I know, it’s been awhile, right?
Whenever I need to paint I start mixing music together (rather than paint). If only to lubricate the muse.
I have an art opening in less than two weeks and the mojo matrix first needs tweaking and seducing to welcome me with open arms. That might read like it’s a complex process, but really it’s fun. And sort of a ritual/tradition for me.
In art shows from my past, and even in the acknowledgments for my first book, I listed music playlists in the artist’s statement. It only seemed fair. Art begets art.
The title for this 51-minute Cosmix is lifted from Beck‘s song Motorcade, it seems fitting given the tenor of our times.
These toys are all lifeless
The armor’s worn off
The shadow of a shadow
Is the ghost of a bomb
In a desert alone
A helicopter searchlight
Is searching for no-one
We’re all pushing up the tin can mountain top
The smokestack clouds with glory attached
This mix would have been out at the top of the year, but the flu laid me out in January.
Featured are artists and cuts I listened to the most in 2013. Not just new songs but albums I returned to and rediscovered, like Van Morrison‘s Veedon Fleece, which now, head-scratchingly, I wonder how I didn’t hold with more reverence back in the day. I think I might have been too young to align with its mix of melancholy, mysticism and its discursive style of meandering and drifting for naught except for the pleasure of drifting. As Gertrude Stein once said: “It takes a heap of loafing to write a book.”
Or, take The Stan Tracey Quartet‘s take on the poet Dylan Thomas‘ line Starless and Bible Black. Your nervous system has no proper cross-referencing for a melody and mood like this. You’re suspended in a bardo of somber beauty. Amazing!
That track leads into a track from an album I’ve crowned my favorite of the year: Goldfrapp‘s Tales of Us. Do yourself a favor and secure a copy. The LP’s overall ethos is elegant and gorgeous; each track a complete cinematic story. Critic Andy Gill described it best: “The delicate guitar and piano figures and the sombre languor of strings behind Alison Goldfrapp‘s vocals create something akin to a cross between the dreamlike mythopoeism of old folk tales and the lush cinematic arrangements of Michel Legrand.” Yes! That nails it.
So from some agitated Bach to the minimal quiet of Nils Frahm‘s solo piano to the finest dance track of the year: Le Sims‘ Grind. It’s a runaway train. I’ve mashed picks with disregard to rhythm and beats per minute. Which is also how I listened to all of this throughout last year.
A new year, a (sort of) new month – a mid-week — and some new music.
I’d wanted to cull some ‘best of moments’ from 2013 (and perhaps I still might) but in the interim I’ve uploaded this third, and final mix, from the In A Landscape series.
Lots of mid-range movement going on here, with some classics from Eric Satie, Yo-Yo Ma, Boards of Canada and a rare track from Annie Lennox, a haunting a cappella version of an old Eurythmics track that appeared on Dave Stewart‘s soundtrack for the 1989 film Lily Was Here. It’s quite amazing.
Enjoy, and please, as always — share your comments below.
The exact moment of this year’s Winter Solstice occurs early morning tomorrow, here in Washington, though many of us will celebrate tonight.
I created this mix several years ago — a collection of hymns, chants, Medieval carols and songs — a music compendium to mirror and celebrate this sacred moment in the Earth’s time cycle.
The Solstice, the night of the longest night, also marks the return of a slowly growing luminosity, as Winter begins in the Northern Hemisphere and radiance gains in prominence.
Light has always symbolized awareness and consciousness, as well as life-giving, creative properties. And in a very real sense we are each bodies of light, with the Sun Absolute as both our source and sustainment. And that link is not simply symbolic, it is literal.
For many astrologers the Winter Solstice is a demarcation that defines the start of the New Year. How we experience this evening (and tomorrow morning) provides an essential hint as to the theme or signature of the year ahead. Both universally and personally.
I will take a more sporadic approach to posting on Astro Inquiry in the coming week, as travel and gatherings with friends will shorten my time on the computer.
Solstice Blessings to each of you!
If you would like to hear more details pertaining to the Solstice, from an astrological perspective, I highly recommend my friend and colleague, Jessica Murray‘s recent radio interview (from December 19) where she shares a slew of insights into this magical moment — and the upcoming year, 2014.
The art work featured on this mix is by the talented Krista Hout. Ms. Hout spent her formative years in the forests of British Columbia, where she trained in fine arts and classical animation. Her paintings explore the relevance of archetypes in folklore, using inspiration from storybook illustration, folk art, animation and vintage kitsch. Krista’s work has been shown at galleries throughout the United States. You can explore more and order prints directly from her website Kristahout.com.
Part of the extreme sport-like difficulty of being a music mixer is attempting to blend contradictory styles of music. The segues must remain germane to the integrity of the entire playlist. It’s no easy feat, and often, like painting a painting it’s the accidents that turn out to be best parts of the canvas.
On this second volume of yuletide tunes (even more so than on Volume 1), I attempted to do just that: Have happy accidents. So you’ll hear Big Band blasters dovetail into country songs that shift into solemn carols, and classical instrumentals giving way to polychromatic pop numbers.
Some words about some of my choices:
The Carpenters‘ Merry Christmas Darling is, to me, the last really stellar Christmas song to make its way into the honorable holiday music canon. The title alone calls back to the 40s or 50s; and Richard’s arrangement makes it work in ways that other contemporary Christmas tunes can’t duplicate. And anything with Karen’s vocal is transformed instantly into something golden. Instead of featuring a cut from the last truly great modern Christmas album, 1963’s A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector, I chose this song.
The most beautiful non-secular Christmas song is O Holy Night, from the French Cantique de Noël. And its history and transformation over time is fascinating. The elegance of the melody married to such compelling lyrics: Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices! O night divine, the night when Christ was Borne — makes for something astonishing. We’ve heard the song so many times — usually delivered with blaring glory notes and glissandi — that the song’s impact has dulled. But country singer Martina McBride, with her open, clear tone and natural annunciation brings everything that’s mystical about the song into high relief. This is the finest version I’ve experienced. Read more