I’ve made a short list of New Years goals this time around – they may seem less ambitious, but I think it gives me a lot of room for improvement!
My Goals for 2012:
1. Learn Something
2. Lose Something
3. Do Something
4. Fix Something
5. Stop Doing Something
6. Start Doing Something
7. Discover Something
That’s it! I’ll get started right away! Happy New Year!
Last weekend I had the pleasure of seeing Tangerine Dream live in concert at Moogfest in Asheville, North Carolina. This would be my 4th concert in the 25 years or so I’ve been listening to the band. The last time I had seen TD live was in London in 2004 for the Purgatorio premier, and I made sure not to miss this show as one never knows when they will be in the states again, much less the “South”. I made the three-hour drive to Asheville in the suddenly cold rain, and met up with some old and new friends before the show.
We tackled the weather to head over to the Civic Center and get in line early for the band preceding TD (“Beak”). This was a good idea in that it gave us the best seats in the house for two show. In line, we met some more fans from all over the US and Canada who were thinking the same as me: never pass up a chance to see TD. “Beak” was interesting, reminiscent of the late-60’s KrautRock style. But for me, it was an appetizer for the main show: Tangerine Dream.
The lineup was Herr Froese, of course, and Thorsten Quaesching, Iris Camaa, Bernard Beibi, Linda Spa, and violinist, Hoshiko Yamane. The set list comprised mostly material from the last few albums (Island of the Fay, Angel of the West Window, Views from a Red Train), but some classics worked their way into the set. The songs were from the more energetic and guitar-based spectrum, with the outstanding exceptions being “Living in Eternity” (always a heart-breaker!) and “Long Island Sunset”. Being part of the hard-core-fan contingent, we were right up against the stage and buried in the hard bass sound – quite a different sensation to listening to the concert recordings on the way to and from the concert. We even found ourselves doing a little head-banging to the more intensive pieces. Listening to the concert later put a bit more perspective on the songs, but it was fun to be up close for once.
Before we knew it, the concert was drawing to an end. I wish Edgar would have ripped “Hamlet” or another guitar solo piece out, but the performance was under some time constraints, so we had to settle for some acoustic guitar on “Cloudburst Flight”. We had hoped there was going to be a meet-and-greet with the band after the concert, but the restrictions of the venue didn’t seem to allow for it. I did have the pleasure of meeting Edgar’s wife, Bianca Acquaye, after the concert, and she was very sweet to take some time to talk.
After the concert, I found myself a little weary from lack of food and drink from the rush of the day’s activities, so I parked myself in a cozy pub to refill and watch the end of the World Series (Yeah, Cards!). I thought about finding another venue to watch, but finding myself satisfied, I peacefully made my way back in the cold rain to my hotel to go to sleep with my brand new set of Tangerine Dreams.
The entire concert can be heard here on NPR’s website.
My wife brought this beer back from her home country. Gotta admit: it’s very sweet – almost too sweet for my tastes. But I certainly appreciate the gift and the effort to get it here.
I wonder: if they made a beer called “Washington Beer”, would anyone find it appealing? More or less so than, say, “Old Milwaukee”?
Okay, so it’s been a while since I’ve contributed anything to my own blog. I know that’s a little sad. Also a little ironic considering how much stuff has been going on “up here” [tapping brain]. Work, parenthood, and all have been real adventures, but I’ve not taken the time to perform a mental inventory and determined what select cuts I’d like to share with my friends and followers. More and more I feel I need to do that – not necessarily because it would be interesting, but mainly because I need to park it somewhere else before either I get filled beyond capacity or it gets lost in the shuffle. Also I’ve been inspired by such great bloggers such as James Lileks who make it seem so easy. I know it’s not, but you never know how these things are going to turn out.
There are some topics and areas that I would really like to spin off into discussions of their own. Those bloggers I admire always state that it is best to keep your posting onto specific subjects, and not “scattershot” everything you may know and love into one place – so I’m working on that, too. The plan is to keep this place for the more personal commenting, and take the reviews and more geeky topics to other homes.
I’m trying to use less and less Facebook, and not just for the privacy issues – I really don’t feel it’s best to bring the full load of laundry to that forum and lay it out. It’s more how I’ll catch up with others’ goings-on (or is it going-ons?) and quick pokes here and there. I’m trying to divert the creativity here when I can. Twitter is always fun, but obviously the constraints of the medium don’t allow for much depth.
Also gonna experiment with new posting tools – so if a one-paragrapher pops into my head while waiting in line at the Costco, I might be able to get it up before it gets knocked out trying to recall what flavor of gelato I was supposed to bring home.
Kind of feels like going back to a town where I used to live – let’s see how long I stay this time. <wink>
The Ricochet Gatherings were a series of electronic music “mini-festivals” that were held in various locations in the U.S. and Europe over the past decade. The first three Gatherings were held in the Okeefenokee Swamp, and it was at the third one in 2002 that I met “Boombox” Dave. Dave was brave enough to venture across the Atlantic Ocean with his wife to meet up with other EM-heads to listen to some unique music in a very isolated location with other kindred spirits. He was always helping out with the setup and the “chores” and keeping us “connoisseurs” and the musicians entertained with his stories and humor.
The following year’s Gathering was in the Mojave Desert at Nipton, California (Fallout players will recognize the name), and Dave was again in attendance with that twinkle in his eye and a humorous quip on his tongue. During the trip, I was fool enough to break a bone in my foot, and had to spend the last couple of days in a cast and with crutches. While I don’t recall the exact details of the conversations, I do remember Dave sitting with me and telling me a heroic tail of his making a journey in a delivery truck in London to help keep my mind off the injury. He also offered to get me a stiff drink or two to help take the edge off when the meds started to wear off.
Nipton was my last RG attendance, but I would always hear updates of the following Gatherings, and how Dave played an important part in each of those. There were also the group emails from his wife, Marion detailing their move to Spain and all the projects Dave undertook in getting their new home fixed up.
Dave passed away this week – electronic music lost one of it’s biggest fans, and many of lost a good friend. Farewell, Boombox. Keep it playing loud up there, will ya?
A co-worker pointed me to this singer this week (as a birthday present). This is just so bizarre that I can’t explain why, but it’s one of the most compelling videos that I’ve seen in a long time. Maybe it’s the incongruence of the voice with the singer, or it’s the complete lack of polish, but something drove me to sit through the entire catalog on YouTube.
Enjoy – if you dare…
The official story of Green Desert is that is a reworked collection of songs that Edgar Froese and Chris Franke worked out as demo tracks for Virgin while Baumann was out of the country on the first of many wanderings. Upon his return, the tracks were put in the “vault”, and the trio worked on completely different material for the next album. 10 years later, while compiling everything together for the In The Beginning album box set (and CD’s releases of all the “Pink Years”), Edgar found the tracks. He and Chris then worked some overlays over the top with modern equipment to make it marketable.
Debate rages over how much of the Green Desert tracks are the original recordings and how much is re-worked material. Franke remarked about getting a phaser and rhythm controller for the recording session adding to the arsenal of sequencers and synths already in their collection, but most gear-heads can pickup on the 80’s-era instrumentation layered on top. The album itself is bit of a disjoint in the evolution from the Pink Years to the Virgin Years – steady and rhythmic instead of flowing and organic. It’s interesting to think of the turn the band might have taken had Baumann not come back.
“Green Desert” is a song for going out in the heat. Once the scorching introduction of VCS3 and Moogs kick in, the song begins to be driven by guitar and drum with the synths providing the background drone. The pace is slow and steady – almost Gilmour-esque. It’s a slow walk under a hot sun. Franke picks up the intensity with more rolls-per-measure but keeps the pace on the drums as Edgar’s guitar drifts off – a controlled burn. Finally it all breaks through with a phaser blast, and we are left to wander with the more modern synth chords under the song’s end.
“White Clouds” is an energetic drum and synth duet. Franke again show his jazz chops as the melody plays along. Synth fills complete the passages between the melody parts as Franke keeps turning it up a notch, ala “Fly and Collision” (is that a Yamaha I hear?) but this time we get a more gratifying ending.
“Astral Traveler” is a sequenced piece – a parent to the forthcoming “Phaedra” and “Rubycon”. Edgar works a Indian-flute melody over the top of a phalanged synth to keep things from becoming too repetitious. The song is picked up again slightly disguised in albums such as Ambient Monkeys and Analogue Space Years.
“Indian Summer” finishes off the album with simple chord stabs and whooshes topped off by that flute again. A look around outside your cave-dwelling on a windy Mojave afternoon…
Whether Green Desert sits in the front or middle of your Tangerine Dream collection, it’s a worthy addition for the title track alone. When it gets cold outside, put this album on (along with a good measure of Flashpoint) and you’ll swear it warmed up a few degrees. You’ve been warned about playing it on hot days.
Throughout my life, while certain tastes have changed (I’m not going to use the term “matured”, because that would imply that certain tastes are superior to another); I now drink coffee and Belgian-style ales, and I like the tastes of certain spices and cheeses. But just like beets, somehow I’ve never found any appeal for the “musical” genre. That includes film, stage, and television performances. It’s odd, because I have what I think is a decent amount of appreciation for both drama and music, including opera. But I will hurl a copy of Grease, Mama Mia, or even Wizard of Oz far away if given the opportunity.
I’ve never made it through an entire showing of the Sound of Music. When Fame was on TV, that was when I would go do my homework. I really enjoy the Monty Python films and shows, but I have trouble getting through The Meaning of Life due to the musicality of it, and I have no desire to see Spamalot. I find Lon Cheney’s silent-movie version of Phantom of the Opera to be a far superior work of art to the Andrew Lloyd Webber remake. This revulsion extends even to cartoons – Disney being the biggest culprit of this.
I’m not really sure of the root cause for this dislike. Maybe it’s all those church choir musicals in which I participated as a youth. Maybe it’s the vomit-in-my-mouth response to really bad hippy tripe from the 60-70’s such as Sgt. Pepper and JC: Superstar. Maybe it’s the rational-reality part of me that sees no sense in people breaking into song and dance for no reason other than to communicate – perhaps due to lack of the writers ability to script out normal conversation: “Ah, screw it. Let’s make it into a musical!”
Now, those who know me, know that two of my favorite films are The Blues Brothers and O, Brother, Where Art Thou? How do I explain these exceptions? Well, I don’t consider them exceptions in that I don’t classify these films as “musicals”. They are films with a high content of music, but the music is not employed as a vehicle to express the thoughts, feelings, or predicaments of the protagonists. In The Blues Brothers, every song, with the exception of Aretha Franklin’s “Think” is almost completely interchangeable with another song. And while, O Brother’s “A Man of Constant Sorrow” is certainly a metaphor for the protagonists’ plight, they could have also sang any other “old timey” spiritual and the scenes would have worked.
Okay, looking through my collection: Pink Floyd’s The Wall. Am I splitting hairs in calling it “Rock Opera”? Maybe – there’s not a lot of choreography going on there (goose-stepping doesn’t count). Spinal Tap and A Mighty Wind are technically filmed as musical documentaries. Amadeus is a drama centered around music. Tangerine Dream’s Divine Comedy trilogy falls under the cantata category. And the Wrath of Khan may be space opera, but it’s not been made into a musical yet…
If you can come up with a musical that you think be or become an exception to my rule, I’d love for you to recommend one. I’m not clinging to this preference out of any reason other than smugness.
Following the release and tour of Zeit, the fairly-stable trio of Edgar Froese, Chris Franke, and Peter Baumann returned to the studio to create Tangerine Dream’s fourth album, Atem (which translates into “Breath”) and their last album for Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser’s Ohr Records. Atem is considered Tangerine Dream’s “pre-breakthrough album” in that the release caught British DJ John Peel’s ear, and he made it his Album of the Year for 1973. This attention allowed the musical spotlight to focus on the Dream long enough to snag the interest of Richard Branson and a 10-year Virgin record contract.
The album is a perfect fit in the continuum between Zeit and Phaedra with the band becoming more comfortable with their electronic instruments. A prominent addition to their repertoire was the Mellotron – a mechanical sampling appliance which could emulate various instruments and sounds. Froese himself would plumb the depths of the instrument in his later solo endeavors.
The opening song is a creature of two characters: the opening makes it clear that this album is not going to be another Zeit. The four note intro is soon accompanied by Franke on drums. The drums and synths then take off in their own direction at an ever accelerating rate. Suddenly, it becomes overwhelming and explodes, but it quickly evolves into a mood reminiscent of “Origin of Supernatural Possibilities”. An ambient synth and organ whisper and organic drone and various ideas fade in and out over the next ten minutes. The song ends with a mysterious blend of whirrs and sizzles like a helicopter hovering over an alien jungle.
The next two songs are two of my favorite TD pieces ever since buying the Collection compilation: “Fauni Gena” is an early Froese Mellotron masterpiece with sampled bird and insect noises joined by electronic chirps and whistles to accompany the lead flute and string melody lines. The solo melodies build to a harmonized crescendo and then take a “breath” – allowing a very ominous synth bass line to creep in like a serpent creeping along the forest floor. This is music for the deep forests after the rain has passed.
“Circulation of Events” is an ambient piece but with a lot more fluidity and depth than the second-half of “Atem”. Franke and Baumann take us back into space, and perhaps back in time, with more synth-based washes and hums. A sampled short mandolin strum punctuates the song along the way so we don’t get lost in the eddies and swirls created by the mixture of sounds.
“Wahn” gives rise to the phrase “And now for something completely different.” The band resorts to using their own voices to create the opening sound effects. Mutters and moans turn to jarring shouts and screams along with the return on Franke’s modulated drums. If your mind started to wander with “Circulation”, it will snap back to attention with “Wahn”. The song then begins to even out both in mood and pace as Franke and Froese conduct a tamer drum and Mellotron jam session.
The Dream definitely found their footing with Atem. Considering the high quantity of experimentalism, it is still a very listenable album, and one I return to often. It is a solid foundation for their later, and more popular, albums and deserving of any TD fan’s attention.
If Alpha Centauri is the soundtrack for another planet, Zeit is the soundtrack for the space between the two planets. One of the problems I found reviewing this album is that it’s not something that can be casually listened to: Of all of Tangerine Dream’s albums, with Zeit, you need to spend dedicated time with it – not in the car or on your commute. This is sit down (or lie down) and listen-only music. Some people seem to think this is music to get you off to sleep (which has happened, and it directed me into some very strange dreams!), but it has the depth to provide so much more. In the same way that sensory deprivation provides a way for the mind to travel deeper into itself, there is a sense of musical restriction in Zeit that directs the mind in a similar way. That’s not to say it is a “relaxing” album – it is a very difficult listen for many Tangerine Dream fans – but it can be rewarding experience if you give it time.
Zeit was recorded in 1972 at Dierks Studio in Cologne and marked the first recorded instance of the stable line-up of Edgar Froese (guitar, mellotron, and organ), Chris Franke (VCS and Moog), and Peter Baumann (VCS) that would continue until Baumann’s departure in 1977. Steve Schroyder makes a guest return on organ, and other contributing artists include Florian Fricke (of Popol Vul) on the Big Moog and Christian Vallbracht, Jochen von Grumbcow, Hans Joachim Brüne and Johannes Lücke on cellos.
“Birth of Liquid Plejades” is a sorrowful piece, at least at the beginning, as the cellos begin their chorus. Then a lonely Moog begins its warbling solo like a solitary songbird. A pulsing organ finally joins in with the rest of the synths creating a haunting background which winds its way through the end of the song.
“Nebulous Dawn” is perhaps the most timeless (if you’ll pardon the pun) piece on the album. It wouldn’t be out of place as the background for any modern movie during a long dark industrial scene. Gritty and ominous as metallic screams and cello moans work over an evil bubbling synth.
Someone once said that Zeit is one note held over four album sides. On “Origin of Supernatural Possibilities”, this is certainly not the case. Initially, there doesn’t appear to be a lot going on beyond Edgar’s guitar strumming over chorus similar to “Atmospheres”, but underneath, there is a formula brewing. Imagine a flight through a pulsar as the VCS continually pulses in the background. The strings recreate the thrum of an engine driving you through the plasmatic mass. Nearing the end, we hear the shimmering organ reminiscent of energy waves hitting the shields. The song ends as calmly as it begins with Edgar again on guitar.
“Zeit” closes out the album in a drawn out way with a hint of things to come in future albums such as Phaedra and Rubycon. Whispers and cries hover over a cascade of synthetic rhythms and drones. This is the most haunting song from the album. Unfortunately, on the single-CD re-releases of Zeit, this song has been cut short by about 2 minutes.
My first exposure to Zeit was when I was sixteen with the purchase of the Tangerine Dream “Pink Years” compilation album The Collection. Included on the album was “Birth of Liquid Plejades”, which was one of the most mellow sounding pieces of music I’d ever heard up to that time. Later, in college, I decided to pick up the entire album on CD. I remember thinking to myself as I bought it, “Well, ‘Liquid Plejades’ is probably the slowest song of the album – I’m sure the others are more up-tempo.” I was quite wrong, and I didn’t know what to do with the album for a long time. It’s almost 20 years later, and I’m not sure if it’s due to a sense of maturity or patience, but in the repeated listening of Zeit for this review, the album has really grown on me. While it won’t be the music I have blaring when I’m driving with the top down, I have a new appreciation for its subtleties and consistency to its vision.