This report on the BBC website is more comprehensive and balanced:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/7179834.stm
It's particularly good to see that the report highlights the lack of returns servives offered by promoters or agencies. When tickets used to be sold almost exlusively by venue box offices, it was once even possible for event-goers who suddenly found themselves unable to attend to be refunded, and for the tickets to be legitimately resold at face value to others. I can't think of a single major ticket agency that currently offers this service.
I suspect that a blanket ban on unofficial reselling would be impractical and unhelpful given the lack of suitable returns policies. The problem at the moment though is that the secondary market is completely unregulated - and there seems to be little hint of any attempt to try and cap the grotesque prices at which tickets are resold on auction sites. Nobody in the Department of Culture, Media and Sport seems to have recognised that these 'secondary' prices have the effect of legitimising huge increases, well above the rate of inflation, in the standard prices charged for 'event' gigs, enabling the likes of The Rolling Stones, Madonna, Neil Young, Barbra Streisand and Dolly Parton to charge absolutely outrageous prices. Yes, demand and willingness to pay fuels the market - but there will always be people wealthy or silly enough to part with huge sums for one night in the company of their favourite performers. What's more worrying is that the promoters/artists levy that is being suggested here will merely increase the 'secondary' prices further.
A 'voluntary' solution across the industry will not work as touts themselves will not be party to it. Does the government not recognise that many of them are professionals in the art of reselling tickets? Similarly, it's hardly in the interests of ticket auction sites to restrict this kind of activity in any way. Why do the interests of the consumer seem to be the lowest on the list of priorities in this report? Entertainment should not be the preserve of a wealthy elite.
Showing posts with label Media. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Media. Show all posts
Thursday, January 10, 2008
No Solution
Does the department of Culture, Media and Sport really have such a limited understanding of the effects of ticket touting?
http://www.nme.com/news/various-artists/33544
The idea that ticket touts are providing a 'good service' for fans is insulting to those fans who cannot afford to buy tickets at grossly inflated prices. These fans already have to contend with the excessive charges imposed by competing booking agents, and with an increasing tendency from promoters to charge a flat amount regardless of the quality of seats within a venue.
I'm hoping that it's imbalanced reporting from the NME that suggests that the profits of promoters seem to be the only issue the government is considering here! Promoters already make profit on the batches of tickets the touts buy out - their ability to make extra profit on resold tickets should not be a higher consideration than the ability of fans to obtain tickets legitimately in the first instance.
http://www.nme.com/news/various-artists/33544
The idea that ticket touts are providing a 'good service' for fans is insulting to those fans who cannot afford to buy tickets at grossly inflated prices. These fans already have to contend with the excessive charges imposed by competing booking agents, and with an increasing tendency from promoters to charge a flat amount regardless of the quality of seats within a venue.
I'm hoping that it's imbalanced reporting from the NME that suggests that the profits of promoters seem to be the only issue the government is considering here! Promoters already make profit on the batches of tickets the touts buy out - their ability to make extra profit on resold tickets should not be a higher consideration than the ability of fans to obtain tickets legitimately in the first instance.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
A Gender Divide?
Amidst all the usual venting of frustration on the MOJO letters page, one particular comment stands out this month. The appearance of Amy Winehouse on last month's end of year cover prompted one reader to highlight that she was the only woman to appear on the cover of the magazine in the whole of 2006-7. 24 months - and the editorial team could find no other female musician worthy of attention? If this means that the readership is predominantly male, as might reasonably be expected, why do men of a certain age not wish to read about female artistry?
I am not an avid fan of blind feminism, but then I am no patriarch either. Whilst neither gender has an innate claim to superiority, I have recently found myself increasingly drawn to the work of female songwriters. Indeed, the likes of Bjork, Feist, Marnie Stern, Susanna, Patricia Barber, Emmylou Harris, kd Lang, Bettye LaVette, Sharon Jones and Sylvie Lewis are among the most exciting singers and songwriters currently at work. Unfortunately, the latter seems to have been afforded next to no coverage in the UK press - even The Word magazine failing to follow the inclusion of one of her tracks on a covermount CD with anything more than a lukewarm review. She's playing at The Fly in London on Wednesday - and her songwriter meets stand-up comic routine is original and entertaining.
Surely the intuitive and sensitive qualities of a songwriter such as Leslie Feist are worthy of greater attention, particularly as she has now had a top ten hit in this country? Gazing into the past - Emmylou Harris is an artist in need of far greater appreciation in her own right - still she is constantly bombarded by questions about her relationship with Gram Parsons. There's recently been greater interest in the work of Vashti Bunyan and Karen Dalton. Also, an excellent compilation of the quite bizarre and unhinged work of Dory Previn is about to hit the stores - well worth a listen!
Perhaps a change will follow in 2008 - the most hyped 'breakthrough' artists this year would appear to be young women - Adele and Laura Marling. Whether or not they are the right examples remains to be seen.
I am not an avid fan of blind feminism, but then I am no patriarch either. Whilst neither gender has an innate claim to superiority, I have recently found myself increasingly drawn to the work of female songwriters. Indeed, the likes of Bjork, Feist, Marnie Stern, Susanna, Patricia Barber, Emmylou Harris, kd Lang, Bettye LaVette, Sharon Jones and Sylvie Lewis are among the most exciting singers and songwriters currently at work. Unfortunately, the latter seems to have been afforded next to no coverage in the UK press - even The Word magazine failing to follow the inclusion of one of her tracks on a covermount CD with anything more than a lukewarm review. She's playing at The Fly in London on Wednesday - and her songwriter meets stand-up comic routine is original and entertaining.
Surely the intuitive and sensitive qualities of a songwriter such as Leslie Feist are worthy of greater attention, particularly as she has now had a top ten hit in this country? Gazing into the past - Emmylou Harris is an artist in need of far greater appreciation in her own right - still she is constantly bombarded by questions about her relationship with Gram Parsons. There's recently been greater interest in the work of Vashti Bunyan and Karen Dalton. Also, an excellent compilation of the quite bizarre and unhinged work of Dory Previn is about to hit the stores - well worth a listen!
Perhaps a change will follow in 2008 - the most hyped 'breakthrough' artists this year would appear to be young women - Adele and Laura Marling. Whether or not they are the right examples remains to be seen.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Happy To Take The Bait
John Harris can be incredibly irritating sometimes. What exactly does he want to be? Political commentator with a diluted socialist angle? A cultural connoisseur? Or just a good old fashioned music hack?
He may have some good points in his lukewarm review of the new Magnetic Fields album for The Guardian (although his obvious contempt for Stephin Merritt's ironic approach to songwriting merely suggests that he lacks a sense of humour). Whilst I am an admirer of the group, my considered thoughts on that release will have to wait until I've heard the entire album. What has irked me more is the final paragraph: '...what might follow this? Merritt's next wheeze could find him mixing up any number of his previous releases - Sonny and Cher meets Randy Newman, perhaps, or maybe a fusion of Sinatra and Philip Glass. That would surely get him a load of five star internet reviews and drooling acclaim in the blogosphere.' Why does The Guardian, a paper with its very lifeblood currently dependant on its excellent website, still insist on printing this nonsense? Why can they not appreciate that a number of the people who read arts sections in newspapers are themselves bloggers? Why are all bloggers consistently tarred with the same brush, as if we're some kind of grand cult of ineptitude? Is it because the blogosphere has become something of which mainstream papers like The Guardian are increasingly wary - something that is undermining their supposedly untouchable position as the nation's arbiters of taste?
Whilst I am sometimes as guilty of lapsing into hyperbole as any writer, I try very hard to avoid writing purely as a fan. Indeed, I've written critically and honestly about artists whose work I really admire (wait for my hatchet job on Morrissey's forthcoming Greatest Hits for example, or see my thoughts on Prince at the 02 or my critical review of Bruce Springsteen's 'Magic', a good deal more honest than some of the slavish fanboy writing that appeared in print - 'the best album of his career' - do you really mean that?). Not every blogger drools slavishly without exercising critical judgement - indeed, such acumen is less and less the preserve of print journalists, many of whom seem to have a bewildering lack of knowledge of musical history or cultural context.
It's also worth remembering that musical appreciation is subjective - for every listener turned off by an artist like Stephin Merritt's reliance on conceits and wit, there will be another listener enticed by it. When writers discuss music, they ought to concentrate on trying to identify elements that could unite a group of listeners, even if that group might be a marginal minority (let's also not forget that, not least do the margins often become the mainstream in the long-term, but that minorities can exercise their own significant influence). At the most conservative interpretation - this might focus on a songwriter's grasp of melody, rhythm, metre, harmony or poetry. If they combine all of the above, they are probably on to something. If we're adopting a more adventurous standpoint, we might be wise to look at how successfully writers subvert expectations on these criteria and challenge their audiences, developing their wider tastes. Simply writing to assert your authority over other, mostly non-professional writers is too easy and serves as an unhelpful guide for readers.
The newspaper that pioneered internet content with Comment is Free ought to avoid alienating those people who most welcome the freedom and creativity afforded by the internet. Otherwise, their cultural commentators will simply render themselves irrelevant. For all the current media hype surrounding predictions for 2008, it's worth remembering that for every Mika, there's a Burial or Arcade Fire - acts now invading the mainstream whose unique and broad appeal developed initially from word of mouth over the internet. The 'blogosphere' has introduced me to a good deal of uncynical and positive, but also ultimately realistic writing about music. This comes from the people who actually consume music, rather than simply blagging their way through a PR-directed selection. Is there any reason why I should not be informed by these people every bit as much as by the journalists whose writing I also admire?
He may have some good points in his lukewarm review of the new Magnetic Fields album for The Guardian (although his obvious contempt for Stephin Merritt's ironic approach to songwriting merely suggests that he lacks a sense of humour). Whilst I am an admirer of the group, my considered thoughts on that release will have to wait until I've heard the entire album. What has irked me more is the final paragraph: '...what might follow this? Merritt's next wheeze could find him mixing up any number of his previous releases - Sonny and Cher meets Randy Newman, perhaps, or maybe a fusion of Sinatra and Philip Glass. That would surely get him a load of five star internet reviews and drooling acclaim in the blogosphere.' Why does The Guardian, a paper with its very lifeblood currently dependant on its excellent website, still insist on printing this nonsense? Why can they not appreciate that a number of the people who read arts sections in newspapers are themselves bloggers? Why are all bloggers consistently tarred with the same brush, as if we're some kind of grand cult of ineptitude? Is it because the blogosphere has become something of which mainstream papers like The Guardian are increasingly wary - something that is undermining their supposedly untouchable position as the nation's arbiters of taste?
Whilst I am sometimes as guilty of lapsing into hyperbole as any writer, I try very hard to avoid writing purely as a fan. Indeed, I've written critically and honestly about artists whose work I really admire (wait for my hatchet job on Morrissey's forthcoming Greatest Hits for example, or see my thoughts on Prince at the 02 or my critical review of Bruce Springsteen's 'Magic', a good deal more honest than some of the slavish fanboy writing that appeared in print - 'the best album of his career' - do you really mean that?). Not every blogger drools slavishly without exercising critical judgement - indeed, such acumen is less and less the preserve of print journalists, many of whom seem to have a bewildering lack of knowledge of musical history or cultural context.
It's also worth remembering that musical appreciation is subjective - for every listener turned off by an artist like Stephin Merritt's reliance on conceits and wit, there will be another listener enticed by it. When writers discuss music, they ought to concentrate on trying to identify elements that could unite a group of listeners, even if that group might be a marginal minority (let's also not forget that, not least do the margins often become the mainstream in the long-term, but that minorities can exercise their own significant influence). At the most conservative interpretation - this might focus on a songwriter's grasp of melody, rhythm, metre, harmony or poetry. If they combine all of the above, they are probably on to something. If we're adopting a more adventurous standpoint, we might be wise to look at how successfully writers subvert expectations on these criteria and challenge their audiences, developing their wider tastes. Simply writing to assert your authority over other, mostly non-professional writers is too easy and serves as an unhelpful guide for readers.
The newspaper that pioneered internet content with Comment is Free ought to avoid alienating those people who most welcome the freedom and creativity afforded by the internet. Otherwise, their cultural commentators will simply render themselves irrelevant. For all the current media hype surrounding predictions for 2008, it's worth remembering that for every Mika, there's a Burial or Arcade Fire - acts now invading the mainstream whose unique and broad appeal developed initially from word of mouth over the internet. The 'blogosphere' has introduced me to a good deal of uncynical and positive, but also ultimately realistic writing about music. This comes from the people who actually consume music, rather than simply blagging their way through a PR-directed selection. Is there any reason why I should not be informed by these people every bit as much as by the journalists whose writing I also admire?
Thursday, November 29, 2007
The Great 2007 Round-Up Begins!
It's not often that I speak in praise of a British monthly magazine end of year poll, but Uncut's latest offering isn't all that bad. At least they polled their writers for the January rather than the December issue as in the previous two years, although the rush to get the end of year lists decided before the year is out again makes for some notable omissions (Yeasayer, Burial, plus you would surely have expected them to include Levon Helm's 'Dirt Farmer').
That being said, LCD Soundsystem's 'Sound Of Silver' is a real curveball choice of album of the year for this nominally conservative magazine. The decision is carefully justified in the synopsis (which I'm guessing was penned by John Mulvey, the man behind their excellent Wild Mercury Sound new music blog). I had expected either The Hold Steady or Rilo Kiley to top the list. Other interesting and bold choices in the list include PJ Harvey at 3, Robert Wyatt at 6, Radiohead at 9, Bjork at 11, Battles at 12 (well done!), Panda Bear at 15, Feist at 19, Tinariwen at 33, Iron and Wine at 40. There are numerous omissions of course, but a Top 50 is simply never going to be broad enough (no jazz or hip hop, no modern composition, very little electronic music).
The list reflects the moribund state of British guitar music in 2007 - only Arctic Monkeys, Klaxons, Super Furry Animals, Manic Street Preachers and Maps make the cut (and I would argue that only one of those albums really merits a place anywhere near a top 50 of 2007).
Aside from a handful of truly silly selections (The Cribs, Babyshambles, Neil Young's 'Chrome Dreams II' which is really one great song in search of several more), this is the best list they've compiled for some time. They've certainly thrown down the gauntlet to Mojo.
I'm working on a Top 100 and a tracks of the year list, so blogging activity may be limited for a while. Anything I've not managed to write about yet will be covered with a decent synopsis in the lists!
That being said, LCD Soundsystem's 'Sound Of Silver' is a real curveball choice of album of the year for this nominally conservative magazine. The decision is carefully justified in the synopsis (which I'm guessing was penned by John Mulvey, the man behind their excellent Wild Mercury Sound new music blog). I had expected either The Hold Steady or Rilo Kiley to top the list. Other interesting and bold choices in the list include PJ Harvey at 3, Robert Wyatt at 6, Radiohead at 9, Bjork at 11, Battles at 12 (well done!), Panda Bear at 15, Feist at 19, Tinariwen at 33, Iron and Wine at 40. There are numerous omissions of course, but a Top 50 is simply never going to be broad enough (no jazz or hip hop, no modern composition, very little electronic music).
The list reflects the moribund state of British guitar music in 2007 - only Arctic Monkeys, Klaxons, Super Furry Animals, Manic Street Preachers and Maps make the cut (and I would argue that only one of those albums really merits a place anywhere near a top 50 of 2007).
Aside from a handful of truly silly selections (The Cribs, Babyshambles, Neil Young's 'Chrome Dreams II' which is really one great song in search of several more), this is the best list they've compiled for some time. They've certainly thrown down the gauntlet to Mojo.
I'm working on a Top 100 and a tracks of the year list, so blogging activity may be limited for a while. Anything I've not managed to write about yet will be covered with a decent synopsis in the lists!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
The NME Hits A New Low
OK, we'll ignore the stupidly small-minded 5/10 review of the actually mind-blowing Dirty Projectors album. We'll also ignore the pathetic, tedious campaign to get the Sex Pistols' 'God Save The Queen' to number one (it was a dreadful record then, it's still dreadful now - and how many more deserving 70s acts could the paper be re-evaluating?).
But we won't ignore the piece on Yeasayer. The band are entirely deserving of the coverage - indeed, credit to the NME for at last jumping on a sensible bandwagon. I've just pre-ordered their 'All Hour Cymbals' album for a bargain price from Play and am keenly anticipating its arrival in a couple of weeks. It's how the paper describes them that has sent me into an apoplectic rage though: 'World Music that doesn't make you want to puke'. What?! What does this really translate as? 'World Music made by White Americans'? Exactly what is the NME trying to say here? What do they define as World Music? The stupendous 2CD 'Best Of Ethiopiques' compilation I still need to blog about? The wonderful Ali Farka Toure and Toumani Diabate collaboration from a couple of years ago that still gets plentiful airplay in my home? Excellent releases from Tinariwen, Orchestra Baobab, the lush tango of Astor Piazolla, or Portuguese Fado music, Fela Kuti, Brotherhood of Breath? The Balkan music that has inspired Beirut, given a mildly positive review elsewhere in the paper? Not to mention a whole range of music from parts of the globe NME journalists won't have heard about, never mind visited. What a bunch of total morons.
But we won't ignore the piece on Yeasayer. The band are entirely deserving of the coverage - indeed, credit to the NME for at last jumping on a sensible bandwagon. I've just pre-ordered their 'All Hour Cymbals' album for a bargain price from Play and am keenly anticipating its arrival in a couple of weeks. It's how the paper describes them that has sent me into an apoplectic rage though: 'World Music that doesn't make you want to puke'. What?! What does this really translate as? 'World Music made by White Americans'? Exactly what is the NME trying to say here? What do they define as World Music? The stupendous 2CD 'Best Of Ethiopiques' compilation I still need to blog about? The wonderful Ali Farka Toure and Toumani Diabate collaboration from a couple of years ago that still gets plentiful airplay in my home? Excellent releases from Tinariwen, Orchestra Baobab, the lush tango of Astor Piazolla, or Portuguese Fado music, Fela Kuti, Brotherhood of Breath? The Balkan music that has inspired Beirut, given a mildly positive review elsewhere in the paper? Not to mention a whole range of music from parts of the globe NME journalists won't have heard about, never mind visited. What a bunch of total morons.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Fading Rainbow or Guiding Light?
I know the world and his wife are writing about Radiohead’s new ‘free’ album, but I’ve been encouraged to join in. Are Radiohead really undermining the music industry? A few days ago I would at least have argued that they were causing trouble. It’s less the fact that the album is being made available to download (this really is nothing new or particularly exciting) and more the timing of its release that is significant. The last ‘official’ word we heard on Radiohead’s latest was that it had now been put back for a 2008 release. Then came a series of bizarre red herrings before an official announcement that a new album would suddenly become available within ten days. This has caused a stir largely because it bypasses all the official channels, and it will be as damaging to the veritable institution of conventional music journalism as it will be to ‘the music industry’. There will be no advance speculation, previews, reviews or promotional interviews. Instead, with refreshing immediacy, the album will just appear, and everyday listeners will have the welcome opportunity of being the first to judge it.
This all ties in rather neatly with my analysis of Andrew Keen’s attack on Web 2.0 culture a few weeks ago. There is much talk now of the ‘death of the critic’. I still feel this is largely narrow-minded and hysterical – there will always be room for authoritative critical writing, it just may come from different places. Much of the initial reaction to ‘In Rainbows’ will now inevitably be generated from the Blogosphere. Naturally, I think this is rather exciting and healthy.
The other significant aspect of all this is the pricing system, which allows the consumer to decide how much the music is worth. Many have stated they will not pay in excess of £5 for it. Radiohead are no doubt able to do this because artists themselves receive only small proportion of revenue from physical CD sales (much of it is eaten by record label, distributors and vendors). By selling the record directly from a website, the band will receive 100% of the lucre. Even if everyone who downloads the album worldwide only spends £1 on it, that will probably still result in a healthy profit.
Particularly in light of further developments though, I don’t quite feel this is the death of the traditional music industry just yet. First and foremost, it’s worth noting that the band can only do all this by virtue of their massive level of success and acclaim, all achieved for them by the machinations (and budget) of EMI. Also, not only are the band releasing a boxed physical version that will ship in December for an extortionate £40 (‘Can you buy a good meal with that?’ questioned the group’s manager – of course you can!), but they have now announced that they will be signing a new major deal within a few days. Their manager has conceded that they still need the infrastructure and network of a major label to process and distribute physical product. How boring and conventional!
I suspect a lot of this may have to do with the realisation that Radiohead’s fanbase is broad, covering a wide range of ages and consumer habits. Teenage music fans (who would have been less than ten years old when ‘OK Computer’ was released!) may well embrace this means of distribution, but older listeners may well prefer the physical product. There are some consumers who are stuck firmly in the middle – I like maintaining libraries of CDs, vinyl, books and film, but I’m also rather excited by the new freedoms and flexibility offered by new technology.
There has long been a DIY, entrepreneurial spirit of independence in the music industry, but it has traditionally been a struggle to break even. This may well be changing, albeit more gradually than the loudest voices would suggest. A friend of mine genuinely thinks record labels as we understand them will soon be a thing of the past. I’m not sure what I think about this – but I certainly recognise a shift towards pockets of collectives building their own audiences (look at the Loop and F-IRE Collectives reigniting London’s tired jazz scene) and the increasing opportunities for artists to recoup their own investment, rather than forever being tied to major label debts.
This all ties in rather neatly with my analysis of Andrew Keen’s attack on Web 2.0 culture a few weeks ago. There is much talk now of the ‘death of the critic’. I still feel this is largely narrow-minded and hysterical – there will always be room for authoritative critical writing, it just may come from different places. Much of the initial reaction to ‘In Rainbows’ will now inevitably be generated from the Blogosphere. Naturally, I think this is rather exciting and healthy.
The other significant aspect of all this is the pricing system, which allows the consumer to decide how much the music is worth. Many have stated they will not pay in excess of £5 for it. Radiohead are no doubt able to do this because artists themselves receive only small proportion of revenue from physical CD sales (much of it is eaten by record label, distributors and vendors). By selling the record directly from a website, the band will receive 100% of the lucre. Even if everyone who downloads the album worldwide only spends £1 on it, that will probably still result in a healthy profit.
Particularly in light of further developments though, I don’t quite feel this is the death of the traditional music industry just yet. First and foremost, it’s worth noting that the band can only do all this by virtue of their massive level of success and acclaim, all achieved for them by the machinations (and budget) of EMI. Also, not only are the band releasing a boxed physical version that will ship in December for an extortionate £40 (‘Can you buy a good meal with that?’ questioned the group’s manager – of course you can!), but they have now announced that they will be signing a new major deal within a few days. Their manager has conceded that they still need the infrastructure and network of a major label to process and distribute physical product. How boring and conventional!
I suspect a lot of this may have to do with the realisation that Radiohead’s fanbase is broad, covering a wide range of ages and consumer habits. Teenage music fans (who would have been less than ten years old when ‘OK Computer’ was released!) may well embrace this means of distribution, but older listeners may well prefer the physical product. There are some consumers who are stuck firmly in the middle – I like maintaining libraries of CDs, vinyl, books and film, but I’m also rather excited by the new freedoms and flexibility offered by new technology.
There has long been a DIY, entrepreneurial spirit of independence in the music industry, but it has traditionally been a struggle to break even. This may well be changing, albeit more gradually than the loudest voices would suggest. A friend of mine genuinely thinks record labels as we understand them will soon be a thing of the past. I’m not sure what I think about this – but I certainly recognise a shift towards pockets of collectives building their own audiences (look at the Loop and F-IRE Collectives reigniting London’s tired jazz scene) and the increasing opportunities for artists to recoup their own investment, rather than forever being tied to major label debts.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Reports of the Death of Culture Have Been Greatly Exaggerated
NB: Personal View – not written in a work capacity.
Until next Monday morning, you can hear a rather excellent edition of the BBC World Service arts programme Culture Shock here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/programmes/culture_shock.shtml
I draw attention to this programme because of the presence of ‘Web guru’ Andrew Keen, who argues that various aspects of Web 2.0 (the Blogosphere, social networking websites, Wikipedia etc) are ‘killing our culture’ (whose culture specifically?). Obviously, as a keen blogger (no pun intended!), I have a clear interest to declare, but this doesn’t blind me to some of Keen’s more interesting statements.
He’s absolutely right to argue for personal responsibility online in the same way that we (should) expect it offline, and his argument that ‘we have to shape technology as much as it shapes us’ is powerful and important. Most of us are indeed aware that the internet is a very diverse space, awash with as much spin, opinion and disinformation as it is with useful resources. It’s also particularly vulnerable to extreme expressions, frequently without the backing of academic research. Wikipedia is an insightful example, as anyone who has seen some of the maliciously edited entries will no doubt testify.
He also had an interesting, if flawed, point to make about ‘anonymity’. His statement that ‘anonymity’ (neglecting the fact that complete anonymity on the web is next to impossible for anyone who isn’t a mastermind hi-tech criminal) ‘is a kind of theft’ is particularly audacious. By writing without declaring their true identities, bloggers and volunteer Wikipedia editors are taking without giving anything back, assuming kudos and expertise that they have not necessarily earned or proved. Well, perhaps, but an individual need not necessarily provide their name and address to demonstrate their credentials, even if only in the interests of personal security. Keen argues from this that ‘permissiveness about intellectual property is a vital social question.’ He doesn’t, however, discuss any practical questions about how we might restrict citizens’ contributions to the internet. He also doesn’t attempt to argue why the democratic ideal of freedom of speech should not also apply in the online realm.
It is also a massive logical leap between these positions and the alarmist notion that a ‘cult of the amateur’ is undermining expertise. I’m sorry to disappoint Keen, but I don’t believe that all professional journalists are corrupt rogues being bribed by PR companies or political interest groups. I do believe, however, that they have jobs to do, with specific audiences, business interests or shareholders in mind. This is not to say that any of this is inherently evil, just that it’s worth recognising the factors that may shape the work of professional journalists and experts. The word ‘amateur’ needn’t be negative. In my case, I hope it simply means that I’m not writing with a specific audience in mind; that I don’t have to write about a particular record simply because someone has been ‘kind’ enough to send me a free copy and that I’m relatively unconcerned about backing something that might turn out to flop. I can write about a wider range of music and film, focussing on aspects of art and culture for which I have genuine enthusiasm, thus aiming for a more positive approach.
Of course, I’m free to get things wrong without discipline or censure (and regular readers will hopefully recognise that I usually correct myself when I do) – but I’m also free to correct inaccuracies and errors in the professional media when I spot them. For a recent example, the NME (not a paper particularly respected for its journalists’ knowledge of jazz) reported the sad death of Joe Zawinul, but its news item was riddled with errors, not only claiming that Miroslav Vitous was a guitarist (in fact, he’s one of the greatest acoustic bassists in the world), but also claiming that he and Jaco Pastorius were members of Weather Report simultaneously – an interesting prospect that never actually happened (Vitous left in 1974, replaced by Alphonso Johnson, Pastorius didn’t join until 1976)! Why Keen thinks a professional news reporter for the NME is intrinsically more likely to have ‘expertise’ than me (an individual passionate about a massive range of music), I find a little baffling. Keen talks about individual amateur writers needing to be held to account, but one of our roles can be holding those professionals who fail to check their facts to an appropriate level of accountability themselves!
It’s also worth noting that the lines between ‘professional’ and ‘amateur’ may not be as clearly demarcated as Keen implies. A number of professional journalists also maintain blogs, where they have more space to exposit their thoughts (no word limits!) and more freedom to express individual views that veer away from a particular editorial line. For anyone interested in music, I would heartily recommend John Mulvey’s Wild Mercury Sound blog at the Uncut magazine website (which very successfully helps promote the magazine whilst challenging some of its limitations), Simon Reynolds’ blissblog or Marcello Carlin’s fascinating and inspired Church of Me as great examples of this.
Keen’s most contentious point is that blogs ‘collectively confuse popular opinion’. This is a wholly misguided statement in my view. Firstly, blogs are by their nature not a collective enterprise but rather the expression of individual views, some more carefully justified than others. In his response to Keen, trend tracker Tim Jackson argued that the phenomenon of blogging allowed individual voices to share some of the power traditionally held by employers, pressure groups, institutions and corporations. Can Keen really suggest that blogs are more influential in influencing public opinion than the tabloid press or broadcast media? This would assume that blogs are far more widely read than they actually are!
Rather flippantly, Keen states that ‘if culture is free then you get what you pay for and it’s usually crap.’ Keen has much of value to say, and his argument that the future of the web should depend more on expertise than hearsay is convincing. Yet his assumption that permissiveness always breeds decline and degradation is dangerous, and fails to credit individual internet users with enough intelligence to select which blogs to read and to corroborate whatever information they may find with other sources. It’s rather frustrating that, in the interview at least, Keen fails to differentiate between those bloggers with clear passion and enthusiasm for their subject, and those self-interested writers simply looking to promote themselves. I don’t feel that by writing and publishing this website, I’m somehow participating in a devaluation of culture, rigour and expertise. Instead I hope I’m helping to challenge commonly held assumptions about where expertise might lie, and perhaps even aid cultural discourse. It’s a fascinating debate, and it seems entirely appropriate that the BBC should give voice to someone emphasising rigour, fact-checking and expertise, important elements in the wider virtue of impartiality. However, the idea that ‘professional’ always equates with qualified and ‘amateur’ always means ignorant is itself misleading.
Until next Monday morning, you can hear a rather excellent edition of the BBC World Service arts programme Culture Shock here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/programmes/culture_shock.shtml
I draw attention to this programme because of the presence of ‘Web guru’ Andrew Keen, who argues that various aspects of Web 2.0 (the Blogosphere, social networking websites, Wikipedia etc) are ‘killing our culture’ (whose culture specifically?). Obviously, as a keen blogger (no pun intended!), I have a clear interest to declare, but this doesn’t blind me to some of Keen’s more interesting statements.
He’s absolutely right to argue for personal responsibility online in the same way that we (should) expect it offline, and his argument that ‘we have to shape technology as much as it shapes us’ is powerful and important. Most of us are indeed aware that the internet is a very diverse space, awash with as much spin, opinion and disinformation as it is with useful resources. It’s also particularly vulnerable to extreme expressions, frequently without the backing of academic research. Wikipedia is an insightful example, as anyone who has seen some of the maliciously edited entries will no doubt testify.
He also had an interesting, if flawed, point to make about ‘anonymity’. His statement that ‘anonymity’ (neglecting the fact that complete anonymity on the web is next to impossible for anyone who isn’t a mastermind hi-tech criminal) ‘is a kind of theft’ is particularly audacious. By writing without declaring their true identities, bloggers and volunteer Wikipedia editors are taking without giving anything back, assuming kudos and expertise that they have not necessarily earned or proved. Well, perhaps, but an individual need not necessarily provide their name and address to demonstrate their credentials, even if only in the interests of personal security. Keen argues from this that ‘permissiveness about intellectual property is a vital social question.’ He doesn’t, however, discuss any practical questions about how we might restrict citizens’ contributions to the internet. He also doesn’t attempt to argue why the democratic ideal of freedom of speech should not also apply in the online realm.
It is also a massive logical leap between these positions and the alarmist notion that a ‘cult of the amateur’ is undermining expertise. I’m sorry to disappoint Keen, but I don’t believe that all professional journalists are corrupt rogues being bribed by PR companies or political interest groups. I do believe, however, that they have jobs to do, with specific audiences, business interests or shareholders in mind. This is not to say that any of this is inherently evil, just that it’s worth recognising the factors that may shape the work of professional journalists and experts. The word ‘amateur’ needn’t be negative. In my case, I hope it simply means that I’m not writing with a specific audience in mind; that I don’t have to write about a particular record simply because someone has been ‘kind’ enough to send me a free copy and that I’m relatively unconcerned about backing something that might turn out to flop. I can write about a wider range of music and film, focussing on aspects of art and culture for which I have genuine enthusiasm, thus aiming for a more positive approach.
Of course, I’m free to get things wrong without discipline or censure (and regular readers will hopefully recognise that I usually correct myself when I do) – but I’m also free to correct inaccuracies and errors in the professional media when I spot them. For a recent example, the NME (not a paper particularly respected for its journalists’ knowledge of jazz) reported the sad death of Joe Zawinul, but its news item was riddled with errors, not only claiming that Miroslav Vitous was a guitarist (in fact, he’s one of the greatest acoustic bassists in the world), but also claiming that he and Jaco Pastorius were members of Weather Report simultaneously – an interesting prospect that never actually happened (Vitous left in 1974, replaced by Alphonso Johnson, Pastorius didn’t join until 1976)! Why Keen thinks a professional news reporter for the NME is intrinsically more likely to have ‘expertise’ than me (an individual passionate about a massive range of music), I find a little baffling. Keen talks about individual amateur writers needing to be held to account, but one of our roles can be holding those professionals who fail to check their facts to an appropriate level of accountability themselves!
It’s also worth noting that the lines between ‘professional’ and ‘amateur’ may not be as clearly demarcated as Keen implies. A number of professional journalists also maintain blogs, where they have more space to exposit their thoughts (no word limits!) and more freedom to express individual views that veer away from a particular editorial line. For anyone interested in music, I would heartily recommend John Mulvey’s Wild Mercury Sound blog at the Uncut magazine website (which very successfully helps promote the magazine whilst challenging some of its limitations), Simon Reynolds’ blissblog or Marcello Carlin’s fascinating and inspired Church of Me as great examples of this.
Keen’s most contentious point is that blogs ‘collectively confuse popular opinion’. This is a wholly misguided statement in my view. Firstly, blogs are by their nature not a collective enterprise but rather the expression of individual views, some more carefully justified than others. In his response to Keen, trend tracker Tim Jackson argued that the phenomenon of blogging allowed individual voices to share some of the power traditionally held by employers, pressure groups, institutions and corporations. Can Keen really suggest that blogs are more influential in influencing public opinion than the tabloid press or broadcast media? This would assume that blogs are far more widely read than they actually are!
Rather flippantly, Keen states that ‘if culture is free then you get what you pay for and it’s usually crap.’ Keen has much of value to say, and his argument that the future of the web should depend more on expertise than hearsay is convincing. Yet his assumption that permissiveness always breeds decline and degradation is dangerous, and fails to credit individual internet users with enough intelligence to select which blogs to read and to corroborate whatever information they may find with other sources. It’s rather frustrating that, in the interview at least, Keen fails to differentiate between those bloggers with clear passion and enthusiasm for their subject, and those self-interested writers simply looking to promote themselves. I don’t feel that by writing and publishing this website, I’m somehow participating in a devaluation of culture, rigour and expertise. Instead I hope I’m helping to challenge commonly held assumptions about where expertise might lie, and perhaps even aid cultural discourse. It’s a fascinating debate, and it seems entirely appropriate that the BBC should give voice to someone emphasising rigour, fact-checking and expertise, important elements in the wider virtue of impartiality. However, the idea that ‘professional’ always equates with qualified and ‘amateur’ always means ignorant is itself misleading.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Cinematic Art Did Not Die With Bergman And Antonioni
Auteurist craftsmanship still vies with empty posturing in an exciting contemporary landscape
In the aftermath of the deaths of Antonioni and Bergman, much predictable guff has been written about the end of the golden age of cinema, and the loss of the last great auteurs in particular. Geoffrey Macnab wrote an interesting piece in The Independent last week that proved refreshingly positive, despite its headline proclaiming the death of cinema as we know it. He cited a number of modern directors who could qualify as contemporary heirs to the spirit of Antonioni and Bergman. I do wonder, however, if he selected the right people.
Somewhat inevitably, Lars Von Trier and Lukas Moodysson were both included in MacNab’s list. I’m reliably informed that I once referred to Von Trier as a ‘ludicrous charlatan’ somewhere on these pages, a position I continue to maintain after seeing the utterly ghastly ‘Dogville’. Von Trier’s critique on America lacks value because he is ill-informed and schematic, and the film’s forced theatrical setting removes any possibility of cinematic alchemy. Of his previous films, ‘Dancer in the Dark’ is interesting chiefly due to the extraordinary presence of Bjork, whilst ‘The Idiots’ is the work of a provocative chancer with little knowledge of his subject matter. ‘Breaking the Waves’ is unremitting in its gloomy absurdity, whilst ‘Europa’ offers clear signs of real talent squandered by grandiose pretentions and obfuscation. Moodysson shares a complete disregard for satisfying audience expectation with Bergman (who was an enthusiast for Moodysson’s films himself), but this has not led him in consistently fulfilling directions so far. ‘Show Me Love’ and ‘Together’ were touching, witty and affecting films, whilst the grandiose ‘Lilya 4 Ever’ had a bleak but compelling vision at its core. ‘Hole In My Heart’ however, took him into the weird world of gonzo pornography, with startlingly unpleasant results. It’s certainly possible to make films containing real sex that capture something tangible, wild and beautiful, as I think John Cameron Mitchell recently did with ‘Shortbus’. Moodysson did not succeed though, instead producing something nasty, excessive and unrestrained.
I am an admirer of Francois Ozon’s work, but he seems more of a jack-of-all-trades than a filmmaker with a distinctive creative vision, perhaps the nearest comparison being Britain’s versatile Michael Winterbottom (also included in MacNab’s list). Again, his work has been somewhat inconsistent and almost all his films stretch the boundaries of credulity at key points (if anything, it’s this that has become his trademark). His last film, ‘Time To Leave’, was given rather short shrift by some critics here, although I think it’s the closest he’s come to capturing something emotionally affecting. A better example of a French filmmaker with clear vision might well be Laurent Cantet, interested as he is in very human stories surrounding work and its relationship to personal identity.
It’s also surely too early to include the likes of Andrea Arnold and Jonathan Glazer in the list (with just one and two features to their names respectively). Arnold’s ‘Red Road’ could not fulfil any acceptable definition of an auteurist work anyway, as a chiefly collaborative project with characters and script ideas pre-determined by Lars Von Trier’s production company. I still wonder whether Arnold might actually have been somewhat stifled by this approach, with the film refusing to state explicitly its position on ‘benevolent surveillance’ and performing something of a volte-face on its expertly crafted tension by its conclusion.
It’s certainly positive to read this kind of encouraging reassessment of the contemporary scene, even if its specific conclusions are questionable. These days I find it difficult to enjoy the writing of, say, David Thomson, who claims that cinema is in irreversible decline whilst somehow managing to omit Abbas Kiarostami, Wong Kar-Wai and Tsai Ming-Liang from the last edition of his otherwise magesterial Biographical Dictionary of Film. It’s hard to believe that someone can be so passionate about an art form, yet so sterile and conservative in their approach that they see nothing of value in what is new. Perhaps Thomson just no longer knows where to look for cinematic talent, obsessed as he is with the machinations of Hollywood and the American movie industry. I just don't see that it's worth writing about the likes of Woody Harrelson or Edward Norton, when there are many more interesting screen presences elsewhere.
Although he’s notable by his absence from Macnab’s list, many would no doubt cite Mexican Carlos Reygadas as a prime contender to inherit the auteurs’ mantle. Despite Jonathan Romney’s glowing report on the premier of his new film ‘Silent Light’ at Cannes, I remain steadfastly unconvinced. The acclaimed ‘Japon’ remains one of the worst films I have ever seen, and a prime example of a picture reliant on all the worst aspects of ‘art’ cinema culture. Heavily influenced by Tarkovsky, yet without either the technical mastery or spiritual wisdom to pull it off, the film is dominated by long shots of nothing in particular, with numerous 360 degree pans around its rugged landscape. Even worse, its central premise is at best ludicrous and at worst offensive. A depressed middle aged man takes root in a small Mexican rural community with the intention of ending his days there, befriending an old woman in the process. After two and a half hours following the man walking, painting, walking and painting, we’re eventually treated to his graphically filmed and thoroughly unpleasant sex with the old woman, seemingly in order that she then sacrifice her life to rejuvenate his. What pretentious nonsense, offering us no insight whatsoever into the nature and meaning of depression, death or sex, its three most obvious themes.
So let’s not assume that the current breed of auteurs all need to be young, fresh and cool, or either European or Western. The austere, challenging style of Bergman and Antonioni’s cinema may be best reflected in filmmakers from areas as diverse as Turkey, Taiwan, China, Iran, Russia and, yes, I will concede, even dear old Blighty.
The clearest heir to Bergman is currently unable to produce a film, despite recent renewed interest in his work. I’ve written about Terence Davies’ films in depth elsewhere in this blog, but it’s worth noting that Davies admits in the interview with Geoff Andrew that accompanies the BFI’s wonderful DVD of ‘Distant Voices, Still Lives’ that he compares his own films with Bergman’s and finds them wanting. Yet there is such clarity, compassion, depth of emotion and warmth in his film’s that it is clear that cinema is a genuine vocation and passion for Davies. His mastery of the slow, steady tracking shot and visceral close up also clearly betray the influence of Bergman, albeit filtered through his individual, very British vision. It is criminal that he has not been able to make a film, purely through lack of funding, since ‘The House of Mirth’ (his third masterpiece in my view, and one of the best examples of screen adaptations of classic literature).
Elsewhere in Europe, there are filmmakers at work who are every bit as significant as their illustrious predecessors. Michael Haneke has long been pursuing an extreme and uncompromising ideal of cinema, but has recently translated this into significant popular appeal with the unsettling and profoundly thrilling ‘Hidden’. Its immediate predecessor, ‘Time of The Wolf’, whilst less well distributed, was also a startling and challenging work, similar in its simple, unpretentious vision of an apocalyptic world to Cormac McCarthy’s brilliant novel ‘The Road’. What a shame he now feels the need to capitalise by remaking his deliciously savage, confrontational and brutal ‘Funny Games’ in America. There’s also the Italian Paolo Sorrentino, maker of ‘The Consequences of Love’ and ‘The Family Friend’, although many express the underlying suspicion that he emphasises style over substance (I’ve not seen the latter, but ‘The Consequences of Love’ struck me as exquisitely poised).
Turkey’s Nuri Bilge Ceylan has only made four films so far, but he is working at an unusually prolific rate by modern standards. ‘Uzak’ is simply wonderful, and completely unlike anything else in modern cinema. ‘Climates’ fortunately proved a worthy successor, demonstrating Ceylan’s talent for portraying emotional extremes, along with real attention to detail in both image and sound design.
Think also of Thailand’s Achiatpong Weerasethakul, who already has a season in his honour at the BFI Southbank in September. ‘Blissfully Yours’, with next to no dialogue or music, is a beautiful dream of a film, capturing a simple moment of languid romance in something close to real time. ‘Tropical Malady’, with its sudden tangential leap in the middle, has no respect whatsoever for plot or structure.
From Russia, Alexander Sokurov continues to be a challenging and unpredictable filmmaker of sometimes insane ambition. For me, ‘Russian Ark’ was a rather drab and pointless exercise, impressive for its technical achievement alone, and certainly not inspiring or interesting (the film consists of just one tracking shot through the Hermitage museum in St Petersburg). ‘Father and Son’ and ‘Moloch’ are bizarre, unforgiving and surreal films, certainly unpalatable to some, but refreshing in their refusal to adhere to conventions. His one unqualified success is ‘The Sun’, a deeply peculiar look at the collapse of Hirohito that is somehow both elusive and insightful. It’s too early to say whether Alexander Zvyagintsev might join this cardre of directors. The genuine brilliance of ‘The Return’ was somewhat overshadowed by the tragic death of one of its young actors, and initial reports suggest that its follow-up, ‘The Banishment’, is somewhat less assured. He shows real promise and originality though. Similarly, I suspect Germany’s bold and visceral Fatih Akin is waiting in the wings and also a soon-to-be-contender.
Taiwan has now established a great tradition of intelligent, perceptive and idiosyncratic filmmaking. I would certainly have namechecked Edward Yang as an underrated successor to the auteurist spirit were it not for his own tragic and unexpected death last month (in many ways a bigger loss than Bergman’s because he clearly had so much more left to offer). Hou Hsiou-Hsien remains an unstoppable creative force though, and with ‘Three Times’ he appeared to have produced a work remarkable for its lyrical qualities, ingenious use of triptych structure and palpable technical control. Less well known here is the elliptical and confounding Tsai Ming-Liang, for whom an NFT (sorry, BFI Southbank) retrospective is surely long overdue. Many walked out of the screening of ‘I Don’t Want To Sleep Alone’ (Tsai’s contribution to the New Crowned Hope project) that I attended, but I felt it was a visionary, powerful and ultimately moving work.
It’s also worth remembering that the likes of Wong Kar Wai, Bela Tarr, Abbas Kiarostami, Pedro Almodovar, Theo Angolopolous, Terrence Mallick and Gus Van Sant remain active filmmakers, all still capable of work that exposes some of the younger pretenders as frauds. All have doggedly pursued and developed their own personal vision. Van Sant looked for a spare, non-judgmental style first with the wonderful ‘My Own Private Idaho’ (although I wonder whether that film would have been quite so beautiful without the overwhelming iconic presence of River Phoenix) and then through his most recent trilogy, beginning with ‘Gerry’ and continuing with ‘Elephant’ and ‘Last Days’. His latest picture ‘Paranoid Park’, deploying the outrageously gifted cinematographer Christopher Doyle (himself playing a large part in the luminous beauty of many of Wong Kar-Wai’s films), appears to have divided opinion but I look forward to its UK release with keen anticipation. Van Sant has cited Bela Tarr as the primary influence on his recent work, and it would be hard to find a filmmaker less interested in market concerns than Tarr. Yet ‘Werckmeister Harmonies’, ‘Damnation’ and the colossal ‘Satantango’ (7 hours long!) are all remarkable, compelling and unique works. ‘The Man From London’ looks very much like his most accessible film to date, at a manageable length and with something approaching conventional narrative. Angolopolous works at his own glacial pace (much like the pacing of his films), but is in the middle of a new trilogy exploring Greek political and social history. Wong, on the other hand, appears to have transplanted himself to Hollywood, bizarrely casting Norah Jones as his latest lead, and possibly shooting himself in the foot in the process. Almodovar went badly wayward with the excessive and confusing ‘Bad Education’, but ‘Volver’ put him back on the right track and ‘Talk To Her’ remains one of the most daring and successful films released during my lifetime. Should any of these iconic artists live to the ripe old age of 89, I have little doubt that they will be in receipt of similar kinds of plaudits to those applied to Bergman and Antonioni.
Writing this, I ultimately wonder whether there was ever any real meaning in Cahiers du Cinema’s concept of auteurist theory at all. Any successful piece of art should contain the vivid stamp of its creator’s personal vision, yet this shouldn’t (and usually doesn’t) preclude the possibility of collaboration. The great auteur directors certainly reduced the emphasis on screenwriting and conventional plotting (no bad thing). However, they also relied heavily on the genius of their cinematographers (note the role played by Sven Nykvist in many of Bergman’s finest films) or their charismatic performers (both Godard and Truffaut relied on iconic presences, and Antonioni’s most famous works lived and breathed by virtue of the elegance and physical beauty of Monica Vitti and Alain Delon). Similarly, the most independent, bold voices in contemporary music often depend heavily on the input of their creative partners (Bjork would be a prime example of this). Sometimes the dogged pursuit of an individual vision can result in a creative cul-de-sac, sometimes it results in a string of unparalleled masterworks. It’s certainly a tradition that’s still alive and well though, in cinema as much as anything else. The deaths of towering figures can be dispiriting but what is new can still challenge, provoke and inspire. The new methods of digital production and distribution also promise to change the way film is consumed, possibly in beneficial ways. Don’t let the killjoys put you off.
In the aftermath of the deaths of Antonioni and Bergman, much predictable guff has been written about the end of the golden age of cinema, and the loss of the last great auteurs in particular. Geoffrey Macnab wrote an interesting piece in The Independent last week that proved refreshingly positive, despite its headline proclaiming the death of cinema as we know it. He cited a number of modern directors who could qualify as contemporary heirs to the spirit of Antonioni and Bergman. I do wonder, however, if he selected the right people.
Somewhat inevitably, Lars Von Trier and Lukas Moodysson were both included in MacNab’s list. I’m reliably informed that I once referred to Von Trier as a ‘ludicrous charlatan’ somewhere on these pages, a position I continue to maintain after seeing the utterly ghastly ‘Dogville’. Von Trier’s critique on America lacks value because he is ill-informed and schematic, and the film’s forced theatrical setting removes any possibility of cinematic alchemy. Of his previous films, ‘Dancer in the Dark’ is interesting chiefly due to the extraordinary presence of Bjork, whilst ‘The Idiots’ is the work of a provocative chancer with little knowledge of his subject matter. ‘Breaking the Waves’ is unremitting in its gloomy absurdity, whilst ‘Europa’ offers clear signs of real talent squandered by grandiose pretentions and obfuscation. Moodysson shares a complete disregard for satisfying audience expectation with Bergman (who was an enthusiast for Moodysson’s films himself), but this has not led him in consistently fulfilling directions so far. ‘Show Me Love’ and ‘Together’ were touching, witty and affecting films, whilst the grandiose ‘Lilya 4 Ever’ had a bleak but compelling vision at its core. ‘Hole In My Heart’ however, took him into the weird world of gonzo pornography, with startlingly unpleasant results. It’s certainly possible to make films containing real sex that capture something tangible, wild and beautiful, as I think John Cameron Mitchell recently did with ‘Shortbus’. Moodysson did not succeed though, instead producing something nasty, excessive and unrestrained.
I am an admirer of Francois Ozon’s work, but he seems more of a jack-of-all-trades than a filmmaker with a distinctive creative vision, perhaps the nearest comparison being Britain’s versatile Michael Winterbottom (also included in MacNab’s list). Again, his work has been somewhat inconsistent and almost all his films stretch the boundaries of credulity at key points (if anything, it’s this that has become his trademark). His last film, ‘Time To Leave’, was given rather short shrift by some critics here, although I think it’s the closest he’s come to capturing something emotionally affecting. A better example of a French filmmaker with clear vision might well be Laurent Cantet, interested as he is in very human stories surrounding work and its relationship to personal identity.
It’s also surely too early to include the likes of Andrea Arnold and Jonathan Glazer in the list (with just one and two features to their names respectively). Arnold’s ‘Red Road’ could not fulfil any acceptable definition of an auteurist work anyway, as a chiefly collaborative project with characters and script ideas pre-determined by Lars Von Trier’s production company. I still wonder whether Arnold might actually have been somewhat stifled by this approach, with the film refusing to state explicitly its position on ‘benevolent surveillance’ and performing something of a volte-face on its expertly crafted tension by its conclusion.
It’s certainly positive to read this kind of encouraging reassessment of the contemporary scene, even if its specific conclusions are questionable. These days I find it difficult to enjoy the writing of, say, David Thomson, who claims that cinema is in irreversible decline whilst somehow managing to omit Abbas Kiarostami, Wong Kar-Wai and Tsai Ming-Liang from the last edition of his otherwise magesterial Biographical Dictionary of Film. It’s hard to believe that someone can be so passionate about an art form, yet so sterile and conservative in their approach that they see nothing of value in what is new. Perhaps Thomson just no longer knows where to look for cinematic talent, obsessed as he is with the machinations of Hollywood and the American movie industry. I just don't see that it's worth writing about the likes of Woody Harrelson or Edward Norton, when there are many more interesting screen presences elsewhere.
Although he’s notable by his absence from Macnab’s list, many would no doubt cite Mexican Carlos Reygadas as a prime contender to inherit the auteurs’ mantle. Despite Jonathan Romney’s glowing report on the premier of his new film ‘Silent Light’ at Cannes, I remain steadfastly unconvinced. The acclaimed ‘Japon’ remains one of the worst films I have ever seen, and a prime example of a picture reliant on all the worst aspects of ‘art’ cinema culture. Heavily influenced by Tarkovsky, yet without either the technical mastery or spiritual wisdom to pull it off, the film is dominated by long shots of nothing in particular, with numerous 360 degree pans around its rugged landscape. Even worse, its central premise is at best ludicrous and at worst offensive. A depressed middle aged man takes root in a small Mexican rural community with the intention of ending his days there, befriending an old woman in the process. After two and a half hours following the man walking, painting, walking and painting, we’re eventually treated to his graphically filmed and thoroughly unpleasant sex with the old woman, seemingly in order that she then sacrifice her life to rejuvenate his. What pretentious nonsense, offering us no insight whatsoever into the nature and meaning of depression, death or sex, its three most obvious themes.
So let’s not assume that the current breed of auteurs all need to be young, fresh and cool, or either European or Western. The austere, challenging style of Bergman and Antonioni’s cinema may be best reflected in filmmakers from areas as diverse as Turkey, Taiwan, China, Iran, Russia and, yes, I will concede, even dear old Blighty.
The clearest heir to Bergman is currently unable to produce a film, despite recent renewed interest in his work. I’ve written about Terence Davies’ films in depth elsewhere in this blog, but it’s worth noting that Davies admits in the interview with Geoff Andrew that accompanies the BFI’s wonderful DVD of ‘Distant Voices, Still Lives’ that he compares his own films with Bergman’s and finds them wanting. Yet there is such clarity, compassion, depth of emotion and warmth in his film’s that it is clear that cinema is a genuine vocation and passion for Davies. His mastery of the slow, steady tracking shot and visceral close up also clearly betray the influence of Bergman, albeit filtered through his individual, very British vision. It is criminal that he has not been able to make a film, purely through lack of funding, since ‘The House of Mirth’ (his third masterpiece in my view, and one of the best examples of screen adaptations of classic literature).
Elsewhere in Europe, there are filmmakers at work who are every bit as significant as their illustrious predecessors. Michael Haneke has long been pursuing an extreme and uncompromising ideal of cinema, but has recently translated this into significant popular appeal with the unsettling and profoundly thrilling ‘Hidden’. Its immediate predecessor, ‘Time of The Wolf’, whilst less well distributed, was also a startling and challenging work, similar in its simple, unpretentious vision of an apocalyptic world to Cormac McCarthy’s brilliant novel ‘The Road’. What a shame he now feels the need to capitalise by remaking his deliciously savage, confrontational and brutal ‘Funny Games’ in America. There’s also the Italian Paolo Sorrentino, maker of ‘The Consequences of Love’ and ‘The Family Friend’, although many express the underlying suspicion that he emphasises style over substance (I’ve not seen the latter, but ‘The Consequences of Love’ struck me as exquisitely poised).
Turkey’s Nuri Bilge Ceylan has only made four films so far, but he is working at an unusually prolific rate by modern standards. ‘Uzak’ is simply wonderful, and completely unlike anything else in modern cinema. ‘Climates’ fortunately proved a worthy successor, demonstrating Ceylan’s talent for portraying emotional extremes, along with real attention to detail in both image and sound design.
Think also of Thailand’s Achiatpong Weerasethakul, who already has a season in his honour at the BFI Southbank in September. ‘Blissfully Yours’, with next to no dialogue or music, is a beautiful dream of a film, capturing a simple moment of languid romance in something close to real time. ‘Tropical Malady’, with its sudden tangential leap in the middle, has no respect whatsoever for plot or structure.
From Russia, Alexander Sokurov continues to be a challenging and unpredictable filmmaker of sometimes insane ambition. For me, ‘Russian Ark’ was a rather drab and pointless exercise, impressive for its technical achievement alone, and certainly not inspiring or interesting (the film consists of just one tracking shot through the Hermitage museum in St Petersburg). ‘Father and Son’ and ‘Moloch’ are bizarre, unforgiving and surreal films, certainly unpalatable to some, but refreshing in their refusal to adhere to conventions. His one unqualified success is ‘The Sun’, a deeply peculiar look at the collapse of Hirohito that is somehow both elusive and insightful. It’s too early to say whether Alexander Zvyagintsev might join this cardre of directors. The genuine brilliance of ‘The Return’ was somewhat overshadowed by the tragic death of one of its young actors, and initial reports suggest that its follow-up, ‘The Banishment’, is somewhat less assured. He shows real promise and originality though. Similarly, I suspect Germany’s bold and visceral Fatih Akin is waiting in the wings and also a soon-to-be-contender.
Taiwan has now established a great tradition of intelligent, perceptive and idiosyncratic filmmaking. I would certainly have namechecked Edward Yang as an underrated successor to the auteurist spirit were it not for his own tragic and unexpected death last month (in many ways a bigger loss than Bergman’s because he clearly had so much more left to offer). Hou Hsiou-Hsien remains an unstoppable creative force though, and with ‘Three Times’ he appeared to have produced a work remarkable for its lyrical qualities, ingenious use of triptych structure and palpable technical control. Less well known here is the elliptical and confounding Tsai Ming-Liang, for whom an NFT (sorry, BFI Southbank) retrospective is surely long overdue. Many walked out of the screening of ‘I Don’t Want To Sleep Alone’ (Tsai’s contribution to the New Crowned Hope project) that I attended, but I felt it was a visionary, powerful and ultimately moving work.
It’s also worth remembering that the likes of Wong Kar Wai, Bela Tarr, Abbas Kiarostami, Pedro Almodovar, Theo Angolopolous, Terrence Mallick and Gus Van Sant remain active filmmakers, all still capable of work that exposes some of the younger pretenders as frauds. All have doggedly pursued and developed their own personal vision. Van Sant looked for a spare, non-judgmental style first with the wonderful ‘My Own Private Idaho’ (although I wonder whether that film would have been quite so beautiful without the overwhelming iconic presence of River Phoenix) and then through his most recent trilogy, beginning with ‘Gerry’ and continuing with ‘Elephant’ and ‘Last Days’. His latest picture ‘Paranoid Park’, deploying the outrageously gifted cinematographer Christopher Doyle (himself playing a large part in the luminous beauty of many of Wong Kar-Wai’s films), appears to have divided opinion but I look forward to its UK release with keen anticipation. Van Sant has cited Bela Tarr as the primary influence on his recent work, and it would be hard to find a filmmaker less interested in market concerns than Tarr. Yet ‘Werckmeister Harmonies’, ‘Damnation’ and the colossal ‘Satantango’ (7 hours long!) are all remarkable, compelling and unique works. ‘The Man From London’ looks very much like his most accessible film to date, at a manageable length and with something approaching conventional narrative. Angolopolous works at his own glacial pace (much like the pacing of his films), but is in the middle of a new trilogy exploring Greek political and social history. Wong, on the other hand, appears to have transplanted himself to Hollywood, bizarrely casting Norah Jones as his latest lead, and possibly shooting himself in the foot in the process. Almodovar went badly wayward with the excessive and confusing ‘Bad Education’, but ‘Volver’ put him back on the right track and ‘Talk To Her’ remains one of the most daring and successful films released during my lifetime. Should any of these iconic artists live to the ripe old age of 89, I have little doubt that they will be in receipt of similar kinds of plaudits to those applied to Bergman and Antonioni.
Writing this, I ultimately wonder whether there was ever any real meaning in Cahiers du Cinema’s concept of auteurist theory at all. Any successful piece of art should contain the vivid stamp of its creator’s personal vision, yet this shouldn’t (and usually doesn’t) preclude the possibility of collaboration. The great auteur directors certainly reduced the emphasis on screenwriting and conventional plotting (no bad thing). However, they also relied heavily on the genius of their cinematographers (note the role played by Sven Nykvist in many of Bergman’s finest films) or their charismatic performers (both Godard and Truffaut relied on iconic presences, and Antonioni’s most famous works lived and breathed by virtue of the elegance and physical beauty of Monica Vitti and Alain Delon). Similarly, the most independent, bold voices in contemporary music often depend heavily on the input of their creative partners (Bjork would be a prime example of this). Sometimes the dogged pursuit of an individual vision can result in a creative cul-de-sac, sometimes it results in a string of unparalleled masterworks. It’s certainly a tradition that’s still alive and well though, in cinema as much as anything else. The deaths of towering figures can be dispiriting but what is new can still challenge, provoke and inspire. The new methods of digital production and distribution also promise to change the way film is consumed, possibly in beneficial ways. Don’t let the killjoys put you off.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
A Brief Rant
One of the monthly music magazines this month opens its review of the latest Bad Plus album by claiming: "For all those who thought that jazz was a group of dusty old men pootling through Night and Day in the pub snug, the success of this US trio playing jazz with indie-rock attitude will have been a gust of fresh air". Just who does think this exactly? Anyone reading this unfathomably patronising review might be forgiven for thinking that The Bad Plus were the first jazz group not to include standards in their repertoire! Naturally, the review proceeds to emphasise the group's goofy pop covers over their own originals, despite the increasing quality of the latter (as emphasised on this blog more than once). The originals, the writer states, 'will probably work best live'. Funny that, given that even The Bad Plus' jazz-with-rock-dynamics is essentially a live art form, based as it is on the qualities of group improvisation! All this kind of writing achieves is to present a group purely in terms of the marketing spin applied to them, rather than producing any kind of original critical thinking.
Even up to last month, this same publication had a dedicated jazz column in its reviews section but unless I'm going completely mad (or there are no jazz releases in the whole of August), this now appears to have been edited out. Why this complete lack of regard for the versatile tastes and informed views of a large part of its readership? Mercifully, the reviews of recent reissues from greats including Andrew Hill and Joe Harriott make for more comfortable reading, which makes for some recompense for the lack of critical judgment on the new.
Two of the main competing monthly publications are increasingly driving me insane with their constant battling to cover the same ground. On one hand, we have yet another Rolling Stones cover and on another, we have Weller picking his 'Modfather classics'... again! What is the interest in either of these features at this point in time? The Stones are of course on perpetual tour, but they hardly need to sell more tickets! One of the two publications has a thorough, lengthy overview of Prince's recording career, surely a more aposite cover feature given the controversy over the distribution of his new album, and his imminent 21-night stand in London? I appreciate that these magazines both have international audiences for whom they need to cater, and that the big figures in the rock canon sell copies, but it would be satisfying if we could go through a year without an obligatory Stones, Beatles or Dylan cover. It seems the only contemporary act currently worthy of a cover feature would be Arctic Monkeys. It is increasingly interesting to observe how Word magazine is occupying the clear gap in the market by giving more prominence to current acts (Amy Winehouse, Rufus Wainwright etc - none of them particularly avant garde, but at least offering some sort of variety).
Both major 'classic rock' monthlies have proved extremely valuable mouthpieces for a diverse range of artists both current and established (The Hold Steady, Rilo Kiley, Warren Zevon, Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, Sly and The Family Stone, Scott Walker etc), yet none of these artists have even come close to gracing the front cover (with the possible exception of Sly Stone who I think once featured several years ago). Surely it's time for a change?
Even up to last month, this same publication had a dedicated jazz column in its reviews section but unless I'm going completely mad (or there are no jazz releases in the whole of August), this now appears to have been edited out. Why this complete lack of regard for the versatile tastes and informed views of a large part of its readership? Mercifully, the reviews of recent reissues from greats including Andrew Hill and Joe Harriott make for more comfortable reading, which makes for some recompense for the lack of critical judgment on the new.
Two of the main competing monthly publications are increasingly driving me insane with their constant battling to cover the same ground. On one hand, we have yet another Rolling Stones cover and on another, we have Weller picking his 'Modfather classics'... again! What is the interest in either of these features at this point in time? The Stones are of course on perpetual tour, but they hardly need to sell more tickets! One of the two publications has a thorough, lengthy overview of Prince's recording career, surely a more aposite cover feature given the controversy over the distribution of his new album, and his imminent 21-night stand in London? I appreciate that these magazines both have international audiences for whom they need to cater, and that the big figures in the rock canon sell copies, but it would be satisfying if we could go through a year without an obligatory Stones, Beatles or Dylan cover. It seems the only contemporary act currently worthy of a cover feature would be Arctic Monkeys. It is increasingly interesting to observe how Word magazine is occupying the clear gap in the market by giving more prominence to current acts (Amy Winehouse, Rufus Wainwright etc - none of them particularly avant garde, but at least offering some sort of variety).
Both major 'classic rock' monthlies have proved extremely valuable mouthpieces for a diverse range of artists both current and established (The Hold Steady, Rilo Kiley, Warren Zevon, Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, Sly and The Family Stone, Scott Walker etc), yet none of these artists have even come close to gracing the front cover (with the possible exception of Sly Stone who I think once featured several years ago). Surely it's time for a change?
Monday, July 16, 2007
I'm One Step Ahead Of The Game...
Oh dear, the NME has come up with a truly ghastly list of possible Mercury nominations:
Candie Payne - 'I Wish I Could Have Loved You More'
Jarvis Cocker - 'Jarvis'
Jamie T - 'Panic Prevention'
Arctic Monkeys - 'Favourite Worst Nightmare'
Amy Winehouse - 'Back To Black'
Klaxons - 'Myths Of The Near Future'
Gruff Rhys - 'Candylion'
Razorlight - 'Razorlight'
Dizzee Rascal - 'Maths & English'
Editors - 'An End Has A Start'
The Cribs - 'Men's Needs, Women's Needs, Whatever'
Maps - 'We Can Create'
The Enemy - 'We'll Live And Die in These Towns'
The View - 'Hats Off To The Buskers'
The Twang - 'Love It When I Feel Like This'
Bat For Lashes - 'Fur And Gold'
Cherry Ghost - 'Thirst For Romance'
Kasabian - 'Empire'
Mika - 'Life In Cartoon Motion'
Patrick Wolf - 'The Magic Position'
The Chemical Brothers - 'We Are The Night'
Joss Stone - 'Introducing Joss Stone'
1990s - 'Cookies'
Kaiser Chiefs - 'Yours Truly Angry Mob'
Calvin Harris - 'I Created Disco'
Just Jack - 'Overtones'
Well, credit to them for remembering Patrick Wolf and Bat For Lashes, both of which had slipped my mind - but the rest of it? The Enemy, The View, The Twang, The Cribs - not only is there a common theme in the lack of imagination in their monikers, there's also a common thread in their complete lack of musical inspiration. British guitar music is currently in the worst state it's ever been in during my lifetime if this is the best we have to offer the world. I couldn't really resent a nomination for Jarvis, even if that album was nowhere near as good as I'd hoped. Pitiful copyists Editors can go home, as can the ludicrously overrated Joss Stone. Calvin Harris' embarrassing appropriation of electro-pop merely has novelty value - it can't possibly win a major prize, can it? I'm also wondering if the surprisingly well received Happy Mondays comeback album might sneak a nomination, even if the public don't seem to care for it.
Candie Payne - 'I Wish I Could Have Loved You More'
Jarvis Cocker - 'Jarvis'
Jamie T - 'Panic Prevention'
Arctic Monkeys - 'Favourite Worst Nightmare'
Amy Winehouse - 'Back To Black'
Klaxons - 'Myths Of The Near Future'
Gruff Rhys - 'Candylion'
Razorlight - 'Razorlight'
Dizzee Rascal - 'Maths & English'
Editors - 'An End Has A Start'
The Cribs - 'Men's Needs, Women's Needs, Whatever'
Maps - 'We Can Create'
The Enemy - 'We'll Live And Die in These Towns'
The View - 'Hats Off To The Buskers'
The Twang - 'Love It When I Feel Like This'
Bat For Lashes - 'Fur And Gold'
Cherry Ghost - 'Thirst For Romance'
Kasabian - 'Empire'
Mika - 'Life In Cartoon Motion'
Patrick Wolf - 'The Magic Position'
The Chemical Brothers - 'We Are The Night'
Joss Stone - 'Introducing Joss Stone'
1990s - 'Cookies'
Kaiser Chiefs - 'Yours Truly Angry Mob'
Calvin Harris - 'I Created Disco'
Just Jack - 'Overtones'
Well, credit to them for remembering Patrick Wolf and Bat For Lashes, both of which had slipped my mind - but the rest of it? The Enemy, The View, The Twang, The Cribs - not only is there a common theme in the lack of imagination in their monikers, there's also a common thread in their complete lack of musical inspiration. British guitar music is currently in the worst state it's ever been in during my lifetime if this is the best we have to offer the world. I couldn't really resent a nomination for Jarvis, even if that album was nowhere near as good as I'd hoped. Pitiful copyists Editors can go home, as can the ludicrously overrated Joss Stone. Calvin Harris' embarrassing appropriation of electro-pop merely has novelty value - it can't possibly win a major prize, can it? I'm also wondering if the surprisingly well received Happy Mondays comeback album might sneak a nomination, even if the public don't seem to care for it.
Monday, June 18, 2007
10 Years On And I'm Feeling Old
http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/music/2007/06/ten_years_of_ok_computer_and_w.html
On Monday 16th June 1997, not just one, but two albums were released which even at the time looked set to become established classics in the rock canon: Radiohead’s ‘OK Computer’, Spiritualized’s ‘Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space’. The Spiritualized album undoubtedly had the bigger impact on my life, influencing the music I was writing at the time rather too obviously and introducing me to a whole new range of sound (Sun Ra, Alice Coltrane etc). I still think the album sounds wonderful – and its mix of visceral intensity and naked emotion still chimes with me. Jason Pierce is hardly the best lyricist in the world, but here he found a way to capture aching sadness in simple sentiments, from the clever rhyme scheme of ‘I Think I’m In Love’ to the simple directness of ‘Broken Heart’ and ‘Cool Waves’. It’s a shame that Pierce has spent much of the subsequent decade trying to escape from it – either by building a bigger, more manipulative sound on ‘Let It Come Down’ (the first time his ambition outstripped his ideas) or by stripping it all back for the raw and mostly derivative ‘Amazing Grace’.
Whilst ‘Ladies and Gentlemen…’ sometimes appears in more outré greatest albums lists, it’s ‘OK Computer’ that has undoubtedly had the biggest cultural impact, for better or for worse. Many writers still highlight its focus on technology and urban alienation, but it seems bizarre that this still strikes people as groundbreaking. The writer of The Guardian piece I linked to above obviously hadn’t heard Kraftwerk’s ‘Computer World’ or Devo’s ‘Freedom Of Choice’.
A bigger problem is that Thom Yorke’s lyrics are mostly weak. His political attacks are vague and inarticulate, and I don’t think ‘OK Computer’ says anything particularly profound or clear about man’s relationship with technology. It offers no argument and certainly no solutions for its predominating feelings of alienation. Yorke actually fares much better as a lyricist when less detached and more vulnerable (the key tracks for me remain ‘Exit Music (For A Film)’ and ‘Let Down’). Overall, The Flaming Lips’ ‘The Soft Bulletin’ (1999) managed to address similar themes with more humanity, compassion and optimism.
Where OK Computer is interesting thematically is that, when placed in context, it is pretty much uniquely negative, and somewhat prescient. NuLabour had just won a landslide victory, and there was much vacuous and ill-judged celebrating, and plenty of odious schmoozing at number 10. Yorke’s frustration and rancour now looks rather shrewd, if only he could have expressed it more potently.
Musically, it still sounds expansive and impressive, but mostly in a rather formal and self-conscious way. The Pink Floyd comparisons are justified, as it’s stylistically very close to ‘Dark Side Of The Moon’ and sometimes similarly turgid. When they allowed themselves to experiment with rhythm (as on ‘Airbag’ and ‘Paranoid Android’) the results were compelling, but the plodding tempos of ‘Karma Police’ and ‘No Surprises’ offered little that was truly new, although the former’s coda prickles the nerves somewhat. I’m not sure it’s fair to say they paved the way for Muse, Keane and Coldplay as that kind of blandly anthemic stadium rock can probably be more fairly traced back to the more bombastic excesses of the eighties. Still, I’m rarely inclined to listen to ‘OK Computer’ these days. Much like ‘Sgt Pepper’s…’ (about which Marcello Carlin has written incisively at Church of Me http://www.cookham.blogspot.com/, so I won’t bother) and ‘Nevermind’, it seems one of those albums that will simply be accepted as a classic, without much sensible criticism ever being applied to it. There’s so much weight of high praise surrounding it that simply hearing it feels stifling and oppressive.
Since its release, Radiohead have proved themselves to be an intriguing and adventurous band, although often poor editors of their own work and unable to make decent decisions. Had they combined the best parts of ‘Kid A’ and ‘Amnesiac’ into one short album, they would have produced a clear masterpiece. This goes against the prevailing critical consensus, but ‘Hail To The Thief’ still strikes me as their most successful album to date, combining all their musical concerns into one consistently engaging whole, but people with opinions I respect disagree with me on this. It’s for the best of these works that I still feel the band are an easy target for those who dislike the idea of ambition and complexity in popular music, but ten years on, ‘OK Computer’ strikes me as having a reputation built on rather uncertain foundations.
As an afterthought, both Radiohead and Spiritualized have new albums scheduled for the Autumn and it will be interesting to see where they are at in 2007!
On Monday 16th June 1997, not just one, but two albums were released which even at the time looked set to become established classics in the rock canon: Radiohead’s ‘OK Computer’, Spiritualized’s ‘Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space’. The Spiritualized album undoubtedly had the bigger impact on my life, influencing the music I was writing at the time rather too obviously and introducing me to a whole new range of sound (Sun Ra, Alice Coltrane etc). I still think the album sounds wonderful – and its mix of visceral intensity and naked emotion still chimes with me. Jason Pierce is hardly the best lyricist in the world, but here he found a way to capture aching sadness in simple sentiments, from the clever rhyme scheme of ‘I Think I’m In Love’ to the simple directness of ‘Broken Heart’ and ‘Cool Waves’. It’s a shame that Pierce has spent much of the subsequent decade trying to escape from it – either by building a bigger, more manipulative sound on ‘Let It Come Down’ (the first time his ambition outstripped his ideas) or by stripping it all back for the raw and mostly derivative ‘Amazing Grace’.
Whilst ‘Ladies and Gentlemen…’ sometimes appears in more outré greatest albums lists, it’s ‘OK Computer’ that has undoubtedly had the biggest cultural impact, for better or for worse. Many writers still highlight its focus on technology and urban alienation, but it seems bizarre that this still strikes people as groundbreaking. The writer of The Guardian piece I linked to above obviously hadn’t heard Kraftwerk’s ‘Computer World’ or Devo’s ‘Freedom Of Choice’.
A bigger problem is that Thom Yorke’s lyrics are mostly weak. His political attacks are vague and inarticulate, and I don’t think ‘OK Computer’ says anything particularly profound or clear about man’s relationship with technology. It offers no argument and certainly no solutions for its predominating feelings of alienation. Yorke actually fares much better as a lyricist when less detached and more vulnerable (the key tracks for me remain ‘Exit Music (For A Film)’ and ‘Let Down’). Overall, The Flaming Lips’ ‘The Soft Bulletin’ (1999) managed to address similar themes with more humanity, compassion and optimism.
Where OK Computer is interesting thematically is that, when placed in context, it is pretty much uniquely negative, and somewhat prescient. NuLabour had just won a landslide victory, and there was much vacuous and ill-judged celebrating, and plenty of odious schmoozing at number 10. Yorke’s frustration and rancour now looks rather shrewd, if only he could have expressed it more potently.
Musically, it still sounds expansive and impressive, but mostly in a rather formal and self-conscious way. The Pink Floyd comparisons are justified, as it’s stylistically very close to ‘Dark Side Of The Moon’ and sometimes similarly turgid. When they allowed themselves to experiment with rhythm (as on ‘Airbag’ and ‘Paranoid Android’) the results were compelling, but the plodding tempos of ‘Karma Police’ and ‘No Surprises’ offered little that was truly new, although the former’s coda prickles the nerves somewhat. I’m not sure it’s fair to say they paved the way for Muse, Keane and Coldplay as that kind of blandly anthemic stadium rock can probably be more fairly traced back to the more bombastic excesses of the eighties. Still, I’m rarely inclined to listen to ‘OK Computer’ these days. Much like ‘Sgt Pepper’s…’ (about which Marcello Carlin has written incisively at Church of Me http://www.cookham.blogspot.com/, so I won’t bother) and ‘Nevermind’, it seems one of those albums that will simply be accepted as a classic, without much sensible criticism ever being applied to it. There’s so much weight of high praise surrounding it that simply hearing it feels stifling and oppressive.
Since its release, Radiohead have proved themselves to be an intriguing and adventurous band, although often poor editors of their own work and unable to make decent decisions. Had they combined the best parts of ‘Kid A’ and ‘Amnesiac’ into one short album, they would have produced a clear masterpiece. This goes against the prevailing critical consensus, but ‘Hail To The Thief’ still strikes me as their most successful album to date, combining all their musical concerns into one consistently engaging whole, but people with opinions I respect disagree with me on this. It’s for the best of these works that I still feel the band are an easy target for those who dislike the idea of ambition and complexity in popular music, but ten years on, ‘OK Computer’ strikes me as having a reputation built on rather uncertain foundations.
As an afterthought, both Radiohead and Spiritualized have new albums scheduled for the Autumn and it will be interesting to see where they are at in 2007!
Friday, June 08, 2007
Video Killed The Radio Star....
…Well it didn’t exactly come to pass as Trevor Horn predicted, but now I wonder whether it might be happening more insidiously and indirectly. This week, XFM launched Xu, supposedly an innovative concept handing total control over its daytime programming to its listeners, from 10am through to 4pm. In the first instance, this is total bunkum. Listeners will only be able to select tracks from the very restrictive XFM music library used to create the original playlists, plus, depending on the policy’s success rate, a lot of the music will probably be pre-programmed by music editors anyway. It’s also hardly a novel concept, having been used by various music TV channels for a number of years. By subsuming this concept into their radio networks, are GCap finally fulfilling the Buggles prophecy?
Call me old fashioned – but I think there’s a critical difference between music TV and radio. Music TV, at its most successful, is as much based on visuals as audio – featuring largely expensive promos made by big teams and competent directors. This is partially where the energy and vitality comes from. Radio, lacking this visual identity, requires some form of personality and comment to provide it with identity.
One suggestion has been that XFM owners GCap are simply trying to save money on DJs salaries, which is of course plausible given the company’s commercial imperative. In light of the success of Radio 2 in particular (which has invested heavily in unpredictable choices of on-air talent in recent years), this does seem like a baffling way to cut costs though. Others have suggested that, fearful of technological development and the massive success of online video and social networking, XFM are attempting to create a ‘multimedia experience’ (which sounds horrible) by tying the daytime schedule directly to online content.
I’m all for exciting cross-platform developments. I love on demand functionality and I’m a great admirer of any broadcaster with a strong web presence. Yet there’s a massive problem when corporate bigwigs see ‘interactivity’ as purely synonymous with ‘User Generated Content’. The technologies involved develop so rapidly that a new fad will very quickly emerge and render all this obsolete. Not only this, but those simply looking for a music shuffle feature would surely prefer the more personal iPod, or will turn to more genuinely interactive online services such as last.fm (just last week the subject of a $142million takeover by CBS). Interaction between a radio station and its audience works chiefly through its presenters – it’s a tried and tested formula, and it works! As a result, the big innovations in Radio recently seem to have been through the choice of estoteric presenters – Russell Howard on 6Music, Bob Dylan’s Theme Time Radio Hour, amongst other examples.
On a personal level, I’ve found XFM completely disastrous since the Capital takeover. Only John Kennedy’s XPosure show has been consistently worth a listen, but the station’s policy of forcing complete album playbacks into this slot has destroyed the format of the show too frequently. Elsewhere, the station provides no alternative at all, with wall-to-wall Keaneplay Razor Patrol of the likes you can hear on virtually any other station. Radio 2 is genuinely less conventional in its selection of music. It feels like an uncertain time for cutting edge radio at the moment, with Radio 3 cutting back its contemporary output with less jazz and the loss of the excellent Mixing It and now this, a gamble that I sincerely hope fails to pay dividends. The real problem that technology poses to the broadcasting industry is that anyone can now do it themselves (albeit by entering a legal minefield) – those of us who value diversity, and listening that challenges as well as entertains, may well desert traditional broadcasters altogether and find our musical tips elsewhere.
NB: Personal Opinion, not written in a work capacity.
Call me old fashioned – but I think there’s a critical difference between music TV and radio. Music TV, at its most successful, is as much based on visuals as audio – featuring largely expensive promos made by big teams and competent directors. This is partially where the energy and vitality comes from. Radio, lacking this visual identity, requires some form of personality and comment to provide it with identity.
One suggestion has been that XFM owners GCap are simply trying to save money on DJs salaries, which is of course plausible given the company’s commercial imperative. In light of the success of Radio 2 in particular (which has invested heavily in unpredictable choices of on-air talent in recent years), this does seem like a baffling way to cut costs though. Others have suggested that, fearful of technological development and the massive success of online video and social networking, XFM are attempting to create a ‘multimedia experience’ (which sounds horrible) by tying the daytime schedule directly to online content.
I’m all for exciting cross-platform developments. I love on demand functionality and I’m a great admirer of any broadcaster with a strong web presence. Yet there’s a massive problem when corporate bigwigs see ‘interactivity’ as purely synonymous with ‘User Generated Content’. The technologies involved develop so rapidly that a new fad will very quickly emerge and render all this obsolete. Not only this, but those simply looking for a music shuffle feature would surely prefer the more personal iPod, or will turn to more genuinely interactive online services such as last.fm (just last week the subject of a $142million takeover by CBS). Interaction between a radio station and its audience works chiefly through its presenters – it’s a tried and tested formula, and it works! As a result, the big innovations in Radio recently seem to have been through the choice of estoteric presenters – Russell Howard on 6Music, Bob Dylan’s Theme Time Radio Hour, amongst other examples.
On a personal level, I’ve found XFM completely disastrous since the Capital takeover. Only John Kennedy’s XPosure show has been consistently worth a listen, but the station’s policy of forcing complete album playbacks into this slot has destroyed the format of the show too frequently. Elsewhere, the station provides no alternative at all, with wall-to-wall Keaneplay Razor Patrol of the likes you can hear on virtually any other station. Radio 2 is genuinely less conventional in its selection of music. It feels like an uncertain time for cutting edge radio at the moment, with Radio 3 cutting back its contemporary output with less jazz and the loss of the excellent Mixing It and now this, a gamble that I sincerely hope fails to pay dividends. The real problem that technology poses to the broadcasting industry is that anyone can now do it themselves (albeit by entering a legal minefield) – those of us who value diversity, and listening that challenges as well as entertains, may well desert traditional broadcasters altogether and find our musical tips elsewhere.
NB: Personal Opinion, not written in a work capacity.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Interactivity!
I spend a lot of time on this blog criticising professional music journalists, unpicking their casual assumptions and questioning the dubious agendas of some of the publications they write for. I'm an amateur writer with no editors or shareholders to answer to, so I can afford to do that. It also means that I really should take more time to identify real quality in music writing when I come across it. Right now, I'm particularly inspired by those professional writers who have embraced the opportunities of blogging rather than joining the Paul Morley school of unreasonable suspicion (Simon Reynolds, Marcello Carlin, the folks over at Plan B). There are lots of flaws in Uncut magazine - but John Mulvey's Wild Mercury Sound new music blog over on their website is brilliant. It's ventures like this which allow writers to build a closer relationship with their readers, and find out what they really think, rather than what the marketing brains behind the publications believe they think. This post on Elliott Smith, written in response to a reader's comments, is particularly fascinating:
http://www.uncut.co.uk/blog/index.php?blog=6&p=91&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1#more91
I completely agree with the poster Sam about the melodic and harmonic intricacy of Smith's songs, and that his songwriting was a great deal more ambitious than most writers have suggested. The posthumous 'From A Basement on The Hill' collection for example contains a wealth of ambitious writing and dexterous guitar playing that went largely unnoticed as people focussed, understandably, on Smith's troubled state of mind.
The debate on criticism which these comments have prompted is of wider significance, though. Whilst I am a musician (albeit one whose grasp of musical theory is probably more spurious than it ought to be - I will concede I write and play more from instinct or feeling than any conceptual process), I would certainly never argue that non-musicians are not qualified to express considered opinions about music. Indeed, a non-musician writer of real distinction such as Mulvey can avoid being enraptured with technical and theoretical concerns, and really grasp the cultural and emotional significance of music. It does require an open mind, however - and Mulvey undoubtedly has this , as the range of his posts, so far encompassing Rufus Wainwright, Sly and The Family Stone and post-rockers Battles, confortably demonstrates. There's sometimes a tendency in rock critics to eulogise primitive angst, or the rejection of virtuosity. Neither virtuosity nor untutored fury are virtues in themselves - it's much more a matter of how contrasting styles and techniques can be deployed to create an impact.
I try and keep an open mind about music too. A good friend once asked me, slightly incredulously, how a three minute pop song could possibly move me as much as a great symphony. Quite easily in fact, especially if it finds some universal truth with which I can identify. Whilst there's a lot about the techniques of composition that I don't quite understand yet, I can recognise that there are common elements between the best popular music and serious composition, and that's why I'm quite happy to go and see any form of music performed live, performance is often where the true magic really shows.
One forthcoming album that seems to show no respect for classification whatsover is David Torn's Prezens, forthcoming on ECM (thanks to DJ Martian for a heads-up on this one). You can hear a couple of tracks on MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/prezens
It seems as much inspired by metal and post-rock as by free improvisation, jazz-rock and electronica. This is clearly a challenging record that occupies its own unique space. I'm looking forward to hearing it in full, not least because it features world-class drummer Tom Rainey, and the outstanding Craig Taborn on keyboards (also a mainstay of Chris Potter's Underground).
I'm hoping that John might give us some thoughts on new albums from Bjork, Panda Bear, The F*cking Champs, etc...
http://www.uncut.co.uk/blog/index.php?blog=6&p=91&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1#more91
I completely agree with the poster Sam about the melodic and harmonic intricacy of Smith's songs, and that his songwriting was a great deal more ambitious than most writers have suggested. The posthumous 'From A Basement on The Hill' collection for example contains a wealth of ambitious writing and dexterous guitar playing that went largely unnoticed as people focussed, understandably, on Smith's troubled state of mind.
The debate on criticism which these comments have prompted is of wider significance, though. Whilst I am a musician (albeit one whose grasp of musical theory is probably more spurious than it ought to be - I will concede I write and play more from instinct or feeling than any conceptual process), I would certainly never argue that non-musicians are not qualified to express considered opinions about music. Indeed, a non-musician writer of real distinction such as Mulvey can avoid being enraptured with technical and theoretical concerns, and really grasp the cultural and emotional significance of music. It does require an open mind, however - and Mulvey undoubtedly has this , as the range of his posts, so far encompassing Rufus Wainwright, Sly and The Family Stone and post-rockers Battles, confortably demonstrates. There's sometimes a tendency in rock critics to eulogise primitive angst, or the rejection of virtuosity. Neither virtuosity nor untutored fury are virtues in themselves - it's much more a matter of how contrasting styles and techniques can be deployed to create an impact.
I try and keep an open mind about music too. A good friend once asked me, slightly incredulously, how a three minute pop song could possibly move me as much as a great symphony. Quite easily in fact, especially if it finds some universal truth with which I can identify. Whilst there's a lot about the techniques of composition that I don't quite understand yet, I can recognise that there are common elements between the best popular music and serious composition, and that's why I'm quite happy to go and see any form of music performed live, performance is often where the true magic really shows.
One forthcoming album that seems to show no respect for classification whatsover is David Torn's Prezens, forthcoming on ECM (thanks to DJ Martian for a heads-up on this one). You can hear a couple of tracks on MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/prezens
It seems as much inspired by metal and post-rock as by free improvisation, jazz-rock and electronica. This is clearly a challenging record that occupies its own unique space. I'm looking forward to hearing it in full, not least because it features world-class drummer Tom Rainey, and the outstanding Craig Taborn on keyboards (also a mainstay of Chris Potter's Underground).
I'm hoping that John might give us some thoughts on new albums from Bjork, Panda Bear, The F*cking Champs, etc...
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
The Vanguard vs. The Old Guard
Why is it that veteran music journalists so often have to resort to petty dismissals of us poor, insignificant bloggers? It's one of Petridish's hot topics in The Guardian, and increasingly the likes of Krissi Murison in the NME and even Paul Morley have been chipping in (how ignorant and inexperienced we all are! It's like we're all spotty virgins or something...). Is it perhaps because they feel genuinely threatened by the fact that internet writers are helping to establish acts, and that traditional print journalism may be under threat? If so, they are merely contributing to their own downfall. Here's an interesting piece from Paul Morley:
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/omm/story/0,,2012799,00.html
Reading this, it's difficult to comprehend how Morley was ever at the forefront of a Zeitgeist. He now writes, and frequently speaks, in sentences clunkier and more verbose even than mine, and with a marked lack of critical acumen. There's no selective judgement on display in this piece - yes the likes of Franz Ferdinand, Arctic Monkeys et al have been overrated, but exactly who in any journalistic sphere has been portraying Adem as some sort of revolutionary master? He's a lovely chap who writes good songs, and there's nothing wrong with that. And if Morley was disappointed when he heard Spiritualized's 'Feel So Sad' (assuming he was still aware at that point), or even the Spiritualized of 'Ladies and Gentlemen...', I'm a bit baffled as to why, ditto the thrill that comes from the real passion and enthusiasm for music evident in the work of LCD Soundsystem's James Murphy.
Let's not forget that all the really over-hyped, mostly reactionary bands of the moment (The Kooks, Arctic Monkeys, Babyshambles, The (sinking) Feeling, The Hours et al) have all been zealously praised by print journos. Take a closer look at the acts I've found via the blogosphere - Arcade Fire, Burial, Benoit Pioulard, Subtle, Broken Social Scene, Beirut, Susanna and The Magical Orchestra, Bat For Lashes - the difference in judgement and breadth of interest immediately becomes apparent.
Marcello Carlin (an experienced and authoritative writer both in print and online) writes an interesting repost over at Church Of Me (http://www.cookham.blogspot.com), which is all the more fascinating because his subsequent piece on Judee Sill's 'Heart Food' is both passionate and sceptical, as all the best music writing should be.
On a completely different topic, it's of course not just music where amateur writing can prove illuminating. My old school friend Alex Stein maintains a very interesting blog called False Dichotomies http://www.falsedichotomies.com , with some carefully balanced explorations of Israel/Palestine in particular. I don't elect to write about politics much here, but I do try and keep informed! It strikes me that unhelpful schematic presentations of issues rarely help us understand them. My current bugbear is 'the conflict between national security and civil liberties'. The two aren't mutually exclusive - we can and should have both!
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/omm/story/0,,2012799,00.html
Reading this, it's difficult to comprehend how Morley was ever at the forefront of a Zeitgeist. He now writes, and frequently speaks, in sentences clunkier and more verbose even than mine, and with a marked lack of critical acumen. There's no selective judgement on display in this piece - yes the likes of Franz Ferdinand, Arctic Monkeys et al have been overrated, but exactly who in any journalistic sphere has been portraying Adem as some sort of revolutionary master? He's a lovely chap who writes good songs, and there's nothing wrong with that. And if Morley was disappointed when he heard Spiritualized's 'Feel So Sad' (assuming he was still aware at that point), or even the Spiritualized of 'Ladies and Gentlemen...', I'm a bit baffled as to why, ditto the thrill that comes from the real passion and enthusiasm for music evident in the work of LCD Soundsystem's James Murphy.
Let's not forget that all the really over-hyped, mostly reactionary bands of the moment (The Kooks, Arctic Monkeys, Babyshambles, The (sinking) Feeling, The Hours et al) have all been zealously praised by print journos. Take a closer look at the acts I've found via the blogosphere - Arcade Fire, Burial, Benoit Pioulard, Subtle, Broken Social Scene, Beirut, Susanna and The Magical Orchestra, Bat For Lashes - the difference in judgement and breadth of interest immediately becomes apparent.
Marcello Carlin (an experienced and authoritative writer both in print and online) writes an interesting repost over at Church Of Me (http://www.cookham.blogspot.com), which is all the more fascinating because his subsequent piece on Judee Sill's 'Heart Food' is both passionate and sceptical, as all the best music writing should be.
On a completely different topic, it's of course not just music where amateur writing can prove illuminating. My old school friend Alex Stein maintains a very interesting blog called False Dichotomies http://www.falsedichotomies.com , with some carefully balanced explorations of Israel/Palestine in particular. I don't elect to write about politics much here, but I do try and keep informed! It strikes me that unhelpful schematic presentations of issues rarely help us understand them. My current bugbear is 'the conflict between national security and civil liberties'. The two aren't mutually exclusive - we can and should have both!
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
John Peel 1939 - 2004
An immense loss to both broadcasting and music - John Peel was a true legend whose passion for seeking out new music meant that he was able to survive through numerous management changes and radical programming reforms at Radio 1. I haven't listened to his show as much as I should in recent years - yet I still find it hard to believe that I will never hear another festive fifty or Peel session. Quite simply, there has never been another broadcaster of his dedication, enthusiasm and talent. A number of crucial bands may never have achieved critical and commercial success were it not for the early exposure he offered them. He never patronised his audience, fostered diversity (something increasingly rare in today's formatted radio world) and was a consummately relaxed and skilful presenter. RIP...
An immense loss to both broadcasting and music - John Peel was a true legend whose passion for seeking out new music meant that he was able to survive through numerous management changes and radical programming reforms at Radio 1. I haven't listened to his show as much as I should in recent years - yet I still find it hard to believe that I will never hear another festive fifty or Peel session. Quite simply, there has never been another broadcaster of his dedication, enthusiasm and talent. A number of crucial bands may never have achieved critical and commercial success were it not for the early exposure he offered them. He never patronised his audience, fostered diversity (something increasingly rare in today's formatted radio world) and was a consummately relaxed and skilful presenter. RIP...
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