Brave New World
I can't help but think of a term thrown around in the seventies when I hear Kid A: Future Shock. The idea was that modern technology was transforming our society at such speed that the world one was born into would bear little resemblance to the one of his/her adulthood. While "OK Computer" outwardly attacked the homogenization of modern society, "Kid A" works its way inside-out from the belly of the beast; here, Radiohead captures the language of isolation, and expresses the apathy, the ennui, and, finally, the repressed violence of a lost generation.
"Kid A" is set in a very different context from "OK Computer," embracing keyboard sounds, filters, computer processing: this furthers the overall metaphor by placing more distance between the listener and the artist. "Soundscape" is a term thrown around when people refer to this CD. The songs are set into large, open musical spaces that give a drifting feeling to all the songs; this effect is brought foward in the instrumental "Treefingers" as a strong expression of helplessness. "Treefingers" is a bridge between "Kid A's" primary section, which is more contemplative and complacent, and the secondary, dealing more with anger and violence aimlessly escaping into its evironment of complacency. "How to Dissapear Completely's" refrain "I'm not here, this isn't happening" is a disassociation from the world and from one's self. It's mirror image, "Idiotecque" rebels against this in its warning "We're not scaremongering, this is really happening;" the voice now looks with fear and hatred.
What begins in the lines of "Everything in its right place/yesterday I woke up sucking a lemon" (ie a good, organized life in which one feels a nagging sense of incompletion) later comes to terms in Morning Bell: "You can keep the furniture, A bump on the head...Where'd you park the car? Clothes are on the lawn..." A divorce scenario ("Cut the kids in half") describes the breakdown of and breakaway from modern institutions and societal pressures.
This might seem ridiculously analytical, but Kid A is that kind of CD. As "Everything..." concludes "There are two colors in my head:" the noise of modern society, of modern living, fills our minds all the time, and is often at odds with itself. Radiohead attempts to come to terms with this dichotomy, or, perhaps, decides, "I think you're crazy, maybe..."
Nothing Else Sounds Quite Like This
The Japanese indie band Ghost are something of an enigma to me: the word is that they live as gypsies all across Japan, thus embodying the hippie spirit conveyed in their psychodelic albums. Lama Rabi Rabi is the strongest of their cds; a compelling mixture of psychodelic rock and roll, ambient world-folk balladry, and jazz-like musicality.
The opening track, "Masttillah," is an 8-minute drone that feels like a hashish den tucked away in Tangiers; then the title track cuts in with its rythmic chorus chanted repeatedly. "Into the Alley" is a gorgeous ballad with acoutic guitar echoing into the distance. The rest of the album is a blend of electric guitars that feel like they came right from Led Zeppelin I, mythic flutes blowing faintly in the distance, and ambient percussion and found sounds. "Marrakech" and "Mex Square Blue" stand out for thier very clever compositions and impeccable production. "My Hump is a Shell" serves as an interlude and uses a theremin against a gentle acoustic guitar. The album then winds down and rounds off with "Agate Scape," a lush, jazzy piece showcasing Masaki Batoh's haunting voice and melody, as well as the etherial piano playing that comes to amazing climax. Remarkably, this cd goes from point A to B with such grace that one almost forgets the shifts in style it makes!
While all of Ghost's albums are worth a listen, this one really shines as a coherent work of great songwriting and awesome production, with each song working off the others to create its own time and space.
The Dao of Sade
Probably the most remarkable element of Sade's albums (and what sets her albums apart from the "smooth jazz" moniker), is what is not played instead of what is played. "Stronger..." maybe the best example of this "less is more" aesthetic, and denotes the band's broadening musical palette.
The title track is sort of a thesis for the album: minimal percusion, subtle vocals harmonies, and the controled use of guitar and keyboards create a certain atmosphere, a feeling of tropical islands and breezes. "Nothing Can Come Between Us" is a good example Sade's simple (in a good way) lyrical potency: "in the middle of the madness/
when the time is running out/ and you're left alone/ all i want is you to know that/ it's strong still/ can't pull us apart." It also introduces some gospel and blues themes. There's the gorgeous "Haunt Me," which does just that with its lush piano. My favorite is "Give It Up;" it has such a subtle build up, and then layers the lyric elements in such a perfect way.
Not to say the album doesn't have its duds. "Clean Heart's" soft elegance borders on monotonous (plus, I've never been a fan of her "social conscience" songs). "Turn my Back on You" is a rather limp attempt at funk, though the guitar rift is pretty cool. And "siempre hay esperanza," well, I think I've skipped this song every time I listen the album, so there you go.
Still, all in all, this is really the first album where the Sade sound came into adulthood, and its uncommon depth amazes me (as it accomplishes it so subtly). So few in rock and pop understand how to use negative space in their music; Sade is one of the masters of that technique.
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