Es gibt übrigens auch phantastische Coverversionen. Sogar von Joni Mitchell-Liedern. Zum Beispiel The Jungle Line auf Herbie Hancock's Annäherung an ihre Songs auf River: The Joni Letters. Natürlich ist das jetzt Jazz, wobei Joni Mitte/Ende der Siebziger dem Jazz wohl um einiges näher war als dem Pop. Wie Leonard Cohen da den Text vorliest, mit dieser Stimme, die immer noch tiefer, immer noch sexier wird, das ist schon der reine Wahnsinn. Ob der wohl nochmal eine Platte macht bevor er endgültig abtritt?

Stephen Morris drumming on the Licht und Blindheit version of Dead Souls. I can hear the wings of butterflies rubbing the air. Huge wings but so tender and tickling.

I ordered the first new CD after more than three months. Even two to be honest, to avoid paying shipping. After reading the thread on You Follow Me, an album by Nina Nastasia and Jim White, the drummer of the Dirty Three, I had to check it out. I didn't know her music before and therefore it was a very nice surprise when the first song I've Been Out Walking of the just over half an hour long album came out of the speakers. A sparse, haunting affair just with her voice, an acoustic guitar and the drums. Like all the album by the way. She sings of walking ingenuosly outside in the dark and discovering a man from whom she runs away. Apparently the ending is not happy:

In the second half Jim White's drums turn into the lead instrument. The intricate beat is totally mesmerising, it accelerates and decelerates again. Not sure but I think White uses syncopation. In any case his varied drumming fits perfectly to the story which is told in the song. You can hear her run, you can even hear her fall.

If there was a category "If you like this you also like that" here I'd put Michelle Shocked's accidental debut Texas Campfire Tapes, Stina Nordenstam's cover album People Are Strange (especially her version of I Dream of Jeannie) and Gillian Welch's Time (The Revelator) here. Bare atmospheric, sometimes spooky music which seems to be grounded in a very ancient folk tradition. The perfect antidote to the breathless mystical neo-folk by songstresses like Ms Newsom.

The House of Love took their name from Anäis Nin's novel A Spy in the House of Love and they named a compilation which was released in 1990 after the two self-titled albums after it. This song is taken from it and my choice was triggered by this post. Enough foreplay. The song reminds me of my youth in two ways. First the acoustic guitar and the vulnerability coming through in Guy Chadwick's singing make me think of Nick Drake whose music totally enthralled me when I was about seventeen (cf. here). Then it describes a setting I and probably most people know very well. You have met someone, you have talked with that person, you have exchanged telephone numbers and you wait for the other to call. And she doesn't. And you suffer. I suppose Guy suffered as well but at least he transformed this longing into art. And I can listen to his song. And it gives me the feeling that I was not alone with my feeling. Not only that, it also comforts me retrospectively. Thank you, Guy.

I wrote about Ambient 2: The Plateaux of Mirror, the 1980 collaboration between Harold Budd and Brian Eno some tidbits before (1, 2). Here is an instrumental from it - actually almost all tracks except two which have some humming/choir background singing on it are pure instrumentals - which has a very soothing effect on me. I love the calm detachedness of Budd's fluffy piano tone. In the beginning the piano sounds almost like a harp. The notes resonate a little like if the piano was played under water. When closing the eyes and listening attentively to the piece I can literally see the peaceful arc of doves in front of me. I am convinced that this kind of music has a healing quality. It is balm for the wounded soul. By the way the whole CD is in this calm and serene mood. Sometimes not as light and more mysterious but always deep and majestic. I am sure a performance in a church or maybe even better in a cave would be breathtaking. Probably my favourite instrumental album.

I got reminded of the first Electronic album today. Jeff, from the CSO (Central Statistical Office) who was on a stage at Eurostat in Luxembourg in 1991 introduced me to it. It was the album we listened most to in the summer of 1991. He bought it first and then we all bought it. Electronic was a supergroup with Barney Sumner from New Order, Johnny Marr from the Smiths and Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe from the Pet Shop Boys. One of the rare cases in music where the whole was greater than the sum of its parts. At least concerning the first self-titled album. It could be described as sunny synth-pop flowing nicely from start to finish, there is no track which drops off. It is perfect easy listening summer music with a dance component. Probably better than all New Order albums which usually have higher highs but lower lows as well. My favourite song is the album closer, Feel Every Beat. It has a bouncy keyboard motif which culminates in the last minute where it seemingly slows down and reverberates like crazy. Transcendental dance music. Barney is rapping and amazingly it works. Barney's lyrics are throw away as usual. As in most good New Order songs it doesn't matter at all. They don't distract from the music which is exactly what they are for. Johnny Marr's guitar is modestly placed in the background. Adding a little rock touch.

Im Februar 1971 bestand Kraftwerk aus Florian Schneider (Querflöte), Michael Rother (Gitarre) und Klaus Dinger (Schlagzeug). Dieses Trio tourte für ein halbes Jahr durch deutsche Lande. Ralf Hütter war für eine Weile ausgestiegen (laut Klaus Dinger aufgrund mentaler Probleme). Der Versuch, das zweite Kraftwerkalbum aufzunehmen, schlug fehl. Zum einen weil die drei die Livespannung nicht ins nüchterne Studio übertragen konnten, zum andern weil die musikalischen Vorstellungen zu verschieden waren. Dinger und Rother verließen Kraftwerk und formten Neu. Hütter kehrte zurück und nahm mit Schneider Kraftwerk II auf. Negativland ist von der ersten Neu-Scheibe und es illustriert den fundamental anderen Ansatz sehr gut. Während Kraftwerk sich bald in Richtung elektronische Langeweile, die gleichbedeutend mit kommerziellem Erfolg war, bewegte, experimentierte Neu herum und raus kam u.a. ein beatorientiertes krachiges Stück Körpermusik, das ausufert in urbane psychedelische Gefilde. S.a. hier.

Matt Johnson wrote this in his late teens. As he said in an interview on his site it is an innocent song about unrequited love. Something I didn't imagine at all when I heard it first in 1991, eight years after Soul Mining was released. I very much like how this song breaks into two parts. The guitar dominating in the first and Jools Holland's piano in the second. It really becomes a late night song after having been an early morning song in the beginning. I have nothing but admiration for Matt Johnson for turning a feeling as frustrating into such a light pop tune. If I could only transform my obsessions into a beauty like this. Hardly ever has a smile of a woman been turned into such an adequate succession of chords.

There was a single of this song before which I don't like very much as it has a rather typical early eighties new wave production with drum machine, gimmicky synth effects, flute and sax. It feels oppressive in comparison to the breezy album version. It doesn't shine, it doesn't sparkle.