would I have been happier if he didn’t perform “Like A Rolling Stone”? Have I become so cynical as to be unable to view a performance of it as anything but a crowd-pleaser?

[8]

Was he any less of a conformist for resisting our labels of “voice of a generation” and “prophet” and “poet”?

[9]

For the record, I was one of the first to shout along when the song hit the chorus. I couldn’t resist.

Maybe it was the fanboy in me, all too glad to be in the presence of one of his heroes. Maybe I remembered what it was like when I got to this song on the MTV Unplugged album and finally understanding something that I would treasure thenceforth. Maybe I saw the preciousness of human connection, that we were all in his tall shadow, under the sound of his voice, and with words that we shared. Maybe it was because I’d also like to think that having watched people I know and love slowly seem to turn a bit bitter and a bit cynical over the past few years, I knew I had to trust what I felt. Or maybe it was the rush of blood that tends to accompany the recognition of genuine art.

Maybe it was all of these things, and not just.

[10]

Over the years, I’ve had something of–lack of a better term and all that–a love-hate relationship with art. Art of various sorts. I invested a lot of effort and time into an intellectual understanding of art. In the past few years, however, these endeavours have tended towards the anaemic for me. The more I’ve tried to identify and define, the more I’ve tried to put things into any systematic or interrogative understanding, the higher the risk that I will feel removed from it all. Of course, I have none of the insightfulness of Sontag, the eloquence of Barthes, or the intelligence of Bazin, and that arguably accounts for a good part of the my failures to properly examine art successfully in this mode. It has always been a struggle for me to hang onto things that matter to me against the tools that are available to me.

Recently, however–that is, these past few years–I’ve negotiated this better. I find myself being far more of an intuitive than an intellectual person where this is involved. Art that engages me, art that matters to me, art that leaves me with a voice with which to speak or without a desire to, tends to resist easy labels such as technical brilliance, beauty, and artistic accomplishment. All my attempts to describe what I look for in art have ended up in failure. (Being quite averse to embarrassment, I tend to ignore the possibility of an impaired linguistic aptitude and to blame the insufficiencies of language instead.) Therefore, and unfortunately, the best I can offer are the vague and ever-ballooning terms of heart and soul.

For example, the writing of Cortázar matters to me not (mainly) because of its inventiveness, his structural innovation, and his linguistic brilliance, but rather because it possesses facets of a culture, captures the human soul like no other, and is best described as a pulse, perhaps the pulse of living. The music of Radiohead speaks to me not purely on melodic sense, or catchiness, or guitar solos and riffs, but on the stark soundscapes and emotional spectra conjured. Art Spiegelman is a mighty fine artist and a master of the form, but his work resonates on levels so far removed from those that I barely ever have the time to talk about the technical details.

The point is, it’s not always been easy living with this vague, unscientific, and non-institutional love of art. But sometimes, some people make it so easy. Last night, in an hour and a half, Bob Dylan brought with him all the technical things you’d expect him to: master showmanship, instrumental wizardry, and a voice both incredibly experienced and performatively gifted. Yet, these are just the bells and whistles. What we truly got last night was music revealing and enabling our persistent search for human connection; songs that spanned eras and emotions alike, from the mean to the beautiful and ever shade in between, recalling memories as they made new ones; and a performance to keep close to the heart for all the years to come.

Things are not necessarily beautiful in their transience, but some transient things certainly are.

[11]

I can still vividly see people holding hands, in embraces, cheering, clapping, waving, as Bob closed the set with a melodic rendition of “Forever Young.”

It was the first time I had seen Bob live. The way these things are, with constraints geographical and temporal, it is with more than a hint of resignation that I admit that it may very well be the last as well. But never say never, as they so optimistically put it.

So instead, I’ll say, One more, Bob. One more.

[source]

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Quick Impressions

Well, at least as quick as I can make them.

I got my hands on The King Is Dead by the Decemberists, as well as Smith Westerns’ new LP Dye It Blonde. I was about to get Anna Calvi too, but I just couldn’t find it! One for the future, then.

Briefly, I love both albums, Dye It Blonde slightly more than The King Is Dead for now.

The King Is Dead is the Decemberists’ Americana album. It’s pleasant and bright and more than a little sunny. A far cry from the unwieldy Hazards of Love, it strikes me as a very assured and confident performance. Almost too assured and confident, in fact. The music sounds brilliant; the band simply seems to be growing into its own with each new release, at least, sonically. The album is definitely full of wonderful tracks, catchy as hell and infinitely replayable, though I did find one or two slightly plodding. That said, it does feel like it lacks a little something. It doesn’t have the strangeness of Castaways and Cutouts, the vulnerability of Picaresque, or the sheer sense of adventure of The Crane Wife, and as a result, comes across as being a little too perfect. Still, it’s a very pleasant album and I am sure I will be listening to it over and over again in the course of the year. Do give it a shot.

At the same time, I’ve been very impressed by Dye It Blonde. It’s a wondrous piece of work that is ridiculously listenable. Sure, it’s full of fun, as you would expect, but it’s also informed by a remarkable seriousness. The lads may be young and possibly new to the game of love, but they certainly don’t show it. In fact, they seem to know the rules so much better than most. Technically, it is a highly accomplished album, with the synth and guitars filling out the first-rate melodic talents of the band. It’s a young album, an energetic and indulgent affair (and I mean that in the best possible sense). But it’s also youthful in the sense that it betrays the sensibility that no one should be afraid to get heartbroken. What a way to begin the new year in music.

All right, I’ll try to locate a copy of Anna Calvi when I head out on Sunday.

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New Sounds

Oh dear, 2010 is already over. That makes me a little sad. But it’s not all sad: it was a promising year for music, surely. So, here, I’m going to list down fifteen albums (or fourteen-and-a-half) that were released this year that I particularly enjoyed. I don’t quite think of it as a “best of 2010″ type of list, but I suppose that’s the most straightforward way of thinking about it. I’m not a big fan of lists, but there is a very humble motivation behind making one like this: the possibility that you might find something to like here too. So, in no particular order except the one that they are in (incidentally, the picture is not very helpful because it’s not in the same order! How unkind of me), here are my favourite new albums of 2010:

Have One on Me by Joanna Newsom

At some two hours long, Joanna Newsom’s album is pretty epic. That is, it’s both very pretty and all rather epic. In here we find signs of change: Newsom expands her sound to include instruments such as the tambura and genres such as jazz; at the same time, her voice has shifted from its squeaking registers into its sweet timbre. What hasn’t changed is her ability to weave the beauty of her music into a spellbinding whole. And what a monumental whole, at that. There is rarely a dull moment in Newsom’s delightfully crafted two hours. It’s an experience quite unlike anything else in contemporary music, and there’s certainly a case for this being an album that will stand the test of time. So go ahead, let her enchant and enthrall you with her multitude of narratives and succinctly imagined sounds in this highly entertaining folk album.

Halcyon Digest by Deerhunter

Deerhunter is fast establishing itself as one of the most vital American bands working today. Halcyon Digest is a hazy and intimate album that starts offin stark, spare fashion, building it all up into the startlingly brilliant “Helicopter”, a dreamy and masterful exercise in repetition. Against an overwhelming sense of poignancy, one also finds a perhaps ironic, perhaps defiant sense of cheer and excitement–darkly positive, if you will. It’s almost Beckettian in that sense. As I said in my Christmas gift suggestion post, Deerhunter makes music exciting again, but not just music–even life.

Cosmogramma by Flying Lotus

Cosmogramma is an electronic album by the ridiculously talented Flying Lotus. It is an inspired exercise that throws up idea after idea in a consistently unpredictable manner, shifting from one genre to another–jazz one instant, 8-bit videogame music the next–in a way both cohesive and engaging. The result is a thoroughly enjoyable and somewhat challenging album that invites you to discover and then rediscover its complex sounds, intricate subtleties, and sheer ingenuity over and over again.

Lisbon by The Walkmen

At this stage of their career, it’s perhaps no surprise to find the Walkmen so confident in their music. Lisbon doesn’t cry out for attention, doesn’t shock and doesn’t astonish, choosing instead to build slowly, choosing restraint over drama. Surely, there’s still the characteristic dejection of all the band’s music to be found in here, even in these predominantly sunny tributes to the city of Lisbon, but there is also a remarkable feeling that the band is always in control, and always refusing to give in to the highly dramatic. This is a band entirely comfortable with its art, ready to take its listeners into desolation, into romance, and into the things we cannot even begin to remember.

Plastic Beach by Gorillaz

The songs in here are good. At times, they are absurdly good. It almost seems unfair. Sections of it stretch into some of the most riveting popular music imaginable. The writing here by far transcends the earlier work of Gorillaz and what seemed like a temporary collaborative conceit of a sort finally seems to be coming into its own. I was also impressed by the mostly seamless way in which the guest performers were integrated into the album. But it’s hard to do it very much justice with words. In its best moments, Plastic Beach is both forward-thinking and inviting. Most of all, it’s incredibly exquisite. Pop music doesn’t get much more beautiful than this.

Contra by Vampire Weekend

I went into this album expecting it to suffer from Second Album Syndrome in some way or another, but that’s basically about the only way it disappoints me. Somewhat more complex and varied than their debut album, Contra builds upon their hook-making talents and simple brand of pop, taking their chirpy and distinctive sound one level higher. I think it’s impossible not to like Vampire Weekend in some way. Even if you don’t quite like the lyrics (okay, I admit to thinking that one or two lines seem quite tepid) or overwhelming sonic simplicity, the band will probably prove infectious one way or another. Admittedly, one foresees a more unpredictable future for the lads: surely they will delve into uncharted territory in the future. For now, though, their exuberant ditties remain a welcome breath of fresh air.

Forget by Twin Shadow

Along with The ArchAndroid, Forget appears to be one of the most outstanding debuts of the year. Built on a foundation of clever synth and distorted guitars (and excellent writing), it feels like the very best Eighties music. Yet, it also avoids sounding derivative, with a careful complexity and heartfelt sincerity in each of these narratives. It’s an album that can be listened to over and over again (I did!). And it should be, not simply because it’s so enjoyable, but also because it can prove richly rewarding.

High Violet by The National

Well, to throw in a bit of cliche, can the National do no wrong? Rich and bolder than anything they’ve done before, High Violet stands as a progressive step for the band, greater in ambition, more accomplished in realisation. To my mind, there’s very little question that this is their best work yet, which is really saying something. High Violet is astounding, in turns aggressive, dark, and celebratory, but always betraying shades of a revelation.

Ali and Toumani by Ali Farka Touré and Toumani Diabaté

Ali Farka Touré was probably one of the greatest musicians in the world at the time of his death about four years ago. In this album, we find some of his last recordings that picks up from where the 2005 collaborative album between Touré and Diabaté left off. It proves to be an intimate record, with Touré’s guitar working an impeccable chemistry with Diabaté’s kora into something absolutely arresting. And there is something to be said about Touré’s vocal work on some of the tracks as well: it is the voice of a man palpably and consciously pronouncing the last words of his life. A beautiful record in more ways than I can say.

Teen Dream by Beach House

Easily one of the best albums of the year, Teen Dream plays like, well, a dream. It is a remarkable achievement that stands very tall in a year of very good music. It’s an unforgettable piece of work in so many ways, from the exceptional performances to the startlingly brilliant ideas, from its lyrical glow to its haunting beauty. Frankly, Teen Dream leads one through a landscape of sheer genius. With breathtaking etherealness, warmth, and more than a hint of sadness, it sucks you in and refuses to let go. Gorgeous.

This Is Happening by LCD Soundsystem

There is, of course, basically no doubt that James Murphy can write, but with This Is Happening, it seems to me that he’s become quite the performer as well. Murphy’s self-awareness goes well past his self-deprecative wit and into an introspective vulnerability in this new album. And the rest of the story? Well, it’s primo LCD Soundsystem, as you might expect. He takes on the likes of the Berlin Trilogy and he doesn’t even flinch. And why would you need to when you can make music that sounds this good?

Before Today by Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti

This is Haunted Graffiti’s most accessible album to date, and it also happens to be one that you will be replaying over and over again. The impressive design of these songs grab you right from the get-go. The band hasn’t lost any of its quirky charm, but there’s a definite dose of familiarity here. Before Today reinterprets–or even reinvents–classic Seventies music in Haunted Graffiti’s humble and charming manner, and emerges with some of the best individual songs I’ve heard this year.

The ArchAndroid (Suites II and III) by Janelle Monáe

It wouldn’t be unreasonable to suspect an album that covers such diverse musical terrain with its immense range of influences and the musician’s impossible appetite for experimentation. As it stands, however, The ArchAndroid is a dizzying display of virtuosity that doesn’t land on its face primarily because of the talent and charisma of Janelle Monáe. It’s a mesmerising debut that mixes together science fiction, myth, and Afrofuturist themes with spectacular aplomb. It reminds me of Prince at his very best, only perhaps a little crazier, perhaps a little bolder. This album pushes its soul roots as far as the framework will allow, and even into areas that it won’t allow. This genre-bending creation is a thing both new and wonderful, and a shot in the arm that mainstream pop music really needs.

Swim by Caribou

An exceptionally addictive album, Swim is characterised by an urgent need for invention, but also a deft touch. There is an obvious simplicity that underlies the good bulk of these tracks, and then it’s like making a gorgeous cake, building up layer upon layer of attractive hooks and intriguing sounds into a thrilling whole. It may be awfully difficult to follow up an album like Andorra successfully, but Caribou has somehow managed to do so with aplomb.

The Broken Dreams Club EP by Girls

I began this list with the longest item in the list, and I’m going to end it with the shortest one. The American duo returned this year not with a full-length album (oh if only!), but with a rather beefy EP that I fell in love with instantly. Critics always compare the band’s sound to the likes of Buddy Holly and the Beach Boys, and that’s certainly a useful point-of-view, but I think we can all agree that there’s something novel and interesting going on here. Broken Dreams Club continues from the heartbreaking pop perfection of Album and almost walks casually into new terrain. Closing track “Carolina” reminds me most of Sonic Youth, and I think that that’s telling. This is an EP that showcases the duo ready to expand stylistically. At the same time, the songs here (all six of them!) are thrilling, heartbreaking, and rendered to perfection, as one would expect. It’s an EP that sparkles. Simply brilliant.

Bonus Track

There were a few albums that I really liked this year but I just didn’t have the space for on this list, and I thought I’d mention some of them:

• The Suburbs by Arcade Fire
• Heartland by Owen Pallett
• Royal Toast by The Claudia Quintet
• Small Craft on a Milk Sea by Brian Eno
• The Age of Adz by Sufjan Stevens
• Band of Joy by Robert Plant

Well, that’s all I’ve got, and I hope you find something new to like here. Here’s to a comparably excellent 2011!

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Cars, Mahler, Sleep

Wow, I’m so tired today. It’s not as if I usually don’t sleep so little, so I can’t really explain it.

Yesterday, I bought Gran Turismo 5 and realised how bad I am at driving fast cars. Thankfully, you can’t kill anyone in Gran Turismo. It’s quite a pretty game, though I’m no racing simulator conoisseur, so I can’t really comment on the little I’ve played so far. I think it’s the sort of game that is going to keep me company for a very, very long time. I just want to randomly start it up and do some driving. No completionist pressure and no great impulse to master the game. I’ll just take it at my own pace and get what I want out of it. Which makes me wonder if I should invest in a good wheel or a very good wheel. The monetary difference is… rather substantial.

I added a new Mahler to my collection. This one is Symphony No. 9 by the Berliner Philharmoniker and conducted by Claudio Abbado. I listened to it once this morning. I always loved No. 9. It is one of the most extraordinary and otherworldly pieces of music in the last century.

Apart from that I’ve been listening to:

• Neon Bible (Arcade Fire)
• Distant Relatives (Nas and Damian Marley)
• Jukebox (Cat Power)
• Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenis (Phoenix)

My FYP goes on. I went to school on Sunday to do a little work, and it was the first time I’d been in school on a Sunday. It was a strange feeling, but I liked it because there wasn’t anyone around. It’s nice to be able to work alone now and then. Not that I don’t like people. … Just saying.

I’m going to think about my new website for the rest of the night and hope something comes together. Then I’ll arrange an appointment or two, think futilely about watching football, and collapse into a pile.

Hopefully I get some good sleep tonight.

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Christmas Gift Suggestions 2010

As usual, not quite a Christmas gift guide, but some handy suggestions that might prove invaluable with a month or so to go. Also, there are links in case you can’t see them. So… look carefully.

Books

I’ve read quite a few books this year and here are some picks that I think will please the book-lovers among your friends and family:

• The Implacable Order of Things, by José Luis Peixoto

Poetic, elegiac, and wonderfully ironic, this absurdist novel tells the tale of a really odd cast of characters in their search for lasting meaning. Characters include the devil, a giant, and a pair of twins conjoined at the pinky.

• The Ruined Map, by Kōbō Abe

I’ve always described this as an existentialist’s Chandler novel; a masterwork by one of Japan’s–and the world’s–greatest writers. A private investigator is asked to locate a vanished man, but soon gets more than he bargained for when the assignment begins to challenge his sense of identity.

• Travel, by Yuichi Yokoyama

Here’s manga with a difference: Yuichi Yokoyama’s stylish volume follows three passengers on a train and in its exquisite, wordless beauty, looks for the patterns and arrangements in all things big and small. It just might change the way you look at the world.

• Mourning Diary, by Roland Barthes

For the continental philosophy lover, here we find one of the greatest thinkers of our time trying to deal with the loss of his mother. What’s striking is watching the process of how Barthes attempts to invent a new language–a new structure–to describe his loss and indeed his mourning.

• Scrapbook, by Henri Cartier-Bresson

And one suggestion for the photography book collector. This delightful and fairly gigantic volume is sure to be welcome on anyone’s coffeetable.

All links here lead to The Book Depository, which has free shipping internationally. Don’t forget that they have a Christmas ten-percent voucher thing going too.

Music

No links here because I don’t know any particularly convenient places to get these. Major record stores, as they are called, will surely do.

Here’s some more recent music that I’ve enjoyed this year (meaning, they may or may not have been released this year):

• Station to Station, by David Bowie

The rerelease of this classic album was certainly welcome, and I really enjoyed listening to it all over again. Comes with a fairly excellent concert recording too.

• Emotion & Commotion, by Jeff Beck

Jeff Beck’s latest studio album has an eagle with a guitar for a cover. Apart from that it comes with a nice variety of excellent songs featuring the guitarist at his best.

• Contra, by Vampire Weekend

A delight through and through, Contra is sweet and catchy and really something to savour.

• The Age of Adz, by Sufjan Stevens

It takes a while to warm up to it, and I think some sections of the album are really love-it-or-hate-it bits, and most of all, a lot has been said about its final 25-minute track, “Impossible Soul”, but there are some gloriously odd and engaging parts in here that to me make it worth the price of admission.

• Halcyon Digest, by Deerhunter

A bittersweet album framed by dreamy guitar, Deerhunter delivers an emotionally engaging album full of surprises, invention, and melancholy. It’s an album that’ll leave you excited for music, for art, and even for life.

• Lisbon, by the Walkmen

This tribute to Lisbon is as sunny as you’d expect, yet the music also conceals a waiting dejection. The Walkmen take control of their music, slipping into moments of drama rarely and preserving the album’s elegance and diffuse beauty.

• Clapton, by Eric Clapton

Eric Clapton takes on a crazily diverse range of music in this album and somehow manages to make it work as a whole. I suppose it is the measure of a musician who has thrived on blending all sorts of influences and genres in his lengthy career. I’m not too keen on a couple of the tracks, but many of the rest–especially the blues numbers–surprised me, eschewing overindulgence for masterful restraint.

Of interest, the Beatles are now on iTunes. And there is also this lovely 40th anniversary edition of All Things Must Pass for the George Harrison fan.

Gaming

Having discovered GOG.com, I suppose I should make a plug for two games I have such fond memories of:

• Baldur’s Gate 2
• Planescape: Torment

These are games that every RPG fan will treasure. I’ve spent more time re-playing Baldur’s Gate 2 than any other game. It is a masterpiece in roleplaying game design and is quite an experience. And Planescape: Torment is simply one of the most wonderfully designed games I’ve ever come across. It marries an exquisite story with an intriguing setting and some exquisite RPG design. I completed it again recently and was struck by how whimsical it was: all things and choices can have big effects, small effects, or none at all, but it’s usually quite unpredictable.

Don’t forget that Steam has a Thanksgiving sale ongoing right now, and will probably have a crazy Christmas sale up too. One game I have to plug here is The Witcher. Also an RPG, of course, and I suppose that says something about my life as a gamer.

Other than those two services, here are the games that have taken up the majority of my time on my PS3:

• Castlevania: Lords of Shadow
• NBA 2K11
• Uncharted 2
• Yakuza 3
• God of War 3

Arts Events

Hey, tickets to the Singapore Fringe Festival should be up for sale already, and I’m sure they would be appreciated by any ahem culture vulture. Events include the Necessary Stage’s “Model Citizens”.

There also appears to be a Russell Watson show. Or if local music is more to your tastes (or those of whoever you’re gifting tickets to), then there will be a Kit Chan show too.

Otherwise, there’s Titus Andronicus in Cantonese; an Edward Lam production feature 李心洁; and this very interesting dance performance that you’ll just have to click to find out about in less ambiguous terms.

Random Links

Cat Socrates is having nice little Christmas bundles.

Lumadessa prints are lovely, and now with more owls, though I don’t know if you can get them to ship to where you are in time.

Finally, MollaSpace has some pretty cool products (though I’ve never used the shop before, so pinch of salt and all that).

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Exam Playlist

Yesterday, I made my exam playlist. Here it is shuffled:

[Large readable version here]

It consists mainly of songs I know fairly well but haven’t listened to for a while. Many of them are songs you can sing along to, just so I don’t fall asleep while revising. Some of them are less familiar to me and that’s to keep things interesting.

(You’ll spy Humpback Oak in there somewhere. Support local music!)

It lasts for about 5 hours, as you can see at the bottom.

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Week 12

It’s Week 12. I’ve been fighting many fires, so I’ve not been updating for a while. Here’s a quick rundown on what has been happening:

I’ve just finished Woolf’s To The Lighthouse. A very beautiful book. I’m basically trying to squeeze in as much reading as I can before the exams right now.

Been making friends here and there,which is always a lovely thing.

It’s also a big week. I’ve a couple of interesting things to do (that is, unless you consider assignments interesting as well) and also some big decisions to make. I hope to get things sorted out soon. More on that as it happens.

I’ve also been chasing my submission. And I wonder if I should do something to the two short stories I have on my hands right now.

Yes, next week is the ominously named Week 13, which means school will be over soon. I have one essay left to complete. Well, actually, I have one-and-a-half. There’s also a small quiz early next week. So it’s not exactly plain-sailing all the way to the finish line. The exams loom in incredibly unappetising fashion.

The weather’s been pretty crazy. Incredibly warm sometimes and then inexplicable rain. Today was one such warm day, though today came without the rain.

And that’s about it. Because I haven’t been sleeping and my brain feels like kueh tutu.

There is a new Decemberists song available for download, and you can get it from their main page [here]. I like it. Feels confident and not overdone. I was perhaps less surprised than when they released “The Rake’s Song”, but in a good way. I’m looking forward to the new album.

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Exciting Things

I am somewhat sad and somewhat stressed these days, but let’s not talk about those things today. Let’s talk about exciting things!

I am, for instance, quite excited by the imminent release of Roland Barthes’s Mourning Diary, which sounds so ridiculously morbid I probably shouldn’t have said it, but the thought of more Barthes to read is always a happy one. Plus, I read a couple of sentences from previews here and there and it seems so completely heartbreaking. So in a sense, it’s a book event that I’m looking forward to on the scale of that which occurred back when 2666 was going to be released.

Station To Station just got re-released, and I’m looking forward to giving it a spin once I get my hands on it. I may also check out the new Eric Clapton album.

On the subject of music re-releases, there’s also the re-release of Dylan’s mono albums. I’m no stickler for mono, but I’m curious as to how they will sound. And on top of that, Dark Horse records is releasing new editions of the Ravi Shankar albums produced by George Harrison.

This week is Nobel week! I’m rooting for Bei Dao, Mario Vargas Llosa, Cormac McCarthy, Javier Marias, or Antonio Tabucchi to take it. I know that’s not very likely, but it would be nice to be right once in a while, you know?

Some new ideas! Thinking on them!

This week, my purchase of Derrida’s Of Grammatology should arrive and grace my shelves in due course. I don’t know why I never thought to add it to my library before, but problem solved.

The French movie Le Petit Nicolas, based on the children’s book series, is coming to Singapore, and this excites me for reasons I cannot really mention. I’m quite sure this won’t stay a source of excitement for very long.

I’m quite sure there are a few other little things, very little things, but that’s as much as I can ask for nowadays. Right, back to work.

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Meetings, footie, miscellany.

Meetings + Writing

Today begins a series of meet-ups over the course of the next two or three days. I’m looking forward just to not working. I’m in the final stretch and I really need to take my mind off of it. In a sense, I don’t want to mess up the last bits and have to do them from scratch a second time.

It’s mostly eating and walking around, though I think I may have to keep my eye open and do a bit of shopping. I’m not very sure how it’s all going to work out, but I’m sure that’s not actually a big problem. It’ll work out!

Meanwhile, as I stitch up this first draft, I’ve got to get to emailing to see where my first project is.

FYP

I also have to start picking my final-year project. I’ve printed the list out and narrowed it down slightly, but only very slightly, and greater narrowing-down must take place shortly.

Music

Recent things on my jukebox: Radiohead’s Hail To The Thief., Bowie’s Hunky Dory, Arcadi Volodos playing Liszt, Sonic Youth’s The Destroyed Room, Buddy Guy’s Skin Deep, and Coltrane’s Blue Train.

Book Club

Book club appears to be on its last legs.

World Cup

No, I don’t usually talk about sports here, but this World Cup appears to be turning into a farce of some sort. The refereeing appears to be horrible; the playacting is in its full glory; BZZZZZZZZ; the goal count is pretty low; many teams appear to be playing some kind of anti-football; and then there’s this French mess as well as discontent in the English camp. The surprise results are sort of nice, but that’s about it.

Admittedly, the sport is too big to suffer too heavily from this, but you have to wonder if any of this is going to be on FIFA’s meeting agendas. And even then, there’s no guarantee that anything is going to be happen. The sport has had the opportunity to improve refereeing and has flatly declined the use of more referees and new technologies. Governing bodies also don’t seem too interested in dealing with playacting. And the inflated egos of players in the past ten years will only worsen with the power shift towards them.

It’s a sport that I love watching, but certainly an embarrassing one at times.

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Final Impressions

I suppose I should finish up on the impressions for the Beatles remasters. I’m just going to do it all briefly. (I don’t think I’ll be doing Past Masters, but let’s just say that that’s excellent.)

We start, of course, with that most famous of albums. Sgt. Pepper’s clearly benefits from the remaster. I think both versions sound fine though I’m partial to the Mono version. What’s also interesting is the use of different tracks, which is most noticeable on this album than others, I think. Good Morning Good Morning proceeds with different effects, at different pitches and also different tempos when you compare the Stereo and Mono versions.

All that said, my opinion is that the Stereo edition sounds a fair bit closer to a modern recording, and to that end, I actually prefer the Stereo version of A Day In The Life.

The same things could be said about Magical Mystery Tour, except that I want to add that this tends to be one of the most underrated albums in the Beatles catalogue, and certainly the remasters are a good excuse to dive into it with great attention. The clarity here is fairly amazing, though I would say that the Mono version sounds the richer perhaps because of its balance; the Stereo version appears to be somewhat “over-remastered”, if you catch my drift. That’s not as serious as it might sound, but the impression definitely lingered.

The White Album is spectacular in the remaster. Surely the difference isn’t night and day, but it’s definitely a noticeable cleaning-up. I prefer the Stereo one, primarily because the Mono sounds slightly as if it were being played through a wall. While the same could be said about many of the remasters, the Stereo version here doesn’t seem to suffer so much from the same sharpness/thinness/lack-of-warmth that the respective versions of the other albums seem to. It sounds pretty much like a contemporary album, actually.

To me, the biggest improvements on Yellow Submarine are to be found on the orchestral tracks. Admittedly, though, Hey Bulldog has a lot more punch, and that’s definitely welcome. No Mono version, of course.

On the other hand, the improvements for Let It Be are probably the least noticeable for me. It might in part have to do with the release of Let It Be… Naked all those years ago. I’m not sure.

Abbey Road sounds fantastic. That may be bias on my part because it is after all my favourite Beatles album. It might also have to do with the complexity of the arrangements and instrumentation (arguably anyway, compared to maybe Let It Be). Or it might have to do with how this is after all the most recent of the Beatles albums and is more in line with modern recording techniques. It sounds rich, full, and is basically the perfect way to end your Beatles listening marathon.

Admittedly, I cheated and listened to Abbey Road first, and when I got to The End, I said to myself, “This is the reason they did these remasters.” I’d never noticed the bass before on that, but it was so outstanding in the remaster and was compelling enough to give the track new life. And that’s precisely the reason these remasters are so important. The Beatles have always been compelling and vital, but these remasters enriches the experience, restores voices you didn’t know the lads possessed. The remasters preserve the Beatles at their finest by allowing the enormous character of their music to transcend the technological limits of their time.

Most of all, the remasters remind us that the Beatles catalogue has been with us for some four decades before this immense project, and that it continues to stay relevant, continues to stay alive, is a testament that technicalities in art are simply technicalities. There is permanence in this music because the boys had such enormous hearts, and, well, those were really some damn good songs.

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