Columns A Bumpy Ride
"Tokyo" - The Books
By David Clifford Turner
The Books is a duo of musicians with a chaotic sense of sound. Their music involves one guitarist, one cellist, and a whole mess of voice samples. Songs like “Motherless Bastard” continue a single sample across the entire song, and only create an ambiance to it, never letting the instrumentals dominate the speech. It forms a vivid conversational scene in one’s head, and is more like an audio excerpt from a film than a standalone music track.
The majority of their songs, however, focus on the music itself, and alter the instruments with their equipment in unexpected ways. “Tokyo” from their album The Lemon of Pink, is this week’s song. In it, they play and stop the cello track mid-note, giving it an oddly rushed and electronic quality. The guitar repetitions at the beginning of the song are also accentuated in a surreal manner, and though I can’t pinpoint exactly what was altered in the instrument, it hit a resonant frequency with my ear and wormed its way inside my eardrums. Listening to that section gives one a light-headed feeling; it’s funny thinking that music and sound-waves can alter one’s physical state. That’s why I like this song so dearly, though. It alters your consciousness altogether, and sucks you in. Some songs demand your undivided attention, but the Books take it whether you like it or not. While listening to this song, imagine sitting on a train, head against the window, and think about the landscape shifting as the music becomes more electronic and more acoustic. And try to imagine the Japanese girl thanking you for the flight; I bet she’s a cutie.
Enjoy the song: here.
“Water from the Same Source” – Rachel’s
By David Clifford Turner
For those of you unfamiliar with the band Rachel’s, I feel sort of happy for you. It hurts to listen to them, because there is an overwhelming suffering that pervades their music. It’s not as though it hits you over the head with sorrow the way HelloGoodbye would attempt; it’s much more subtle than that. Through instrumentals and spoken word, they develop an atmosphere that envelopes the listener into their own tiny, cathartic world. There’s something universal about their music that evokes a memory in anyone that hears them. Of course, this memory is varied from person to person, but it usually remains melancholy, bittersweet.
I’d love to hear what memories are summoned in you.
In this particular song, the violin seems to sigh in the background, complimenting the speech the piano is giving. The minimalistic approach makes the drums extremely powerful and almost violent when they beat their way in halfway through the song. As the simple piano/violin progression increases in intensity, think of them as weathered voices, singing more and more gravely as the reality of the lyrics sink in. You almost see the fingers punching the keys, and the violin bow stabbing the air.
But I’m rambling, and overanalyzing, and all of that stuff. Go here, listen to it, and melt.
A pleasure to meetcha
Hey, all, I’m one of the new cats in the Blog of Sound family. I’m not going to be all preachy and say that music is my life – it is just a chunk of it. I’m here to share with you songs, new and old, from all walks of music, with a focus on the heightened emotions they impart. This’ll be pretty schizophrenic, so don’t expect to necessarily “enjoy” all of these beats. Not unlike Requiem for a Dream, these won’t always be catchy or fun, but they will certainly be beautiful in their own way. Some of these songs have made sober people cry, some have inspired people to get out and do something with their lives, so be careful when listening to them under a drug influence; they can make you feel more than you might want to at points. From sad to savage, I'll try to be as comprehensive of the human emotional landscape as I can with this list. Without further ado, I present to you the first entry in my weekly article. It’s going to be a bumpy ride, friends.
