vendredi, décembre 28, 2007

Oscar Peterson


Oscar Peterson no more.

Canada's legendary jazz pianist, a technical virtuoso who performed with the likes of Ella Fitzgerald, Stan Getz and Dizzy Gillespie and inspired generations of jazz musicians, dies aged 82.

John Fordham
Tuesday December 25, 2007
Guardian Unlimited


Oscar Peterson
Oscar Peterson: 'could transform any melody into streams of spontaneous alternatives'. Photograph: AP
After the phenomenal jazz-piano virtuoso Art Tatum died in 1956, Canadian pianist Oscar Peterson - who had already been waiting in the wings for a decade - eased his formidable frame on to the throne. Like Tatum, Peterson had a Liszt-like technique (classical music's star pianists came to marvel at both of them), and could transform any melody into streams of spontaneous alternatives, sustain any tempo, use his left hand as freely as his right, and keep a faultless built-in rhythm section at work in his head. These skills made Peterson, who has died of kidney failure at the age of 82, one of the best-loved stars in the jazz mainstream. The sympathetic but uncharitable among jazz purists might have held that Peterson was the unfortunate victim of his spectacular technique. All his performances would feature the same mix of flooding arpeggios, cascading introductions and codas, ragtime and barrelhouse pastiches, and solos at impossible tempos - and even after a stroke in 1993, the indomitable keyboard giant fought on to rebuild much of his sweeping technical authority. The standard Peterson trio offering would be the uptempo tune (either a standard or an original that sounded like a standard), starting either solo or with minimal accompaniment. It would grow in volume from both piano and drums in the second chorus, and by the third become an unbroken cascade of runs the length of the keyboard, resolving in thumping chords, thumbs-down-the-keys ripples and churning repeated phrases.

With cavalier glee, Peterson would apply this treatment to tunes ideally suited to it - like Anything Goes, or Sweet Georgia Brown - and to those that weren't, since he would often subject ballads to same burnups, bizarrely relapsing them into caresses at the end. Yet there was a true artist in Peterson too. Deliciously liquid arpeggios and arching, yearning phrases would sometimes emerge once he was sure he had given his audiences what they initially expected, and such contrastingly patient and spacious music might then allow the eloquence of his frequently superb accompanists to flower, notably the work of the double-bass giant Ray Brown.

Peterson had received classical piano lessons from the age of six in his native Montreal; the impetus came from his father, a railway porter and self-taught pianist. At 14, Oscar won a local radio talent contest, and worked in his late teens on a weekly Montreal radio show - and he was also a regular member of Canada's Johnny Holmes Orchestra, playing in an elegant swing keyboard style drawn from Teddy Wilson, Tatum and Nat "King" Cole. Though he had studied trumpet too, childhood illness led him to abandon it for the piano, and he practised constantly, an irrepressible enthusiasm mingling with natural gifts to build a fully two-handed technique (some 40s jazz pianists made relatively perfunctory use of the left hand) that rivalled that of classical recitalists. Though Cole was perhaps the artist Peterson felt most in sympathy with stylistically, the speed, orchestral richness and lyrical sweep of his music made the virtuoso Tatum the only fitting comparison once the Canadian's mature style formed.

Peterson resisted offers to come to America at first, but made his US debut at Carnegie Hall with Norman Granz's Jazz at the Philharmonic in September 1949. Granz saw in Peterson just his kind of charismatic, communicative performer who reaches out from the subculture of jazz to a much wider audience, and he managed the pianist's career through the 1950s, recorded him, and regularly toured him with Jazz At The Philharmonic. Initially the pianist adopted the Cole trio's methods, frequently playing simply with guitar and double bass and allowing his own unerring rhythmic sense and driving swing to take the place of drums. Through the 1950s, Peterson's bassist was usually Brown, with Herb Ellis on guitar - but from 1958, Ellis was replaced by the subtle drummer Ed Thigpen, one of the few percussionists who could complement the storming Peterson without appearing to compete with him for the maximum number of sounds squeezable into a bar. The group recorded extensively, and Peterson's reworkings of classic standards were so exuberant and upbeat that his recordings found their way into the collections of jazz fans and fascinated non-buffs alike.

In 1960, Peterson founded the Advanced School of Contemporary Music in Toronto - assisted by Brown, Thigpen and composer/clarinettist Phil Nimmons - and he remained there for the next three years, devoting much of his time to running the institution. But he continued to perform and record, and developed another string to his considerable bow by singing on a Cole dedication, With Respect to Nat, in 1965.

In the 1970s, though jazz was in retreat against the swelling popular and commercial pressure of rock'n'roll, Peterson continued to prove that his talents were robust enough to be less affected by the changing climate than most. He took to performing unaccompanied, and delivered astonishingly self-sufficient performances in which he frequently seemed to resemble two or three pianists playing simultaneously. By this time one of the most secure of mainstream international jazz stars, Peterson was now invited to perform in all kinds of contexts, including work with symphony orchestras, and guest appearances on many all-star jazz get-togethers with artists including Ella Fitzgerald, Stan Getz, trumpeters Dizzy Gillespie and Clark Terry, and guitarist Joe Pass. In later years Peterson frequently worked in duet with bassist Niels-Henning 0rsted Pedersen, a remarkable virtuoso of complementary gifts to the pianist's. Pared-down accompaniment always suited Peterson best, since his devastating technique frequently meant that the more musicians there were in a Peterson group, the more they would all try to keep up, like a party full of non-stop talkers.

Peterson had a prolific output as a recording artist, in some years releasing as many as half a dozen albums. Affinity (1963) was one of his biggest sellers, but his catalogue includes interpretations of the songbooks of Cole Porter and Duke Ellington, a highly successful single on Jimmy Forrest's compulsive Night Train (perfectly suited to Peterson's churningly machine-like style) and 1964's Canadiana Suite, an extended original nominated as one of the best jazz compositions of 1965 by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. Peterson furnished the soundtrack to the movie Play It Again Sam, hosted a TV chat show a 1974 tour of Russia, and influenced musicians as different as Steve Winwood, Dudley Moore and Joe Zawinul. A dedicated spreader of the word, Peterson also published educational works for student jazz pianists.

Though Peterson has sometimes been criticised as a musician in thrall to his own runaway technique, he remained a great virtuoso of piano jazz, and an equally effective populariser of the music among those who might otherwise not have encountered it. He was the kind of jazz musician who invited a sometimes-daunted general public in, and he always performed as if making the music was the most fun it was possible for a human being to have. When he performed to a packed Royal Albert Hall two years ago, Peterson delivered a startlingly ambitious programme for a man who looked as if the journey from the dressing-room to the piano stool had been a considerable effort of the will. That show could have been a wistful tribute to what once was - but with musicality, courage, skill and energy, Peterson made it a performance that stood proud on its own two feet. It was the story of his life.

In that same year of 2005, he became the first living person other than the monarch to feature on a Canadian commemorative stamp, and he saw his name adopted for streets, concert halls and schools. He is survived by his fourth wife, Kelly, their daughter Celine, and six children from previous marriages.

Oscar Emmanuel Peterson, jazz pianist, born August 15 1925; died December 23 2007

Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2007

samedi, décembre 08, 2007

John Lennon


Yoko Honors John On The 27th Anniversary of his Death.


by Paul Cashmere @ Undercover - December 8 2007


Today, December 8th 2007, marks the 27th anniversary of the murder of John Lennon.

To mark the occasion, John's widow Yoko has released the following statement.


John Lennon & Yoko Ono
John Lennon & Yoko Ono


December 8, 2007

I miss you, John. 27 years later, I still wish I could turn back the clock to the Summer of 1980. I remember everything - sharing our morning coffee, walking in the park together on a beautiful day, and seeing your hand stretched to mine - holding it, reassuring me that I shouldn't worry about anything because our life was good.

I had no idea that life was about to teach me the toughest lesson of all. I learned the intense pain of losing a loved one suddenly, without warning, and without having the time for a final hug and the chance to say, "I love you," for the last time. The pain and shock of that sudden loss is with me every moment of every day. When I touched John's side of our bed on the night of December 8th, 1980, I realized that it was still warm. That moment has haunted me for the past 27 years - and will stay with me forever.

Even harder for me is watching what was taken away from our beautiful boy, Sean. He lives in silent anger over not having his Dad, whom he loved so much, around to share his life with. I know we are not alone. Our pain is one shared by many other families who are suffering as the victims of senseless violence. This pain has to stop.

Let's not waste the lives of those we have lost. Let's, together, make the world a place of love and joy and not a place of fear and anger. This day of John's passing has become more and more important for so many people around the world as the day to remember his message of Peace and Love and to do what each of us can to work on healing this planet we cherish. Let's: Think Peace, Act Peace, and Spread Peace. John worked for it all his life. He said, "there's no problem, only solutions." Remember, we are all together. We can do it, we must. I love you!

Yoko Ono Lennon

jeudi, décembre 06, 2007

Radiohead...


Radiohead to shut down free download of 'In Rainbows'.

It's 'The End of the Beginning' next week

Radiohead
Radiohead

Radiohead have announced that the free download of their recent album 'In Rainbows' will come to an end next week.

In a posting today (December 5) on the band's Dead Air Space blog titled "The End of the Beginning", the band said that the "download area that is 'In Rainbows' will be shutting its doors on 10 December 2007."

As previously reported on NME.COM
, the band shocked the music industry in October by releasing the album as a download, with fans choosing how much to pay for the album.

In today's posting, the band also announced that they have no intention of creating additional discboxes of the album once the stock at the band's w.a.s.t.e. online store has run out.

They added: "For those of you who wish to buy 'In Rainbows' in the usual way, it will be available on CD/Vinyl and download from traditional outlets from the 31st December 2007. Thanks for everything."

--By our Los Angeles staff.

mercredi, décembre 05, 2007

Cansei de Ser Sexy


CSS live.

**** Brixton Academy, London

Caroline Sullivan
Wednesday December 5, 2007
The Guardian


Cansei de Ser Sexy (as they initially were until they gave in to the English-speaking world's lack of enthusiasm for other tongues) have already grasped a basic fact about how to win over UK audiences. Play party music to a British crowd when their reserve is down - at a summer festival, perhaps, or in the month before Christmas - and you have a career. CSS have exploited this knowledge: in June and July, no outdoor stage went unvisited by their five-female, one-male Brazilian rave-up, and here they are again, headlining 4,000-seaters in time for office-party season.

Their commitment to fun extends to decorating the stage with tinsel and small, bespangled Christmas trees, and the band arrive on stage dressed as gift-wrapped presents. As a tape of Jingle Bells plays and "snow" drifts down from the ceiling, they gambol around with a lack of self-consciousness that would be alien to British bands. "It's the best time of year!" bawls Lovefoxxx, the cat-suited firecracker who acts as mistress of ceremonies and singer.

She is the one band member who might be recognised by those outside CSS's indie-rave world, by virtue of being the loudest component of a loud band. A year of touring their self-titled debut album has not quenched her enthusiasm for being the centre of attention - far from it. More dedicated amateur than conventional singer, she still derives joy from yapping the words to Music Is My Hot Hot Sex and CSS Suxxx. And it is Lovefoxxx's dervish-dancing that keeps the mind from wandering when songs occasionally blur into garage-rock mush, which is the inevitable outcome of six people pounding out tracks that are more pulsing rhythms than "tunes" as such.

There are occasional big-chorus moments, though - Let's Make Love and Listen to Death from Above and the new mock-reggae Jamaica Song stand out here - and when they happen, band and audience frenziedly bond. Brazil may be better at producing footballers and Britain superior at making rock music, but at moments like this, it is one happy bilingual family. "Let's reggae all day!" bleats Lovefoxxx, which makes about as much sense as any of her lyrics - again, though, it is all in the delivery. It is easy to see why these former art students have been embraced by the fashionistas, but don't let that put you off.

· At the Academy, Glasgow, tonight. Box office: 0141-418 3000. Then touring.

Useful links

UK venues

Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2007

lundi, novembre 26, 2007

The Hives interview


'We did a bloody good job, don't you think?'

The Hives are a tribute to the power of self-promotion, 'idiot concepts' and shoes with white soles. Leonie Cooper meets a band that has given up giving up

The Guardian

Howlin' Pelle Almqvist, the extravagantly immodest singer of the Hives, is in agreement with something posted on the band's website by one of his fans. Their fourth album, the fan had suggested, should be called The World's First Perfect Album, since that is what it would be. "It's a rumour we're glad to spread," he says.

"They hadn't even heard it yet," interrupts the band's drummer, Chris Dangerous. "They were just pretty sure it was going to be perfect."

"It's not, though," counters Almqvist. "If it was, we'd have to quit now. If you went and did the perfect record, that wouldn't be all that much fun, would it? Obviously, we have had to hold ourselves back in order to make something unperfect ..."

The Hives are never shy of boasting. When they unveiled their new songs at the 100 Club in London in the summer, Almqvist proclaimed, "You have missed the Hives!" The crowd shouted back, prompting Almqvist to admonish them: he had not been asking a question, he said, he had been making a statement. That was also the show at which the Hives unveiled their newest look, a style they are calling "Ivy League bully". They have always worn stage uniforms, in black and white, and this time it's what Almqvist decribes as "an American misunderstanding of English school uniform" - a school blazer affair with piping modelled on outfits worn by "this band who used to play in smoking jackets, called the Devil Dogs", and a Hives crest. "The crests are our attempt at a classic punk logo, like the Dead Kennedys or Black Flag," he says. "It's supposed to be easy to draw on your leather jacket." Or as a tattoo? "Hell, it'd make a fantastic tattoo!" he says. The effect is finished with white US Navy dress shoes the band bought off the internet. "The good thing about them is that they have white soles, which is really hard to get with white shoes," Almqvist says, with a straight face. "Oh, and they're also rubber, so you can sneak up on people and kill them."

The Hives' whole career has been based on a canny understanding of the power of self-promotion and rock iconography. They have always claimed their songs are all written by a mysterious svengali named Randy Fitzsimmons. Almqvist's brother, Nicholaus Arson (real name Niklas Almqvist), is believed by everyone outside the band to be the true songwriter, but they persist with the story. (Arson says of Fitzsimmons' current role: "He's more of a mentor now - he used to be more involved, but he's been telling us to do so many things that now he's more like an inner voice, and we know what he would think about things.") They have all adopted pseudonyms: in addition to Howlin' Pelle, Dangerous and Arson, the band is completed by guitarist Vigilante Carlstroem and bassist Dr Matt Destruction. And, in a masterstroke, they won over the UK in 2001 by calling their first British release, a best-of compiled from two Swedish albums, Your New Favourite Band.

Your New Favourite Band emerged at a time when garage punk was undergoing one of its periodic bursts of popularity, and the combination of some killer riffs (Hate to Say I Told You So) and outrageous stagecraft (the band freezing their poses, mid-riff, for 30 seconds or more) won them an audience that took them from clubs to big halls and a major-label deal while many of their garage peers failed to get down the drive.

But their ascent, inevitably, brought its own problems. Although their major label debut, Tyrannosaurus Hives, reached No 7 in the UK, it received an underwhelming reception, critics carping that it merely repeated the moves they'd heard on Your New Favourite Band, only not as well. Other musicians, meanwhile, tired of the Hives' unrelenting self-aggrandisement and willingness to accept contrivance. Jon Bon Jovi tore them apart, accusing them of being all style and no substance, and Almqvist, in particular, of simply aping the stage moves of James Brown and Mick Jagger. "I guess it's scary when a new alpha male turns up on the scene and the old alpha male has to scoot off to the side," reasons Almqvist.

The band have since made some efforts to move their sound on from sturdy garage rock, working with producers such as hip-hop's Pharrell Williams and Jacknife Lee, the current choice of rock bands seeking a stadium-ready sound. They met Williams backstage at a festival in Japan in 2004, says Dangerous. "We high-fived and he said, 'I love you guys, I wanna work with you someday - something big is gonna happen.'" They only worked together for two weeks last winter, but wrote eight songs. "He's a very busy man, so the way he makes music is very fast," says Almqvist. "It was really good for us to make music that way, because we can be very anal - that's why we only put out a record every three or four years."

Oddly, though, the tracks produced by Williams bear fewer traces of hip-hop than does the one they produced themselves, Giddy Up, on which, Arson claims, "you can hear the proper hip-hop beats". ("We did a bloody good job, don't you think?" says Almqvist.)

They're not concerned about the idea that the music they make is, well, silly; they say silliness is at the heart of great rock'n'roll. "We always loved songs that were borderline novelty songs, like Wooly Bully or Ça Plane Pour Moi - they're such idiot concepts that they're glorious," Almqvist says. "It's nonsense, but it's amazing nonsense! We're not trying to write Born to Run, here, we're trying to write Wooly Bully!"

What they have learned from the world of hip-hop is, astonishingly, to be even more aggressive in their self-promotion. They approve of 50 Cent's threat to stop making music if Kanye West outsold him: "It's good, you've got to put pressure on yourself", argues Arson. "Yeah, if we don't sell more records than Elvis, then we'll quit," says Almqvist. "But he's been selling records for such a long time, so we have a few years to catch up."

The Hives have now been together for 16 years, by their reckoning, and they see no reason to stop yet. "We kind of gave up the idea of giving up," Almqvist says. "Either you do the one really great debut album and then you quit, then you're in the history books forever - see the Sex Pistols - or you do three records. Other than that, you have to keep on going forever and be AC/DC or the Rolling Stones."

"It's gonna be harder to do this shit when we get older," adds Dangerous, "but we're gonna try as hard as we possibly can to play punk rock when we're 70." And if they are aiming for an AC/DC-esque career, they refuse to countenance AC/DC's stage effects. "Pyrotechnics are for bands who don't do anything on stage and need other stuff to do stuff for them," says Almqvist. "I am a human pyrotechnic."

But, for all their bravado about their incredible talents and amazing performances, there is a chink in the Hives' tailored armour. Back home in the small town of Fagersta, they own a large house that acts as band HQ - "sort of like the Monkees' house," according to Almqvist - and in its grounds is an orchard. "It's got some really, really tasty apple trees," says Almqvist. "It's a shame that when we're on tour, we don't get to eat those apples."

·The Black and White Album was released on October 15 on Polydor.

Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2007

lundi, novembre 19, 2007

Baby Animals news


Baby Animals Announce Album and Tour.

by Tim Cashmere @ Undercover - November 19 2007


Baby Animals

Baby Animals


We're giving you an early warning (yes, that's the best I could come up with) on a new album from the newly reformed Baby Animals, and a national tour to go with it.

The early 90s Aussie rockers are back with their first album since their split in 1992 – 'Il Grande Silenzio' – which is due to hit stores on January 19.

The album will be released through Liberation Blue and will be made up of acoustic recordings of their hits including 'Rush You' and 'Early Warning'.

Singer Suzi DeMarchi said of the record, "It means The Great Silence, for those who don't speak spaghetti western. It seemed appropriate. It's a soft, quiet, dreamy kind of record. And it's been a long time."

The tour will be a mixture of acoustic and classic rockin' Animals.

Check them out at:

JANUARY

18 – Metro City, Perth
20 – Prince of Wales, Melbourne
23 – South Sydney Juniors, Sydney
24 – Rooty Hill RSL, Rooty Hill
26 – A Day On The Green – Bimbadgen (with Himmy Barnes, Diesel, Mahalia Barnes, Tim Rogers and Archie Roach)
27 – Doyalson RSL, Doyalson

mercredi, novembre 14, 2007

Goldfrapp news


Goldfrapp get back to nature.

Francesca Martin

Wednesday November 14, 2007

The Guardian


Out are the tassled disco dancers and glitter balls, in are a 17th-century steel-string harp and a toy organ. For their fourth album, Seventh Tree - a follow-up to the 2005 album Supernature, and due to be released next February - the band Goldfrapp have gone folk. Singer Alison Goldfrapp and her writing partner Will Gregory used the harp and the organ to record the album in a 1960s bungalow in Bath, creating what they call a "slightly psychedelic, almost delirious sound. It's a combination of naive English folkiness with a bit of horror and Californian sunshine thrown in."

Goldfrapp, known for her unusual costumes, is working on a number of different looks for her stage performances, including an owl costume that recalls the album's "back to nature" feel. "For the tour," she says, "I'm imagining scantily clad Morris dancers in ribbons and flowers with pole dancing round maypoles."

Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2007

mercredi, novembre 07, 2007

Nick Cave



Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds Dig Lazarus.


by Andrew Tijs - November 7 2007


Nick Cave at the Forum Theatre in Melbourne
Nick Cave at the Forum Theatre in Melbourne

photo by Ros O'Gorman


Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds have announced their fourteenth studio album 'Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!'

After his recent induction into the ARIA Hall of Fame (and his own induction of the Bad Seeds), Nick Cave and band provide the follow-up to the ambitious double album 'Abattoir Blues/ The Lyre Of Orpheus'.

'Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!' was co-produced by the band and 'Abattoir/ Orpheus'-producer Nick Launay in Richmond, England. Post-YBA British artists Tim Noble and Sue Webster will provide the artwork for the upcoming album. The album will be released by Anti- in the UK and the US next March.

Cave and Dirty Three violinist Warren Ellis have just released the soundtrack they made for the new Andrew Dominic Western opus 'The Assassination Of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford'.

vendredi, octobre 26, 2007

Arcade Fire


The bitter taste of success.


They've crashed into the mainstream and Hollywood adores them, but Arcade Fire aren't happy. Alexis Petridis meets a band trying to make sense of their ascent to stardom

Friday October 26, 2007

The Guardian


Randall's Island sits in the middle of New York's East River, a vast, characterless, landfill-augmented field, surrounded by straits given the kind of alluring names that New York's outer boroughs seem to specialise in: to the east there's Hell Gate and to the north, Bronx Kill. If it's not quite as ghastly as the waters around it suggest, Randall's Island certainly doesn't exude much in the way of charm, even in the sunshine of an unseasonably hot autumn afternoon. It is, concedes Richard Reed Parry - Arcade Fire's affable red-headed multi-instrumentalist sometimes known to play a crash helmet with a drumstick onstage - a far cry from the venues at which the band are renowned for performing: the churches that seem to echo the quasi-religious fervour in their music, the "aesthetically inspiring" spaces in which Parry has claimed they play their best. "We wanted the whole place hung with carnival lights," he sighs sadly, "but the city wouldn't let us do it." Instead, for the event they are headlining, Arcade Fire have attempted to stamp some quirky personality on the field by erecting a small stage to its rear on which a mariachi band play unamplified. Alas, the mariachi leader ends up singing his heart out and talking about how grateful they are to be here to a scattering of nonplussed punters, pausing only momentarily on their way between the hot dog stands and the Portaloos.

But if you wanted an indication of the magnitude of Arcade Fire's rise since the March release of their second album, Neon Bible, then Randall's Island and the nonplussed punters would do nicely. A couple of years ago, Arcade Fire were a critically acclaimed seven-piece, alt-rock act, albeit one noted for the intensity of their live shows, their frenzied, evangelical cult following, their penchant for dressing like 19th-century American farmers and for the fact that their two central members were a married couple, Win Butler and Regine Chassagne: the former the son of a wealthy Texan oilman who had moved to Montreal to form a band, the latter the daughter of Haitian refugees who had landed in Quebec in flight from "Baby Doc" Duvalier's dictatorship. They played the kind of venues that critically acclaimed alt-rock acts perform in: when asked by U2 to support them on a handful of Canadian stadium dates, the band viewed the shows, Parry says, with the bemused detachment of people who weren't really supposed to be there, dumbfounded by what he calls the "huge, ginormo machine of a production". "It was," he recalls, "like, whoah."

And yet, here they are, barely two years later, performing to 22,000 people, a crowd, Parry notes, that is "as big as one of those U2 shows". They are at the end of a vast American tour during which they were feted not by the kind of rock aristocrats who have queued up to garland the band with praise since the release of their debut album, Funeral, (David Bowie and David Byrne have both performed with them, while earlier this year a journalist at a New York show reported, aghast, that he had seen Lou Reed actually smile at the conclusion of their performance), but by a rather different kind of celebrity: Scarlett Johansson, Drew Barrymore and James Spader all turned up to see them in Hollywood, as did Rod Stewart, an artist whose love for apocalyptically inclined, anthemic baroque art-rock had previously gone strangely unnoticed.

The audience thronging Randall's Island, meanwhile, is conspicuously light on the kind of whey-faced indie-kid blogger whose early support earned Arcade Fire that most noughties of labels, the Internet Phenomenon. Instead, there are baseball caps and shorts and Gap casual wear in profusion: this is very much a mainstream American rock crowd.

It is all evidence of success of a kind that should, theoretically, cause headaches and hand-wringing in Arcade Fire's ranks. This is, after all, a band who zealously guard their independence and rigorously shun the celebrity that seems an inescapable by-product of your second album reaching the Top 10 around the world. "The song is independent of my face and what I look like," says Chassagne. "I know in pop music people are really used to, like, relating it to the person who made it and what they eat and what they do every day, but to me it's just independent." Nor could you accuse them of rapaciously pursuing global domination: earlier this year, Butler was heard to bemoan,"bands who think in terms of, 'I'm going to be the biggest band in the world, fuck all those bands who've got no ambition,'" as "a total crock of shit". Then there's the fact that Arcade Fire thrive, according to Parry, on "playing small rooms where you can really get in people's faces and connect with them and wrestle with them".

In an air-conditioned dressing room backstage, however, Butler is inclined to disagree. Slumping his 6ft 5in frame into an armchair - somehow he looks even bigger in mufti than in his onstage costume - he protests that there has been little hand-wringing about Arcade Fire's burgeoning mainstream success: for one thing, he says, success means it's easier to refuse to do things you don't want to do. Nor is he particularly sorry to see the back of playing small venues: indeed, he prefers playing Randall's Island or the Hollywood Bowl to the euphoric, wildly acclaimed performances they gave at London's St John's Church and Porchester Hall in January. "This tour is the opposite of the sell-it-out hype thing. It's more about letting people who want to see us, see us. That feels really good. A lot of these shows have been more intimate than the warm-up shows we did in the churches because they were so overwhelming and press-centered."

Perhaps Butler's contrariness should come as little surprise. He is famously no great fan of the media, claiming never to read anything written about the band which means that this year he'll have missed both the appearance of a blog called Arcade Fire Stole My Basketball, on which an outraged fellow user of the Cal Berkeley gym baldly accused him of the theft alluded to in the title, and Arcade Fire being called the Greatest Band in the World by at least three different British periodicals.

You get the impression that being interviewed seldom constitutes the highlight of his day. Today, he's scrupulously polite and thoughtful in his answers, but you would never confuse him with a boundless font of easygoing bonhomie. "I don't like the process of having to promote an album and talk about it," he says, flatly, "and I learnt pretty early on that the artist always seems like the asshole in the situation, no matter what you do. Even if, like, someone was poking you in the face and you went 'fucking stop that!', when the article comes out, it'll be like that happened in slow motion." He mimes giving someone the finger in slow motion, then sighs. "You can't win "

Both he and Parry think Arcade Fire's aversion to celebrity may have something to do with their roots in Montreal. For one thing, there are arts grants available to bands that instil a certain anti-commercial sensibility in the city's musicians: "They encourage people to think that being an artist is a viable way of life, that doing something that won't necessarily make money is a worthwhile thing to do."

For another, there is the shadow of the French Quebec pop scene, packed with artists unknown outside of its confines, but who apparently "sell as many records as Arcade Fire do worldwide, just in Quebec". "In Montreal, we're not celebrities at all, those people are celebrities," says Butler. Parry nods. "Occasionally, we've noticed that people are kind of surprised, like, wow, you've done really well, you're nearly as big as Jean LeClerc."

But whatever the reason, Butler has gained the reputation of a prickly and rather difficult customer. His understandable desire to avoid what he calls "the hoops" of the music industry - "all the things that have nothing to do with playing your instrument or playing together that take up a lot more energy than actually playing music and connecting with people"- has occasionally shown a tendency to look more like unappealing petulance.

It was Butler who smashed a camera with his mandolin and stormed off stage during Arcade Fire's appearance on Friday Night With Jonathan Ross, apparently piqued because the band had to sit in the green room with the other guests while he wanted to visit a friend instead.

In fact, the ill-humoured appearance on Jonathan Ross was indicative of what was, by all accounts, a difficult summer for Arcade Fire. Despite the critical plaudits and commercial success, says Butler, "there have definitely been points in this year when we've been pretty down". Oddly, given their obsession with turning a live show into a communal experience in which the music invites a transcendent mass singalong, Parry came to the conclusion during a gruelling round of festival appearances that Arcade Fire were simply "not a festival band".

Certainly, their performance at Glastonbury, anticipated by many as the event's highlight, fell noticeably short of expectation: while no disaster, they didn't quite set the sodden environs of Worthy Farm alight in the way that their forebears Radiohead did a decade before.

For their part, Arcade Fire seem to have been faintly horrified by the Glastonbury experience. "There's something charming about how disorganised and hippy it is even though it's on that level," says Butler, his Texas drawl modulating into a tone that suggests he didn't think there was anything charming about it whatsoever, "but it was a fucking nightmare. It was like a mudpit. You have to drive your truck through the middle of the crowd of -" he pauses, as if grasping for the words to describe the ghastliness "- of shit," he finally decides.

"People are like, throwing up and hitting the doors and things like that. I get the appeal of wanting to get high for the first time and wanting to run round the fields, you know, but that's not necessarily the most engaging experience to me." Parry nods: "We were just, like, what in God's name is this?" "Why would I be here if I wasn't playing?"

They have toured almost consistently since January, a schedule that proved so punishing Butler and Parry alight on the singer contracting an acute sinus infection in March as an unlikely highlight: "Even though I was recovering from surgery, it was great, we had a month with nothing to do." They talk with a contagious wistfulness about the pleasure of being in the studio - at one point, Butler offers a description of recording a track off their debut album called Haiti that's so detailed it borders on fetishism - of returning to the converted church where they recorded Neon Bible, of finding a way to break out of the album-tour-album-tour treadmill. "We're going to find a way," says Butler. "That's the next great challenge. It's not the best system for creativity, because that's not the way it works: be creative for two years, don't be creative for two years."

That night, as they take the Randall's Island stage, he announces with barely concealed relish that this is the last time Arcade Fire will play New York "for a couple of years". The audience hoot their derision. "Yeah," says Butler, heavily. "Boo. Hiss."

Road-weary or not, they are magnificent on the stage. By the encore, Butler's brother Will is hanging perilously from the lighting rig and Arcade Fire have genuinely succeeded in transforming Randall's Island into something magical: a sea of swaying hands, a vast choir of voices singing along to Wake Up's wordless chorus. At the show's conclusion, the band rush into the crowd where they perform a frantic cover of the Violent Femmes' Kiss Off, to the delight of fans within earshot and the visible horror of security. It is, as Parry would say, like, whoah.

Backstage, I see Butler and Chassagne talking with fans, still holding an acoustic guitar and an accordion respectively, distractedly picking out a tune as they chat. Then they slip away into the dressing room, still playing their instruments.

· Arcade Fire play SECC, Glasgow, tonight. Then tour.

Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2007

lundi, octobre 22, 2007

Soulwax


Nine tracks from Soulwax.

Alongside his brother Stephen, David Dewaele revolutionised dance music as Soulwax. Their work splicing together songs from unlikely sources (like Salt-n-Pepa with Iggy Pop) helped to give rise to the phenomenon of the mash-up, while their remixes continue to be the industry standard. Here David tells us about some songs that have influenced him

Monday October 22, 2007

Guardian Unlimited



David Dewaele
David Dewaele eats with Soulwax. Photograph: Alex Salinas


Rollin' and Scratchin', Daft Punk

This track came out in 1996, when I was 21, and at the time I was mainly into the Beatles and American west-coast rock. This track changed all that. It was the first techno song I ever liked because it was such a consciously stupid track, but so funky and soulful with its stupidness. I'm aware that Daft Punk didn't invent that style of dance music but the sound of this track is very extreme. I remember wondering "How did they make it so melodic?" And also, "How are they going to get royalties for that?"
Buy the track on iTunes.
Firecracker, Yellow Magic Orchestra

Simple yet melodic music by people who are obsessed with analogue synths - the Japanese Kraftwerk, if you will. At the time this record was made, electronic music was still something for high-grade, skilled musicians, rather than the sort of populist stuff you get now, and it was a better quality, too. I find that when something first arrives, in this case the electronica of Devo, Kraftwerk and the Yellow Magic Orchestra, it's at its best. That's when you feel like boundaries are being pushed.

In that way, I feel Soulwax or Richard X or Erol Alkan have all stood the test of time in a way that many of the current mash-ups and bootlegs will not. We always wanted to combine technical proficiency with melody, but now the technical aspects seem to be more important. Plus, the style of music is a lot more familiar to people; you can walk into a supermarket and hear Jay-Z mixing it up with Linkin Park. (Not available on iTunes.)

I Believe in You, Talk Talk


I continue to love and admire Talk Talk. Their album 1988 Spirit of Eden, from which this single is taken, was considered a flop commercially and critically, but in time it's become apparent that it is the influential basis for a lot of bands today, bands who make atmospheric, beautiful music like Radiohead or Sigur Ros. This track gives me chills every time I hear it.
Buy this track on iTunes.

Soft Machine, Les Rhythmes Digitales


It's an incredible tune, if not the most popular. Stuart Price (Les Rhythmes Digitales) was on the same label as us, so we were friends before I'd even heard the album Darkdancer. It is what I'd describe as an offbeat IDN (intelligent dance music) version of 80s dance music. There are fucked-up drumbeats with vocals over the top, which is difficult to pull off, but here it sounds fantastic. We've told him on several occasions he should do more of that stuff.
Buy this track on iTunes.

The Adventures of Grandmaster Flash on the Wheels of Steel. Grandmaster Flash


When I was about 12, I saw a TV show about hip-hop in New York. I remember the producers visited LL Cool J's mum's house and things like that. Anyway, they get to Grandmaster Flash's house and he starts explaining how he DJs. He says that all he does is take the best bits of the records he loves and repeats them so people can dance. Which is a simple display of genius. The idea stuck with me and years later we adopted that approach ourselves for 2 Many DJs.
Buy this track on iTunes.

Afraid Himself to Be, Jason Falkner


Grammatically, incorrect; musically, very correct. Falkner is the sort of guy that pops up on the liner notes of all these great albums by bands like the Grays and Fabulon, but he releases a solo album and it more or less gets ignored. I'm OK...You're OK is an album of intelligent pop music with intricate melodies, in the vein of the Beatles or the Kinks. This guy is incredible and deserves popular acclaim.
Buy this track on iTunes.

Hard Times, The League Unlimited Orchestra


Human League released the album Dare in 1981 and a year afterwards they released an album of remixes of it called Modern Dancing. It featured extended minimal dance versions of their pop tracks and became the blueprint of everything we did on Night Versions. Modern Dancing was mainly the work of Martin Rushent - the band were touring at the time - and he used lots echo effects and repetitive basslines. We've made no secret of paying homage to his style.
Buy this track on iTunes.

Lord Grunge, The Frogs


The Frogs are two guys from Chicago, the Flemion brothers, who are renowned for their very funny, very dark albums. I guess they're not dissimilar to Queen in that respect, where you have brilliant music but funny Zappa-esque lyrics. The track Lord Grunge really stood out from the rest of their music and a bit of investigation showed it has been produced by Billy Corgan. Incredible pop music meets fucked-up lyrics about a band getting eaten up and raped by the music industry. If you find an MP3, well lucky you. It's great. (This track is not available on iTunes.)

Loose, The Stooges


When it comes to garage rock, no one equals this band. We've played with them at festivals - trust me when I say that they're phenomenal. The whole band are innovators. However good a band like, say, the Datsuns are, there's no way they can imitate them. When the Stooges are on stage you believe it and having seen them on the reunion tour it gave me hope for the future. Many reunions can disappoint you but this was inspiration.
This track is not available on iTunes.

As told to Paul MacInnes.

· Most Of The Remixes, a two-CD compilation featuring most of Soulwax's remixes, is out today. For tour dates, visit their MySpace page.

Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2007