Great Beginnings

This is going to be tough to write, just because there are so many good songs to think about. You'll see what I mean. I hope that after reading it, you'll share your opinions with me.

We all love different things about different songs. But while talking recently about song beginnings, I tried to think of the bands who have written songs that when you hear the first few notes, you're like YESSSS. I realized that there really isn't another band I can think of that has as many awesome song beginnings as AC/DC. The beginnings of many of their songs are just so classic; they're instantly recognizable and immediately set a certain tone. Of course there are a bunch of bands with songs with great beginnings, but AC/DC sticks out to me because it seems like they've accumulated such a large number of them. Plus, when you hear the beginning of an AC/DC song, there's really no question who the band is; they are great at writing song intros that are not only catchy, but also communicate the philosophy and attitude of the band. As I said, feel free to share your feelings about this.

AC/DC is well-known for their bare bones, old-school hard rock sound, as well as the voices of the band's two singers, Bon Scott (1974-1980) and Brian Johnson (1980-present). But central to the band's unique sound are the power chords and guitar riffs generated by guitarists Malcolm and Angus Young. The guitars are most often what people remember and love about the band, especially songs that feature great guitar riffs before the lyrics start (which is most of them).

For me, it's really tough to beat the beginning of AC/DC's For Those About to Rock. When I hear those first tentative notes, I immediately get a sense of anticipation; it just feels like something big is about to happen. It makes sense that this song is played at sporting events before the start of overtime; it's effective. It gets you amped up and excited. I find it fascinating and amazing how music is able to achieve such strong reactions in people. Anyway, I'm just saying, the beginning of this song is killer. The worst is when you find it playing on the radio but you realize you missed the beginning of the song (because it's the best!). There are no words for that feeling. Well, there are, but they're jumbled strings of curse words. In fact, I'd bet brand new curse words have been created by people who just missed the beginning of that song on the radio. Like this one: muthasshitcockhat. What? If you don't like it, you'll have to make up your own.

AC/DC has a catalog of songs with great beginnings. I mean, I feel like most people would recognize the beginnings to Thunderstruck, You Shook Me All Night Long, Back in Black, and Highway to Hell. And they're just great songs with a great rock n' roll feel.

OK, here's your assignment (I bet you didn't realize I'd give you homework, eh? You're probably thinking Thanks a lot for tricking me into reading your stupid blog and then AMBUSHING ME WITH A FREAKING HOMEWORK ASSIGNMENT, JACKWAD). Anyway, here's the deal: I'd love to know which songs you think have the best beginnings. Here are a few songs I (and a couple people I asked) came up with after only thinking about it for a few minutes. I know there are tons more out there, so let me know which songs you think have great-beginning status.

Rush - The Spirit of Radio
Led Zeppelin - When the Levee Breaks (love the drums)
The Rolling Stones - Gimme Shelter
U2 - Where the Streets Have No Name
Guns N' Roses - Sweet Child o' Mine (A friend of mine argued that Welcome to the Jungle should also be included, but I totally disagree, and therefore it is not on this list. Except for just then when I mentioned it.)
Jimi Hendrix - Voodoo Child
Dropkick Murphys - I'm Shipping Up to Boston
The Who - Baba O'Riley

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Mumford and Sons?

Yes, I'm going to write briefly about Mumford and Sons, a band from England who I am not overly familiar with. I've heard several of their songs, and I've liked them just fine, but I haven't heard anything that particularly struck a chord with me (pun intended, sorry). But one of the nice things about having a Tivo is that I can look at upcoming music performances on tv and set them to record, even if they're performances by bands of which I'm not an especially big fan. That way I can sort of "skim" through them and see if anything catches my ear. You never know what you'll find that you weren't expecting. So recently I fast-forwarded my way through the Mumford and Sons episode of Unplugged, and I came across their cover of a song called England by a band called The National. And I loved it. It's an extremely simple song, but it caught my attention and I've had it in my head for days. Give it a listen and see what you think. Also, see if you agree that lead singer Marcus Mumford would be doing us all a favor if he shaved that ridiculous mustache. I swear it's like he's waggling it at me on purpose.

Get More: Mumford and Sons Unplugged, Mumford and Sons, Music Videos, Live Performances

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The Spark - Music Series, part two

Some of my earliest memories are of lying in my room at night, and hearing the sounds of my father playing the piano in the living room. I fell in love with music from listening to him play. It never occurred to me that it wasn’t necessarily typical to have someone playing an instrument in the house all the time. I guess I figured everybody had a family member who played often. But I was lucky in that regard. My dad had a brown Kimball baby grand, and I loved that piano and all the memories it created for me. If my father hadn’t constantly provided me exposure to his playing, I know I still would’ve come to love music, but it probably wouldn’t have happened as early as it did. My dad would sit down at the piano nearly every night to practice, and he played a variety of music. I heard countless church hymns (he was the pianist at our church), some classical pieces, and a bit of ragtime also. My dad loves George Gershwin music, and I’m glad for that because when he played Gershwin, I was exposed to very different rhythms than with the classical or religious pieces.

When my parents began sending me to piano lessons, I learned that while I was very interested and excited to learn how to play, I wasn’t too enthusiastic about learning to read music. All I wanted to do was play the piano, and at first all my piano teacher wanted me to do was read music out of a book and do sight-reading exercises. Talk about all work and no play. I wanted to hear myself playing songs, but that takes a little more time to achieve than I had originally assumed. I figured I would have one lesson and be able to play anything I wanted, perfectly. I was, as they say, ready to jam. Surprisingly, that’s not what happened. Learning to read music wasn’t especially difficult, but it took more patience than I typically kept on hand at the time, so my parents had to begin forcing me to do some serious foraging within myself to find an extra stash of patience and focus I wasn’t even sure existed (turns out it was down near my toes, and I didn’t have nearly as much stashed away as my parents claimed I did). I have the sneaking suspicion that I’m not the only child in history who has had this problem. In fact, as time went on, I tried to find ways to avoid reading music. I knew I was supposed to learn a song by reading the music, but if I could hear it played once or twice, I could usually figure it out from there without having to do the dirty work of sight-reading. It was just easier to play by ear. Granted, I could read music, but when I was still learning, it took longer to figure out the notes from the page than from hearing someone else play them. Essentially I was being lazy, and looking for the easy way out.

It was also in my early years that I developed a distinct fondness for music that sounded melancholy. Pieces written in a minor key were favorites because they created a feeling of sorrow that I identified with. They inspired me and made me love music even more. I began to comprehend the power of music, and the magic it makes possible. Those somber pieces made me feel understood; they created an atmosphere that represented how I felt, and they expressed emotions I wouldn’t fully understand for years. I could relate to the music in a way I was unable to relate to another person. I absorbed it as a means of communication and expression. I feel like music taught me that every emotion I possess is allowed to be acknowledged and expressed. As I got older, I felt that it was alright to convey the sadness I carried most of the time; it was a safe and even healthy outlet for the emotions that are difficult to put into words and share with other people. With music, whether listening, playing, or composing, my ever-present depression is allowed to be recognized; I am not expected or told to cheer up, and I am not made to apologize for it.

Music is a precious art that can be at once empowering and humbling, and it is a gift to create as well as to hear. Obviously some people are more musically talented than others, but I think some people also have an innate attraction to music, where music is not just something that drones on in the background, but is a priceless and integral component of life. It nurtures the soul in a way that little else can, and it allows for a stunning expression of life's emotions, from the worst sorrow to the greatest joy. I plan to write about my experiences with composing, playing, and listening to music, and I am hopeful that I’ll be able to convey the love and respect I have for it.

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The Attempt - Music Series, part one

Recently I was chatting about music with my friend Kris, and he encouraged me to do something I have always assumed I was incapable of doing. I had just downloaded a new album on iTunes, and he asked if it was any good. I had only listened to a few songs in the car, so I said I would have to give it an attentive listen that evening to get a better idea of what I thought of it. He asked, "What is an 'attentive' listen?" As I prepared to answer his question, I experienced the familiar difficulty I have when trying to explain my relationship with music. It's like asking me to solve a trigonometry problem; I get that deer-in-headlights thing going on, where my eyes open slightly larger than normal and my mouth drops open just a little, and then I stare into space just long enough to make anyone in the vicinity wonder if I've lost my lone marble. I have never, ever been able to adequately describe the role music plays in my life, how it really makes me feel, or why it is so important to me. I always come away feeling like a frustrated child wanting to stomp my feet and whine, "Wait, you don't really understand!" It sort of makes me feel like I must be the only person who feels this strongly about music. Obviously that's not true; there are a lot of people in the world who are passionate about music, and it would be arrogant of me to think that I am the only one who feels the way I do. But, man, talk about a difficult thing to describe. Even if I had better communication skills, I think I would still have trouble with this one. I mean, how do you describe that kind of magic?

I decided to try and write about music. This will be a true challenge for me, but I’m actually looking forward to it. Instead of attempting to fit everything into one post, I’m going to write a series; I’ll be able to break things into narrower topics and I’ll also have the chance to add or expand on things in later posts. Writing this series of posts and trying to express my passion for music is what Kris encouraged me to do. "That is what I want to read about," he said. I had never felt so much support for something like this, something that is very important and personal to me. So I decided to give it a shot, and if I fail to do the explanation justice, that's okay; at least I can say I tried. I’m willing to crash and burn here. But if I do, I’m blaming it all on Kris.

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Favorite Cover Song

Normally I’m not a big fan of cover songs; there are few I actually like. But it just so happens that my favorite cover song is one that I really love. It’s not like I dubbed it my favorite just because it’s the least crappy of the options. I really do love this cover song (did I already mention that?). Not surprisingly, the original and cover artists are two of my favorite bands, Led Zeppelin and TOOL (yes, I intend to use all caps when referencing TOOL, they’re that awesome).

I fell in love with Led Zeppelin when I was 11 years old. There was no courting period; it wasn't necessary - it was truly love at first listen. I was totally hooked, and have been ever since. During middle school and high school I always had trouble falling asleep at night, so I would lie in bed and listen to music through headphones for hours in the dark. It was during those nightly rendezvous that I became enamored with the many different compositions by the rock n’ roll heroes of a past generation. I listened to the songs so many times that I memorized every note and nuance, and even learned exactly where the slightest background studio noises occurred in the recordings.

I fell in love with TOOL just a couple years later. TOOL’s sound is described most often as progressive or industrial rock. I loved the band’s sound, loved their use of interesting time signatures, and loved Danny Carey’s unique and masterful drumming. But mostly I fell head over heels (instantly) for Maynard James Keenan’s voice. It bursts with emotion, and when I hear him sing I am impressed and inspired by his ability to so successfully communicate sentiment.

When I found out that TOOL had recorded a cover version of Led Zeppelin’s No Quarter, I was a little nervous (check out Led Zeppelin's recorded version and TOOL's recorded cover version). I loved both bands and the song so much that I was afraid I’d be hugely disappointed if the cover version didn’t meet my expectations. I would have been really bummed if one of my favorite bands had totally screwed up their cover of one of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs. Not that the world would have stopped turning, but I would have been disillusioned by a No Quarter cover that was less than impressive, especially when I admire TOOL’s ability and have such high expectations of them.

Led Zeppelin and TOOL have decidedly different styles and sounds. But it’s amazing how TOOL was able to accurately capture the timbre and mood of the song while also imprinting it with their unique style. The piano and keyboards that aid in creating a psychedelic feel in the original are replaced by acoustic and electric guitars in the cover. At the beginning of TOOL’s version, effects are used on both the guitar and Keenan’s voice to mimic the synthesized instrumentation of the original version. The vital role of dynamics is beautifully reflected in the cover. TOOL also made some lyrical changes that I believe are in keeping with their comparably more intense style. Robert Plant’s lyrics, “Close the door, put out the light” are changed by Keenan to “Lock the door, kill the light.” Yet the cover version shows great reverence to the original, respecting its beauty and scope. I liked TOOL’s version the first time I heard it, but it took multiple listens before I was able to fully appreciate just how good it is.

I think TOOL’s version of this Led Zeppelin classic is the best-executed cover I have ever heard. I strongly recommend that you listen to both versions the way I listened to the original when I was 11 – in the dark, through headphones.

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A Favorite

My friend and co-worker, Mike, suggested I write about my favorite songs. Like maybe a Top Ten list or something. (This suggestion has me under the sneaking suspicion that he is secretly reporting for Rolling Stone magazine.) There are so many songs I love for various reasons. I have favorite songs to listen to when I’m feeling particularly irritated, favorite songs for when I’m depressed, happy, relaxed, or mildly homicidal. I have favorite acoustic guitar songs, favorite piano songs, favorite metal songs, favorite orchestral songs…Choosing just one as an overall favorite doesn’t seem right (or possible) to me. Also, I decided to write about songs one at a time (and in no particular order), because I don’t have the time to get a Top Ten list together right now. If you would have preferred the list, just fake it by waiting until I’ve posted a few and then read them all at once.

My favorite Beatles song is Eleanor Rigby, which was released on the Revolver album in 1966. The arrangement is simple, but absolutely stunning. The first time I heard this song as a kid, I fell in love with it immediately. When I was a bit older, it helped to cement my desire to learn to play the cello (which I eventually did). People are usually surprised when I say that Eleanor Rigby is my favorite Beatles song, I guess just because there are so many good ones to choose from.

About the arrangement: Eleanor Rigby does not have a standard pop backing; none of the Beatles played instruments on it, though John Lennon and George Harrison did contribute harmony and backing vocals. Instead, McCartney used a string octet of studio musicians, composed of four violins, two cellos, and two violas all performing a score composed by producer George Martin. For the most part, the instruments "double up"—that is, they serve as two string quartets with two instruments playing each part in the quartet. Microphones were placed close to the instruments to produce a more vivid and raw sound. George Martin asked the musicians if they could play without vibrato and recorded two versions, one with and one without, the latter of which was used. (Copyright - 1966 EMI Records Ltd.)

Unfortunately I am not able to post a proper sound file for this song; I had to link to a YouTube video, sorry (believe it or not, it's the least annoying one).

Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear
No one comes near
Look at him working. Darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there
What does he care?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people
Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
No one was saved

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

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100 Greatest Singers of All Time

Rolling Stone has concocted another "all time greatest" list. Yes, another one. As a magazine, Rolling Stone clearly believes that all things music-related must be neatly tucked into groups, and that debating over the "greatest" of everything is not only a worthwhile endeavor, but a noble one. If there was a contest for magazines that have generated an absurd number of "all time" lists, Rolling Stone would totally take home that trophy. I imagine it would be magnificently displayed at the RS offices, and a small plaque with elegant engraving would title it: #1 Greatest Trophy of All Time.

The most recent list is RS's 100 Greatest Singers of All Time. I think it’s fun to look through these lists, but it always ends the same way, with me shaking my head in disbelief because so-and-so was left off or someone was placed way too high or low in the ranking. The thing is, you can't really take these lists too seriously. One reason is because of the way they title them. I know, it's Rolling Stone, so you should expect subject matter from a particular range of pop culture (say, the last 50 years or so). It’s just that they can't resist calling these lists the greatest of all time. And "all time" covers, well, a whole lot of time, not just the last 50 years.

Another reason these lists don’t hold much water with me is because the term “greatest” is much too general; a good percentage of the Greatest Singers list would instantly be out of contention if technical terms were specified. Truly great singers aren’t always the most popular, and often the popular singers really aren’t that great at all. They are talented entertainers, dancers, etc. But people don’t consider them “great” because of their excellent pitch, tone, or timbre. Anyone with some formal music training would be quick to make that distinction. The people on the list aren’t terrible singers, and there’s a reason so many people love them. (How many people can honestly say they think Bob Dylan is a fantastic singer? Honestly. Think about it.) Maybe they sing with such conviction or passion that they can bring us to tears. A valuable skill, but it shouldn’t be confused with technical ability.

While I may sound like a stickler for accurate list-labeling here, I do understand the intent of the list. For most people, a great singer is someone who makes you feel what they are singing about. You feel it so far down in your gut you don't know whether to scream, smile, or cry. Or maybe a certain singer represents something to people, is a symbol of a movement, a time in history, or a time in one's life. I'll never forget the first time I heard a recording of Billie Holiday singing "Strange Fruit." Her gritty, gravelly voice quietly demanded my attention, and the lyrics saddened me to tears.

How does a magazine decide who makes the cut? Basically, by sending out ballots to a bunch of people (musicians, producers, journalists, and music execs, mostly). Here’s how RS explains how the list was created: “Each voter was asked to list his or her 20 favorite vocalists from the rock era, in order of their importance. Those ballots were recorded and weighted according to methodology developed by the accounting firm of Ernst & Young, which then tabulated and verified the results for Rolling Stone.”

I am not typically a reader of Rolling Stone, actually. I am writing this in response to a request from my good friend Bob, who said I should write a blog that would share my thoughts about the list. (Thanks, Bob, for caring about my opinion in the first place.) My favorite thing about Rolling Stone? The covers. I think RS has had some of the most timeless and striking cover art (you can browse the covers online). It was fun to look at the covers from when I was in middle school and high school. It made me feel nostalgic. And old. But it was still fun.

Anyway, about the list. There is very little about the list that surprises me. All the usual suspects are there. Aretha Franklin at number one is no shock. She's a talented singer who is highly regarded in the industry and by fans. Directly behind Aretha is Ray Charles, who is followed by Elvis Presley. Again, I figured they'd be there, lurking somewhere near the top. It was great to see an artist like Jeff Buckley in the top fifty. Christina Aguilera is No. 58, and while I can't stand the way she chooses to sing (I think she and Mariah Carey are under the impression that great singing = the length and frequency of vocal runs crammed into a given song), and I'm not a fan of the type of music she sings, she absolutely has one of the strongest voices on the list. She has a tendency to sing through her nose quite a bit, which gets on my nerves, but she has a talent that is undeniable. Really.

There are a number of singers I think should have been listed, but were omitted from the list altogether; at first, I was shocked that Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Marian Anderson, Billie Holiday, and Mahalia Jackson weren't included, but I'm pretty sure that's because they were pre-rock-era artists. But here are a few of the singers I think should have been listed: Bruce Dickinson, Pat Benatar, Maynard James Keenan (yes, I’m serious), Tori Amos…and…(gasp!) Celine Dion. I don't even like Celine Dion, but as far as singing talent goes, she has tons. Considering the high praise she has received in the past from fans and peers, I’m quite surprised she didn’t make an appearance anywhere on the list. There are other singers I love who were not selected for the list. But until Rolling Stone decides that I'm the best barometer for great talent, I guess I'll have to suck it up. The list is what it is, for whatever it's worth. I leave you with this: Celine Dion isn’t listed, but Roy Orbison is number 13?

A few other "All Time" lists:

Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Songs of All Time (winner: "Like a Rolling Stone" by Bob Dylan)

Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time (winner: "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" by The Beatles, who by the way had 4 of the top 10 albums)

Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Guitar Songs of All Time (winner: "Johnny B. Goode" by Chuck Berry)

Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time (winner: Jimi Hendrix)

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What's In a Name?

Why did I name my blog Beauty in the Dissonance? I don't really have a good reason. Who cares what my blog is called, anyway? Just for the record, though, here's the explanation. It's a nod to TOOL, one of my favorite bands (the line finding beauty in the dissonance is from the song Schism). But it also describes something that I've always found difficult to put into words. Recently I've had numerous discussions about music with a friend of mine, and I've been trying to describe to him that when it comes to music, I feel there needs to be an element of darkness as well as light; I think that the contrast itself provides more drama and beauty. Whether it's a stunning melody tempered by obnoxious lyrics or a subtle integration of inharmonious tones, I think that by including the "ugly" with the beautiful, the entire piece achieves a level it would otherwise not reach.

According to Frank Zappa:

"Any composition (or improvisation) which remains consistent and 'regular' throughout is, for me, equivalent to watching a movie with only 'good guys' in it, or eating cottage cheese."

Now, I realize that not everyone would consider Frank Zappa an artist to take cues from. But basically he's saying that using only consonant sounds does not necessarily make a piece of music enjoyable for the listener (and may cause an inexplicable craving for cottage cheese). There needs to be a careful balance between consonance and dissonance that creates interest in the piece and gives it substance and a story.

I don't think that every piece of music needs to include only what is pleasing to the ear. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of things I would not volunteer to listen to. I don't think that the obnoxious fire alarm in my building at work would make a nice dissonant component to a song. But to put it simply, there are many instances where, when done in an interesting way, dissonance does enhance a song's beauty and impact.

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