Coldplay | Prospekt's March

I didn't review Viva La Vida because, let's face it, all us Coldplay fans were going to get it regardless of what anyone said. The EP, however, may be a different case... I heard Coldplay say in an interview back in July that they'd release a finished version (i.e. with lyrics) of Life in Technicolor, which I couldn't wait for, since that was one of the best songs on the album without lyrics. So buying the EP seemed like a no-brainer because I wanted to hear that one song. When I found out that eight tracks would be on this extended play, I got my hopes up that this could be pretty cool. Here are my thoughts on the disc.

(1) "Life in Technicolor II" lives up to the hype, as far as I'm concerned. They've added lyrics that fit the song's feel, they fit musically, and I really like what they've done with it. I probably would have liked this song more if I hadn't heard the instrumental version first, because it was that good. I'm honestly not sure which version I like more.

(2) "Postcards from Far Away" is a beautiful, light, happy piano solo that invokes images of a leaf blowing on the breeze from one city to another. It is, however, only 48 seconds long, and while it's quite nice, its brevity is disappointing.

(3) "Glass of Water" will surely be a highlight for Coldplay fans. It melds the styles of their last two albums perfectly. Like Viva's tracks, it has a very "big" feel, building up and exploding with lots of instrumentation and Martin's vocals soaring over it all. Like X&Y, it's relatively upbeat for most of the song and comes down at the end to a minimal lead-out. If you're okay with that kind of thing, you'll love this song.

(4) "Rainy Day" seems to be an experiment... Over a boppy electronic drum/bass beat, some A.D.D. electric guitar, and countless sounds that came from some children's music artist, the verses don't make any sense. The choruses make an attempt at convalescence, using the same strings that are in the Viva's title track, but when Martin starts droning on with: "And I love it when you come over to my house / I love it when you come over to my house," this doesn't fit anywhere in the phrasing, or in the music, and it's glaringly obvious how much this sticks out. The whole song just sounds like it's on speed, not able to focus on anything. EP's are a good place to try new things, so it's nice that the band clearly is here, with the piano piece, and whatever they're trying to accomplish here. But like all experiments, sometimes they go wrong...horribly wrong.

(5) "Prospekt's March" is a nice flowing song that may or may not go anywhere. It's built the same of most of their other songs, with a bell-curved shape, slow and quiet, to some kind of climax, back down to slow and quiet again, but the climax isn't an explosion like in "Fix You," it's just louder and deeper. Overall, a nice tune. I'm not sure about the key phrase, "Don't you wish love could be as simple / as fish swimming 'round in a barrel / when you've got the gun?" And then Martin's vocals go up into that octave he loves at the emotional parts, but after talking about fish, I just can't feel it, man. Luckily the depth comes after the next lines, talking about "lying in my own separate sky," and how "I don't want to die on my own here tonight;" anyway, not bad.

(6) "Lost+" is the one with Jay-Z. Okay, this honestly made me chuckle a little bit. Here's what you should know about this "remix:" Near the end of the second chorus, they've dubbed Jay-Z doing a verse over the original music (where that electric guitar solo is), extending the pre-solo just long enough for him to get his whole rap in. This is all they did, and it's very obvious. Now, I respect that they're broadening their musical scope a bit, but this is such a half-hearted attempt that I can't respect this song.

(7) "Lovers In Japan (Osaka Sun Mix)" is very simply "Lovers In Japan / Reign Of Love" without "Reign of Love." That's all it is, down to the second. When I saw "Osaka Sun Mix" I was really hoping for some cool remix, but no, it's just the first half of the song on Viva, and, in my opinion, the worse half.

(8) "Now My Feet Won't Touch The Ground" sounds exactly like "Kingdom Come" without the big build-up. Acoustic, Martin's low voice.

I find it interesting that Coldplay has gotten into looping thematic elements in their works. I.E. Viva La Vida (album) began and ended the same way, and here they're beginning (the lyrics in the first track are "now my feet won't touch the ground") and ending with the same lyrics/ideas. I can see why they'd do this on an album: it really makes the whole thing come to fruition, and begs the listener to listen to it again. I find it strange that they've done it on an EP, but I don't really know what to make of it, maybe they're practicing.

Overall, this is an EP, so I can't be too critical; It has its real downers, but it has a couple tracks worth picking up. If I knew what I know now, I would definitely buy the couple tracks I like and steer clear of the relative disasters. I hope I've helped you determine whether or not you'd go for some tracks over others.

A Few Words on Ágætis Byrjun by Sigur Rós, My Favorite Album of All-Time

I just did this thing. I was excited that I'd just received an instant message from this girl I like, so with my arms under my chest, I pressed myself up against the desk with eyes nearing the computer screen, like how an eager boy glues himself to the storefront window around Christmas time. I was listening to "Olsen Olsen" and the cyclical, rhythmic bass that drives the song was vibrating through the desk into my bones. It was incredibly relaxing, and I felt like perhaps these guys had thought about the therapeutic value of their music, even though that seems....well, highly possible actually. It reminded me of this concept I recently learned about, called entrainment, in which heartbeats and brain waves, or even people, become synchronized, beating as one....

This album is at once relaxing and energizing. It strips away my sadness, worry, anger, and grief. The music in this album honestly makes my heart double in size; every time I swear I feel it expanding within my chest. That feeling you get when you love something so much, and you're so happy, that you feel yourself overfilling with joy, like it's somehow about to edge over the brim... I can never get sick of this album, either. It has slowly become my most-listened-to-album of all, because, like the really great books and movies, it's more than a collection of words and scores; it's a memory; an experience. It evokes and creates a set of thoughts and emotions that are too pure to ignore, and too life-affirming to experience once (or not again and again).

It wasn't always like that: the first few months I owned this, I put it on as relaxing, oft times entrancing background music, usually with incense, while reading. It wasn't until I took the time to put my headphones on and let it become the only thing in my consciousness that I realized how divine it was. Hearing this, and seeing Jónsi Birgisson sing makes me wonder if these guys are even human. How can human beings make such beautiful music? It's more than just an amalgamation of noises and sounds and vocals and chords, it's like a living, breathing being...that wakes up and lives, and speaks, and eats and dances and yells and whispers, that ebbs and flows and pushes and pulls....I've listened to thousands of artists, and none of them have created anything quite like this. I've seen dozens of shows, and none of them have equaled the vivacity, the ethereality, and the complete absorptivity of their show.

I think one of the--if not THE--fundamental difference(s) is that they're not singing in English. I'm such an interpreter, such an analyzer and reflector, that I always listen to and decipher the lyrics as best as I can. My favorite sad songs are all by other artists, but for some reason, Sigur Rós makes me feel something bigger and more euphoric than any other band, and that's one reason why: their unreadable (or nonsensical lyrical) music appeals to the more primitive emotion centers of the brain, rather than the higher-order verbal and analytical centers. This is why their music pierces straight through to their listeners' souls. (And why they have such a huge following with non-Icelandic speakers). All conscious censorship and blinding perception is thrown away, leaving an open passage for their otherworldly, spiritual music.

This of course makes me think of classical music, which is non-lyrical, but the calculated, geometric compositions by Bach and Mozart and other geniuses are too technical to bypass the higher brain functions. Also, the lack of vocals entirely creates somewhat of a distance between the nonliving instruments and their living listeners, whereas the simple sound of a voice, inflected up and down into each emotion, creates an inherent bond. Perhaps Birgisson's uniquely high-pitched voice achieves this even more readily: his voice being more similar to a child's, and therefore, harkening back to when our brains were functioning almost exclusively on basic emotions. Obviously, people all over the world enjoy music in languages other than their own, but I suspect that Sigur Rós knew of this visceral power of their music when they created their own instrumental language.

Favorite Song: "Motorcycle Drive By" by Third Eye Blind

This song is perfect. One of the all-time best examples of the soft-hard-soft progression in a rock-pop song. Lyrically: heartbreaking, relatable, sad, angry, hurt, but near the end, forward-looking. The acoustic guitar is beautiful. The build to the electric guitar explosion with Jenkins' scream is impossible not to feel in every muscle.

This was one of the four gems at the end of their 1997 debut album, which many listeners who only knew their hits (semi-charmed life, jumper, and how's it going to be) missed out on. This was, for many people my age, an essential album. Right in those key identity-formation years, with songs about such issues and feelings! "And there's this burning / like there's always been / I've never been so alone / and I've / never been so alive." Absolutely perfect; the best song Stephan Jenkins ever wrote. After just reading these lyrics again, I thought, "this song has a California feel" (not just the line "New York City is Evil")...turns out that makes sense coming from this San Francisco quartet....The album was produced by Jenkins and recorded in SF, following the attention from major labels after opening for Oasis in '96 and performing a number of Bay Area shows.

When I listen, only listen to this song, it sets me back, in time, and emotionally; my chest opens up and I'm entirely vulnerable all over again. This song is powerful enough, probably because of my past tied to it, to open up closed wounds.

"This is a song about a girl who dumped me. On my skinny ass. And I wrote a song for her...It's a song called Motorcycle Drive By" *(crowd bursts into laughter)* "Hahaha, I never thought of it that way. And you all did!" - from a live recording I have. So while it's not about mowing down an ex with an Uzi, it is about a relationship that has just ended, and about that feeling that outweighs any other: that penetrating grief and regret tinged with an inevitable, heartbreaking fondness. This song plays out like a meandering journey of memories in our watery head: from one scene to the next, the images come and go, from the good to the bad, until the renewing tide brings us home.



Summer time, and the wind is blowing outside
in lower Chelsea
And I don't know what I'm doing in this city
The sun is always in my eyes
It crashes through the windows
And I'm sleeping on the couch
When I came to visit you

That's when I knew
That I could never have you
I knew that before you did
Still I'm the one who's stupid
And there's this burning
Like there's always been
I've never been so alone
And I've
Never been so alive

Visions of you on a motorcycle drive by
The cigarette ash flies in your eyes, and you don't mind
you smile
And say the world it doesn't fit with you
I don't believe you
You're so serene
Careening through the universe
Your axis on a tilt
You're guiltless and free
I hope you take a piece of me with you

And there's things I would like to do
That you don't believe in
I would like to build something
But you'll never see it happen
And there's this burning
Like there's always been
I've never been so alone
And I've
I've never been so alive

And there's this burning
There is this burning

Where's the soul I want to know
New York City is evil
The surface is everything
But I could never do that
Someone would see through that
And this is the last time
We'll be friends again
When I get over you
You'll wonder who I am
And there's this burning,
Just like there's always been
I've never been so alone, alone
And I've, and I've
I've never been so alive

So alive

I go home to the coast,
it starts to rain,
I paddle out on the water
Alone
Taste the salt and taste the pain
I'm not thinking of you again
Summer dies, and swells rise
The sun goes down in my eyes
See this rolling wave
Darkly coming
To take me
Home

And I've never been so alone
And I've never been so alive

Jens Lekman | Night Falls Over Kortedala

In homage to Lekman's nontraditional approach, a review in three formats:

tragicomic
moving, movable
cow(bells)
happy
smile
snap
recorder
lift / fall
strings
witty
strange, unique
voice
light
contagious
fun
DROLL
CATCHY

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In The Opposite of Hallelujah, when that ditty-pop piano starts playing under those weightless staccato strings, I feel as if little clouds of joy are jutting under my feet as I skip up into the sun-drenched ether. Such ridiculous, fantastical reverie is exactly the kind of thing this album evokes!

I like Jens's voice; he sounds nothing like Barry Manilow!

Lekman, or the character that he plays, is perfect for his music's dual tragicomic nature (someone else came up with this term, I'm sorry but I don't remember who). He's the seamless combination of rigidly obedient reformatory student and the ludicrous, somewhat self-deprecating class clown, that everybody can't help but like. His hair, the way he carries himself, his voice, and his music all contrast sharply with his lyrics. He writes songs about heartbreak and awkward situations in a comical (sarcastic, absurd, clever, hilarious) way. He's created something so unique in his work because very few have ever thought to combine the elements he does, while nobody has done it so likably.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

explosions of horns and strings set the tone for the record in the idealistic "and i remember every kiss," in which he explains, "and i would never kiss anyone, who doesn't burn me like the sun..." i love that line. actually makes me think about my life and whether or not this is even remotely possible to achieve.

"sipping on the sweet nectar" is delightfully upbeat, and the minor key choruses simultaneously unsettle and uplift.

"the opposite of hallelujah" could be heartbreaking, but jens won't allow this, not in his music. honest, pessimistic, underlyingly sad lyrics lightly situated over upbeat, jubilant music = lekman coping by at once coming to terms with lyrically but denying artistically the existence of despair, doubt, and disappointment.

"a postcard to nina" is one of my favorite tracks this year. disclaimer-->this is NOT for everyone: i've encountered some pretty negative reactions to this album and this song, while others profess its utter brilliance...me being in the latter camp, of course, this song is incredibly clever, hilarious, and pleasing to the ear, especially for a narrative. (first chorus: "oh, god! jesus christ! i try to focus on your eyes. we're having dinner with your family now, keep a steady look at your left eyebrow. if it's raised, it means yes, if it's not, it means 'take a guess.' hey! you! stop kicking my legs, i'm doing my best, can you pass the figs?") it's the ostensibly true story about his friend nina, who's a lesbian, whose father is a traditional catholic man, whose friend jens lekman acts as her boyfriend so that she can be with her girlfriend. it is a perfect song in so many ways.

"into eternity" provides an interesting dissonance generated by slightly off-key accordian vs. recorder, offset by lekman's dreamily smooth vocals.

"i'm leaving you because i don't love you" is a bit of a diversion, utilizing some electronic synths and samplings which were previously unheard in the album, so obviously anyway.

perhaps the barry manilow comparisons arise from "if i could cry (it would feel like this)", in the high-pitched, wavy strings and especially the backing vocals...this would be the most repetitive of the tracks, one of the ones i skip over sometimes.

"your arms around me" is a perfect pop song, and it gets me moving. instrumentation is slightly more conventional, as is the songwriting (not the lyrics, but the verses and choruses are more distinct here), still undeniably lekman. his voice is the focal point in this track.

ditto for "shirin", but this song has a completely different feel. that's one of the album's virtues: each song, while remaining unmistakably lekman in overall sound, sound much different from the rest--that's a sign of real, voracious creativity. anyway, shirin is much more airy: lighter in feeling, and the lyrics contribute to this considerably, almost onomatopoeically, as the chorus goes, shirin, shirin, shirin, shirin, shirin, down and up and down as if gliding through the air. he comes back down to the ground, treading lightly, for the verses. it's a pleasing little rollercoaster.

"it was a strange time in my life" is pretty strange, probably the butt of any jokes dissenters of the album will make; starts out with some young child "do doo do do doo," over a trilling flute and/or recorder. but when lekman starts going on about some of the weirdest happenings in his what-must-have-been-incredibly-awkward adolescence, the humor makes the song worth it.

"kanske Är jag Kär i dig", the only song title to employ his native swedish, is still in english, and the chorus, gentle inflections of "ooo's" and "ah's" only, comes between verses that contain various snippets from who-knows-what, seemingly nonsensical, stream-of-consciousness ramblings, which lekman no doubt acknowledges, "this has of course nothing to do with anything, i just get so nervous when i'm talking to you, all i think about everyday is just kissing you, you know that feeling that feels so refreshingly new," and into the chorus that actually makes the listener feel refreshed. well done jens.

"friday night at the drive-in bingo" is some of the most fun on this album. so much fun, that every time this song comes on, my fingers start snapping, my arms start moving, and my feet start stomping (because I CAN DANCE!). his singing gets faster as it goes on, and he incorporates a retro-sounding saxophone for the chorus, which melds perfectly with the story of finding some drive-in bingo, in the middle of nowhere, with, of course, old people. *sigh* if only I could live like you, jens.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

If you like him, check out these tasty links (his official website has some free tracks-"presents"-and a link to his myspace, a diary, among other amusing things):
http://jenslekman.com/
http://www.mapleleaves.se/lyrics.htm
Jens Lekman Strips Down for the Interface

Brett Dennen | Hope for the Hopeless

I just did a listen-through of this, and I don't think I'll be giving it much more attention. This album is BORING. I'm a big fan of "Ain't No Reason," and a fan of "There is So Much More," and overall, I liked his last album; it was nice to have in the background when I was cleaning the apartment, or putting together an office chair, or chatting with a friend. Dennen's never really made in-your-face, tug-at-the-heartstrings music, so I'm sure no one expects that here. But while his previous efforts exhibited some style (often compared to early John Mayer, although I don't think he's talented enough for that), this album is, ultimately, monotonous drivel. Nothing on this album seems to be of any consequence; there's nothing major happening, just half-hearted musings and reflections on politics and relationships, the usual. It's very baseline, lyrically and musically. The backing music is empty, with only a few instruments providing repetitive lines. Like many of you, I'm sure, I was excited about the album when I heard "Ain't Gonna Lose You" on Grey's Anatomy. Well, while that song-the last on the album-starts strong, and offers the most emotionalism of any track on the disc, Dennen eventually repeats "I ain't gonna lose you" 48 times, and that's the majority of the song, and that's it. Despite this, it's still the best song on the album.