As I mentioned yesterday, a really good mashup goes farther than slapping the vocals over the top of an instrumental track. And like most art, or any idea for that matter, for every thousand or so half-assed attempts to slap something together, there arises one piece of brilliance that makes the rest of the crap worthwhile. Phil Retrospector's brutal distortion of Marvin Gaye's classic is one of those shards of brilliance.
Phil takes Marvin's sexually charged funk staple and forces it deep into the dark bosom of Wendy Carlos' electronic soundtrack to A Clockwork Orange. Not only does this pervert the entire meaning of the song (have you seen the movie?), it creates a damn spooky tune. Somehow, probably through pitchshifting or AutoTune, he manages to cast Marvin's vocals into a decidedly minor key such that they perfectly fit the eerie, almost frightening, soundscape Wendy created. In addition, Phil has Marvin cooing to himself in the background like some ghostly, whispering backup singer. The result is clearly something new, freaky, yet engrossing, and a strong argument for the legitimized existence of mashup culture.
Naturally, you can't purchase this mash anywhere, but you can purchase the original "Sexual Healing" on Marvin's 1982 release, Midnight Love. Wendy Carlos' soundtrack for A Clockwork Orange is available on CD as well.
[You can listen to Phil Retrospector's mash of Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing" by navigating to the post "Song084" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]
I'm not sure what Tim Buckley was thinking. After establishing a somewhat decent career as a folk singer, he got fascinated with avant garde music, and started weaving ideas he heard from composers like Iannis Xenakis and free-jazz musicians like Ornette Coleman into his songs. He also began using the, uh... 'full range' of his voice. I guess that means he shrieks and he moans.
I know I sound like I'm knocking it a little, but both Starsailor and Lorca are two of my favorite albums. Like I explained in the article about the Mae Shi, I really dig the deconstruction of rock that manages to keep the rock, and that's what's happening here. There's a repeated riff that the band jams on over and over while Tim gasps and howls over the top of it.
The lyrics read like a hippy-dippy version of a murder ballad. Something bad went down, and the singer was involved somehow, but it's not particularly clear. Still, there's an urgency conveyed by the band and Tim's growling vocals that really sells the song to me.
It may not be your cup of tea, but that's okay, because 1970's Starsailor isn't available on CD anyway. Well, you can get a used copy for like 50 bucks. But you can buy the actual MP3s all legal and stuff, direct from Amazon for 6 bucks. Maybe from iTunes too, I have no idea.
[You can listen to Tim Buckley's "Monterey" by navigating to the post "Song033" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]
Before 50 Cent and Lil Wayne there was Serge Gainsbourg. He penned a little ditty for France Gall called "Les Sucettes", which means, I'm pretty sure, "The Lollipops" in French. While ostensibly being about Annie's anise-flavored lollipops, it's actually full of erotic double entendres and dirty French puns, mostly about lollipops. Go figure.
Serge's popularity went through a little surge back in the late 90's. Like Bacharach before him and Leonard Cohen today, it seemed like anybody who wanted to be taken seriously as a performer had to cover a Gainsbourg tune. About this same time, John Zorn was curating a (sadly short-lived) series of compilations called "Great Jewish Music", in which he would choose a composer of Jewish heritage and get his stable of Tzadik artists to cover a slew of their songs. They handled Bacharach & Gainsbourg, and later Marc Bolan. Sadly, they never got to Paul Simon, Leiber & Stoller or Gene Simmons. Or Barry Manilow. Oh, or Neil Diamond!
Jon, as this artist is known, is another matter. She's Japanese and she plays a pump organ. And that's all I know, as "Jon" doesn't exactly Google well.
I think I promised somewhere that I wouldn't post anything I didn't actually enjoy listening to. And that's important, because there are people who like stuff simply because it's so weird and/or awful that you couldn't possibly actually like it. You should know that, if I offend your ears, it's not because I'm trying to somehow aurally gross you out. I really do enjoy listening to the music on some level. So, no Three Stooges Christmas albums or William Shatner singing Rocket Man, just music I enjoy and think is interesting enough that you should hear it too.
Jon definitely falls into that 'avant-garde' or 'weird' category. First, her voice sounds like a twee little six-year-old, which is somewhat appropriate (and creepy) given the nature of the song. Second, her organ sounds like it's dying of old age. You can hear every creak and moan, every push of the pedals and puff of air. You can almost hear the dust floating about in the dimly lit haunted-house of a room this must have been recorded in. And yet, that's what gives the recording it's appeal for me. The music isn't just in the song, but it embodies the Cagian idea that all aspects of the performance are part of the music; that the wheezes of a dying organ are just as musically important as the notes and lyrics Serge originally penned. I couldn't listen to a whole album of this stuff, but this tune is both fascinating and enjoyable. I hope when you listen to it, you get a chance to revel in the artifact and the atmosphere.
You can find the tune on the excellent Tzadik compilation Great Jewish Music: Serge Gainsbourg. Most of the rest of the tunes are far more traditionally musical than this one (though a few aren't). While you're at it, you should grab the Burt Bacharach one as well. You can skip the Bolan one. I believe they missed Marc's whole point with that comp, and as such, it's just not as good.
As I mentioned yesterday, a really good mashup goes farther than slapping the vocals over the top of an instrumental track. And like most art, or any idea for that matter, for every thousand or so half-assed attempts to slap something together, there arises one piece of brilliance that makes the rest of the crap worthwhile. Phil Retrospector's brutal distortion of Marvin Gaye's classic is one of those shards of brilliance.
Somehow, probably through pitchshifting or AutoTune, he manages to cast Marvin's vocals into a decidedly minor key such that they perfectly fit the eerie, almost frightening, soundscape Wendy created. In addition, Phil has Marvin cooing to himself in the background like some ghostly, whispering backup singer. The result is clearly something new, freaky, yet engrossing, and a strong argument for the legitimized existence of mashup culture.
Naturally, you can't purchase this mash anywhere, but you can purchase the original "Sexual Healing" on Marvin's 1982 release, Midnight Love. Wendy Carlos' soundtrack for A Clockwork Orange is available on CD as well.
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