Posts Tagged ‘popular music’
[MUSIC[ Kygo and Whitney Houston, “Higher Love”
I have recently found last year’s version of this Steve Winwood classic song, and I am caught by how suited this critical but hopeful song is for this year.
“Things look so bad everywhere
In this whole world, what is fair
We will walk the line
And try to see
Falling behind in what could be
[MUSIC] Avenue Beat, “F2020”
The song “F2020”, put up in July on Tiktok by Nashville-based trio Avenue Beat, is still perfect in August.
December 31st, I grabbed a beer
Threw it up, said, “2020 is my year, bitches”
(Three, two, one, Happy New Year)
And I honestly thought that that was true
Until I gave this motherfucker like a month or two
This is getting kind of ridiculous at this point”
Also:
Put your hands in the motherfuckin’ air
If you kinda hate it here
And you wish that things would
Just like chill for like two minutes
Forbes and Nylon and Rolling Stone all describe how a song that the group tossed off onto their TikTok account became a viral hit, first on that platform then in mainstream culture. Their success is deserved: This is the sadly funny and melodic summer anthem that we really need.
[MUSIC] Martha and the Muffins, “Echo Beach”
I first blogged about the Martha and the Muffins 1980 hit “Echo Beach” back in May 2005, noting how the song resonated with me. The narrator, dreaming of an escape to an idyll beyond in the mid of a boring conventional job, speaks to me.
On a silent summer evening
The sky’s alive with lights
A building in the distance
Surrealistic sight
On Echo Beach
Waves make the only sound
On Echo Beach
There’s not a soul around
I was also amused to learn in 2011 that the song was going to give its name to a new performance space down at Ontario Place.
I heard the song again, sitting on my lunch break at patio of the Church and Wellesley Second Cup coffee shop when the song came on the speakers. Again, it resonated deeply: Who would not prefer a summer rather different from this one?
As I noted back in 2005, the song is a classic. It lasts; it not merely endures the decades, it thrives.
[MUSIC] Eurythmics, “Would I Lie To You?”
The Eurythmics song “Would I Lie To You?” is a perennial joy, a sound of self-assertion told with Annie’s imitable voice with joy and (among other instrumentation) a great horn section. The song and its album, Be Yourself Tonight, might be a break from the Eurythmics’ more experimental synthpop and New Wave material on earlier albums, but they carried it off.
Would I lie to you?
Would I lie to you honey? (oh honey, would I lie to you?)
Now would I say something that wasn’t true?
I’m asking you sugar, would I lie to you?
[MUSIC] The JAMs, “All You Need Is Love”
I’ve rediscovered the KLF after a decade and a half.
Why did I wait so long?
“All You Need Is Love”, indeed.
[PHOTO] “Anthem” by Cohen, in chalk and in song
The other day, I was walking along College Street in west-end Brockton Village when I saw that someone had written, in chalk on the sidewalk, the lyrics of the Leonard Cohen song “Anthem” from his 1992 album The Future. I had seen similar chalk inscriptions on nearby sidewalks, but this was much the most extensive, occupying eight panels of concrete.
A 2008 live performance of the song by Cohen is as close a we’ll have to an official video.
Four years ago, Quartz shared an explanation by Cohen of this song, a rarity.
The future is no excuse for an abdication of your own personal responsibilities towards yourself and your job and your love. “Ring the bells that still can ring”: they’re few and far between but you can find them.
This situation does not admit of solution of perfection. This is not the place where you make things perfect, neither in your marriage, nor in your work, nor anything, nor your love of God, nor your love of family or country. The thing is imperfect.
And worse, there is a crack in everything that you can put together: Physical objects, mental objects, constructions of any kind. But that’s where the light gets in, and that’s where the resurrection is and that’s where the return, that’s where the repentance is. It is with the confrontation, with the brokenness of things.
The full lyrics, of course, are sheer poetry.
The birds they sang
At the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what
Has passed away
Or what is yet to beYeah the wars they will
Be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
Bought and sold
And bought again
The dove is never freeRing the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets inWe asked for signs
The signs were sent:
The birth betrayed
The marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
Of every government
Signs for all to seeI can’t run no more
With that lawless crowd
While the killers in high places
Say their prayers out loud
But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up
A thundercloud
And they’re going to hear from meRing the bells that still ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets inYou can add up the parts
You won’t have the sum
You can strike up the march
There is no drum
Every heart, every heart
To love will come
But like a refugeeRing the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in
[URBAN NOTE] On the current #covid19 crisis (#coronavirustoronto)
One of the many things that has been bothering me about the COVID-19 crisis is the way that the city of Toronto around me has been shutting down. Work and those strictures have gone, of course, but so have almost all of the other events of life. Stores are shut down; neighbourhoods are almost always barren of people; the sorts of events that I normally partake in have been sensibly cancelled. (Jane’s Walk and TCAF are among the events that have been closed down, and I may never get a chance to see the Diane Arbus show at the AGO or the Winnie the Pooh exhibit at the ROM. I live in hope for the second category, and look forward to next year for the first.)
The great machineries of life of Toronto, human and mechanical, are grinding down. When will they start up again? What will be the background against which this revival will happen? What loss and suffering will there be in the background of this? More importantly, from my particular perspective, what loss and suffering will there be among the people I know, here in Toronto and around the world? I have some fears for myself, but more fears for others both known and unknown. (I am not fond of living in a situation where fatalities from a pandemic really can amount to low single-digit percentages of the global, and local, population.)
I cannot help but feel a sort of anticipatory grief at seeing my dear cosmopolis of Toronto shutting down. It is a cause of grief in itself, and it is a symbol of worse yet to come. I can also extrapolate easily enough from the specific case of Toronto to all the other great machines out there in the world, places I’ve lived in and places I’ve only visited and places I have yet to visit and the many many places I will never see. The pictures I saw earlier this week from Venice, that great first prototype of the cosmopolis, felt so wrong. One March, you have a living city; one March, you have a city clamped down on account of mass death. There are things Toronto can pick up from Venice, but I would prefer this not be one. But this isn’t really under anyone’s control, is it?
I am–I believe–keeping things in perspective. There will still be a world after this crisis is done, whenever it is done, one that will be recognizable. I just find it distressing that a proper perspective is not all that comforting. How, exactly, will things be skewed? This uncertainty is something that I do not like. Ending my 12-month Metropass, on account of the certainty that I will not be travelling much at all in April, at least, feels significant. How much more will my lived world shrink?
These past few days, I have been thinking of the classic song “Sous le ciel de Paris”, a hymn of love to that metropolis written and performed just a few years after Paris risked destruction in the Second World War. Has a similar song been written for Toronto?