About 15 minutes into this yesterday afternoon’s workout, Adele’s “Right As Rain” came on. Mentally singing along and pedaling to the beat, I thought that it would be a stellar idea to write an essay about the one track. Alas, I’m no Nick Hornby, who, in 31 Songs (Songbook in the U.S.), does exactly that. To this date, I have yet to hear any of the songs about which he waxes eloquent, but I suppose that anyone who shows the slightest appreciation of music would well relate to the place it can have in people’s–especially non-musicians’–lives.
Without further ado, I present you a list of the top 25 most recently played songs, according to iTunes/my iPod. I can assure you that like last.fm, this stuff doesn’t lie and will once and for all prove my true musical colors.
Yelle
01. Dans ta vraie vie
02. Ce jeu
22. À cause des garçons
One of those hyped electropop artists about whom I first found out via one of those cool Spanish magazines, either NEO 2 or Vanidad; I can’t remember. I was at first sort of turned off by said hype. After all, everyone cool seems to be into synthpop, vivid colors, and cute francophone chanteuses with severe haircuts. I ultimately succumbed to it, because I also apparently love the same things, and as an additional lame excuse, I thought I would put my undergraduate training to work. Pop-Up is an addictive album, orbiting an aural sphere quite unlike the one towards which I usually gravitate. The fanfare is most manifest in the tracks listed above: “Dans ta vraie vie” talks about a guy who remains attractive despite his arrogance while “Ce jeu,” as per the title, is about mind games. “À cause des garçons,” the first single, is actually a cover of the 80s French duo of the same name and delves into some of the odd things girls do to attract attention. (Here’s the cutesy video via YouTube.)
Much like Cyndi Lauper’s She’s So Unusual (here, I’m thinking especially of “When You Were Mine,” “I’ll Kiss You,” and of course, the seminal “Girls Just Want to Have Fun”), Yelle’s debut is outwardly fun, sassy, and clever. It does help that Julie Budet, the charismatic lead singer, is in sync with the world’s love affair with all things French. Daft Punk, Air, Justice, not to mention yé-yé and the nouvelle vague, and of course, la mode (c’mon, posing for Vanessa Bruno?!). Nevertheless, it’s the collective effort that makes language-learning a tad less tedious, too.
Barbara Morgenstern
03. Teil für Teil
05. Kleiner Auschnitt
06. Tag und Nacht
11. Ohne Abstand
24. Come to Berlin
25. Der Augenblick
BM is an artist in whose creativity I trust so completely that I will always buy her albums in tangible, i.e. non-digital, form without even giving it a second thought. A friend at whose now defunct record shop I used to hang out recommended Fjorden to me five summers after its initial release. It was really like one of those “where have you been all of my life?” type of revelations, in which you a) feel dumb/sad/sorry that you’d not heard of the artist earlier that makes you b) subsequently want to gobble up all of their releases. (Thank you, emusic, for ensuring the availability of the Fan No. 1 remix EP for this fan no. 3,562,015 who’s been unable to find anything pre-Vermona ET 6-1 offline.)
“Teil für Teil” is easily my favorite track out of the nearly 100 I currently have (collabs and remixes included). It’s primarily due to the last minute (or so), when Harold Davidson’s guitar kicks in, and at about -0:20, plays contrapuntally to BM’s beats, making for a jammin’ outro. If Fjorden had ended here, I would’ve been more than satisfied, as the actual ending track, the instrumental “Der Wunsch Teil Drei,” sounds more like it should be a hidden track.
I must point out that I don’t (yet) understand German–oh, alright, ein bisschen–although reciting “Kleiner Ausschnitt,” from Nichts Muss, sometimes makes me feel like I do. The refrain is catchy (she could be singing about broccoli for all I care) and with BM’s soft voice, listeners might think twice about the “ugly” Teutonic language. Same thing goes for “Tag und Nacht,” Fjorden’s opener, as well as “Ohne Abstand,” more like a talk-through propped up against boops and bips, than a proper song. “Der Augenblick” has me on the humming and also has a strong presentation on Justus Kohncke’s Was ist Musik.
The attraction of “Come to Berlin,” the first single from the latest album appropriately titled BM, is evident. This place is in, BM coos, but more than an invitation, it’s both salute and critique. They’re tearing down what makes the city interesting / East and West are pretty much the same. In other words, gentrification on an extreme scale.
A direct example of this might be the destruction of the Palast der Republik to make way for a more appealing cultural complex. Any urban planning fiend can tell you that restructuring like this has been taking place since the fall of the wall only 20 years ago. Creative and commercial types alike flock to the former GDR in particular because of its unlimited potential, what BM calls the free space [that] creates ideas. It’s here where we come to understand why previously derelict pockets of Mitte, Prenzlauerberg, Kreuzberg and even Friedrichshain have staked their places on the agenda: theoretically unfettered space in which to indulge and perhaps capitalize on your desires.
As both microcosm and contradiction of the Heimat, Berlin thus finds itself in the particular position of having to constantly reinvent–I guess more appropriately, re-present–its identity not only to its European neighbors nor to the rest of the world, but also to itself. In the event that good luck is bestowed on me and I end up living there, there will be a side (or sides) of the city to which I’ll never be privy. To me, Berlin is a city, like any other, of which I’ll only ever have partial knowledge. I will undoubtedly return to it, but only to the sanitized artifact at which a song like BM’s jabs.
Metric
04. The Twist
I knew nothing about this group until my trip to Montreal a few years ago, when Alan (on whose couch I was surfing), suggested that I listen to the first two albums. Properly speaking, Grow Up and Blow away, on which “The Twist” can be found, is the prequel, but it wasn’t released until 2007. From Alan’s living room on, I primarily associated the Canadian/Californian band with the very unbroken social scene until Grow Up saw its offline debut, prompting more careful listens to/comparisons with the later Old Word Underground, Where are You Now? and Live it Out. Perhaps the lyrics’ significance has been lost on me, but “The Twist” is a track that I wish I’d hear on the radio, driving aimlessly on a Sunday afternoon, my head bobbing along to the r&b/trip-hop/synth pop melange that Metric has effortlessly mastered.
Alejandro Sanz featuring Shakira
07. Te lo agradezco, pero no
“Thanks, but no thanks,” best sums up my thoughts on most of Alejandro Sanz’s output, including his other collaboration with Shakira, “La Tortura.” Although I’m not that into pop ballads, what makes the second single from El Tren de los Momentos work for me is the percussion and brass. Amazon and other reviewers describe the track as having a “Brazilian” sound; I have no idea what that means, but in any case, I like the song enough to contemplate dancing to it. I first heard the song on MTV tr3s, no less, catching a bit of the video while flipping through channels.
Hot Chip
08. Ready for the Floor
Another hyped electropop troupe I heard about through the indie press grapevine. For the longest time, I was a double-digit hold at the library for Made in the Dark; I figured that they were popular for a reason. “Ready for the Floor” itself was Pitchfork’s third-best track of 2008, so hey! Granted, this is so far the only Hot Chip song to which I’ve given a chance and like the Yelle tracks, it mostly gets me pumped to work out. Whenever I get tired of this song, which is not in the foreseeable future, I’m sure that there exist countless other tunes in their catalogue (‘ue’ because Hot Chip are Brits) that will keep me ready for the (exercise) floor.
The Concretes
09. Seems Fine
Contrary to my friends’ and acquaintances’ belief, I really don’t keep my ear to the ground, often learning about “new” artists and bands long after their initial rise. My “discovery” of this Swedish collective was no different, via Taken By Trees, ex-lead Victoria Bergsman’s solo effort. The obsessional person that I am, I enjoy exploring musical genealogies and so “researched” Ms. Bergman’s discography, which led me straight to this project. Something about them, besides their sunny, heavily orchestrated melodies seemed so familiar to me and it was thanks to Target. Design “for all” + Scandinavian pop. Makes sense.
“Seems Fine” is but one sample in a long list of infectious compositions. Clocking in at barely more than two minutes, it’s one of the better examples of the Concretes’ vivacity and juxtaposition of ebullient harmonies against more somber subject matter. Seems fine, but it ain’t / no, no, no, no, Bergsman argues. You feel like a mess but must somehow sort it all out. The anthem to my underemployed quarter-life quasi-crisis.
Figurine
10. (Turning the Single Over)
For the life of me, I can’t figure out how this six-second filler made its way to my top 25 most played songs. I will say this, however: Transportation + Communication = Love is a kooky, sometimes cheesy (uh, “Eurodiscoteque?”) “indietronica” album that I’m actually not ashamed to listen to.
Broken Social Scene
12. Pacific Theme
BSS is, yet again, another group I was “late” on catching, though I’ve not looked back since putting You Forgot it in People on heavy rotation. Because I bought the album when I was traveling in summer of 2005, I’ll always associate “Pacific Theme” with the SNCF (French rail) and weaving in and out of mountains in eastern France. I’m unfortunately unable to pin down this particular song’s appeal, except with such vague descriptions such as “pleasant” and “relaxing.” Like Rachel’s, BSS often makes me forget about time.
Jamie Lidell
13. Another Day
La Feist has enlisted his help in The Reminder; I thought, why not? I needed something to help me get out of the rut I was feeling in my lonely little corner of Moncloa. “Another Day” is a great piano- and handclap-driven Motown/soul/gospel blend that apparently remains the perfect antidote to my daily winter drowsiness. Definitely a contender for a future partner’s future mix tape, this prize opening track to Jim is a lovely ode to the simple, yet still fulfilling pleasures of intimacy, a song that makes you glad to be alive and in love.
Wir sind Helden
14. Müssen nur wollen
Does smart German-language pop/rock exist? Really, if I understood the language, I probably wouldn’t be half as into this band–well, into the way Judith Holofernes sings this song–as I currently am. I’d like to say that I’ve gained more confidence in my musical choices, but I recoiled when a friend whose taste I admire scoffed at the quartet’s video. (The local equivalent, at least with regard to popularity, would be The Fray.) My excuse was once more educational: ich will Deutsch lernen! even if it’s with the help of a run-of-the-mill band. “Müssen nur wollen” will nevertheless always have a special place in my heart because Sanya included it in a mix.
Adele
15. Right as Rain
The pundits call it neo-soul, the new (sober) Amy Winehouse. I don’t know anything about either. Well, she has been critically lauded, so I must be on the right track. If everyone else hadn’t already heard of Adele, I’d be shouting her name to the rooftops, but as it stands, I often hear “Chasing Pavements” on the radio. (At this point, I’d like to express a tinge of envy towards the person/people who first heard Adele’s velvety voice.) I prefer “Right as Rain,” a song about imperfection and being off the grid, so to speak, and is similar to The Concretes’ “Seems Fine,” in that both songs mix effusive music with melancholy lyrics. To be honest, I have yet to fully process 19–I get stuck on one song–so a deeper appreciation of Adele’s work is still forthcoming.
Julieta Venegas
16. Primer día, featuring Dante
19. Mírame bien
20. Mírame bien [live]
My introduction to Juli came in the form of the ending credits of Maria Full of Grace, during which “Lo que venga después” crooned on: Here’s what’s left of who I used to be / here’s where everything I am begins. It’s with this Tijuana-bred singer-songwriter from which my burgeoning enthusiasm for “mainstream” Spanish-language pop sprang and more importantly, her kaleidoscope music is another point at which I found a witty combination of diverse musical influences like norteño and rock. Thanks to Juli, I’ve discovered Cafe Tacuba, Aterciopelados, Natalia LaFourcade, and Dante Spinetta, who contributes his hip-hop stylings to “Primer día.” It’s not even funny how much I enjoy this song, especially when Dante announces his arrival: if I knew how to go backwards in time, I’d do it / if only to look into your eyes and lose myself in them. Imagine me trying to match the cadence of the Argentine rapper and you’ll get an amusing picture, indeed.
“Mírame bien” has made it on the list in two incarnations due in part to Juli’s penchant for sing-along choruses. Míra-me, míra-me, míra-me igual, she sings towards the end in an alternate phrasing of the refrain. Haciendo algo como ver / el sol ca-er, ca-er, ca-e-e-er. The Unplugged session is proof enough of her easy popularity, with both audience and accompanying musicians in unison at about a minute left. It sends shivers up my spine each time I listen to it.
La Casa Azul
17. Galletas
LCA’s “Galletas” is a song of long-awaited recovery, of one day picking yourself up to enjoy your city and yourself again, like a phoenix rising. I don’t know if you know / that I don’t love you anymore / I don’t even miss you. It’s from El Sonido efervescente…, a reissue of the cult Barcelona band’s initial offering, paired with a slew of extra tracks. “Band” is actually a loose term; LCA is more the project one of one DJ/producer Guille Milkyway; the “band” part is just his public image. I was introduced to the LCA, er, concept, by fellow language and culture assistant after I inquired on a thread about Spanish indie pop/rock groups. He pointed me to Elefant Records, among others, and LCA, in particular.
As a whole, I’m really more partial towards Tan simple como el amor, not only because it’s the album I first listened to in its entirety, but also because I find the work to be more polished, more consistent. That’s not to say, however, that El sonido… lacks charm. It has plenty of it, but most notably in “Galletas.” Since then, Guille has certainly pumped up the volume, going so far as to placing among the top ten in the national Eurovision 2008 finals. To think that mulleted high-schoolers and my second-graders would’ve been dancing to La Revolución sexual instead of the Chiki-Chiki…what a summer that would’ve been.
Jens Lekman
18. Kanske Är Jag Kär i Dig
Jens Lekman–oh, where do I begin? I didn’t know it at the time, but a photo taken by Emma Svensson was on the cover of some magazine through which I was mindlessly leafing at Zoe. It would take a live show for me to bask in this Swede’s genius and realize myself a fool for not paying attention before. Jens circulated CD-Rs! MP3s! If I’d known, I would’ve been able to sing along with the great mass of Danes, Norwegians, and Swedes, et al, who seemingly hopped on Ryanair flights and Eurolines coaches to catch this show.
The allure of Jens’ “retro pop” craft is his steady championing of the matters of the heart. Dude just knows what’s up and isn’t afraid to get sentimental, though like Venegas, Jens is an expert at mixing superficially incongruent styles. At times, “Maybe I’m in Love with You” runs the risk of sounding like it was written by one of those soft-spoken, “emotionally mature” boys who profess to be in love with “everything life has to offer.” Thank goodness that the track mostly goes straight to the point: I think I’m gonna drop my cool now / The best way to touch your heart is to make an ass of myself. It’s honest, yes, but my favorite part of the only album song I’ve yet to hear live has got to be the sampling of a cappella doowop and the climactic, nearly two-minute outro, with effervescent brass flourishes. It’s the song I most wanted (imagined) my fellow Line 7 commuters jamming to, in discreet subway party fashion.
St. Vincent
21. Human Racing
Marry Me is a stand-out debut from this guitar prodigy. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’ve never seen anyone rock the guitar so hard and look dazzling in Mayle all at the same time. I guess I’m all for superlatives, so it’d be safe to say that Annie Clark’s first record is solidly among the few that I can listen (and have listened) to repeatedly. This album is that good and prompted me (because I had the luxury) to get to Paris for the night to see her live at FMR. Each song is so lushly arranged, every note and lyric warranted, it’s idiosyncratic perfection. And even more than the charming title track, “Human Racing” is the album’s stand-out song, displaying Clark’s jazz-y roots, skillful fingerpicking, and breezy mezzosoprano. Looking forward to the new album out this spring.
Camera Obscura
23. Let’s Get Out of this Country
From the third album of the same name, “Let’s Get Out of this Country” is an accurate description of my current frame of mind. I always think that other places, especially those in which I effect temporary stays (prolonged vacations), offer much more verdant pastures. I am bored of me and I have been unhappy; there’s nothing ever “new” for me in this town. I’m sure that I’d feel much the same if I established some sort of life elsewhere, whether in Glasgow (where Camera Obscura are from) or New York. I think again of the Concretes and Adele; anxiety expressed through upbeat, adroit arrangements. Camera Obscura is a group whose cheerful sound I’m growing more and more fond of, perhaps because I see it as a mask for (sometimes) more pessimistic undertones. Still, it’s nice to find a soundtrack that parallels and helps you deal with your own struggles.
Well, that took much longer to write than I had anticipated. While I’m capable of rant and raving like any average Joe, I’m neither a professional critic nor am I versed in music theory. (There is probably a precise–definitely more apt–term for “outro.”) All I know is what sounds good to my ears, and for my purposes, that’s probably good enough. I’m eager to find out what songs end up on this playlist in the months to come.
