Album Reviews

Spoken word or sung poetry? There’s plenty of both in the British Isles: the rolling, sprawling narratives of Kai Tempest; the angular Sinead O’Brien, smiling in Irish; the arch delivery of Dry Cleaning; the startling machine-gun rapping of Little Simz; a new collection on Decca by Cerys Mathews, the first in a series of “poem song” albums, pairing poets with musicians from Hidden Orchestra. From the defiant 70’s reggae of Linton Kwesi Johnson, to the many decades of the late Mark E. Smith, to the current dystopian punk barrage of Sleaford Mods, the British Isles has an abundance of musical poetry on record, joined now by Londoner Arlo Parks.

The music of Foo Fighters is never a far cry from the band’s influences. That’s true with their 2021 release, Medicine At Midnight: an album that throws into a melting pot their rock tendencies, disco roots, and funk fascinations. If this sounds interesting to you, that’s because it is.

The history of recorded music is as long as it is terrific. While that may sound wonderful, I can assure you there are strings attached.

Today’s mainstream artists face an originality problem, one which many musicians feel no desire to solve— though there are some current exceptions including Jacob Collier, Kendrick Lamar, and Vulfpeck. Few lack the passion required to create something that is truly their own, but among those who do is 22 year-old Canadian Shawn Mendes—one of five under-the-age-of-18 artists in Billboard album chart history to debut at #1. On Wonder, his latest album, Mendes chases that very passion.

Lana Del Rey is living proof that what’s old will come around, and what’s new isn’t always better. AnalogPlanet readers and writers alike are quite familiar with this sentiment. Nothing beats the magic of the vinyl record. As most music consumers jump between formats, I often ask myself, “Why move past something that works so well?” Lana Del Rey, an enthusiast of all things vintage, asks the same question, only with music.

I remember a time when a friend would visit weekly, and we’d gather around a laptop and sing songs. While our musical tastes were usually in synch, there would always be a tune or two that made one of us frown. Consequently, I ended up learning a lot about his musical tastes, as I’m sure he did of mine. One night, after singing “All My Loving” for the umpteenth time (this is when my Beatles obsession began), he queued a song from Weezer— a band I had never before heard of. I can’t recall the name of the song, but I politely smiled through it, readying my dismissal of the group.

“Peace and love” is the defining mantra of Ringo Starr, one of two surviving Beatles. It’s sappy, cheesy, and agonizingly overused, but in all seriousness, it’s a message the world desperately needs. Though there’s a lot to hate, love is, in my mind, the true meaning of life. Keep in mind, I say this having learned it from others, namely the musicians I admire. Ringo, now 80 years old (he really doesn’t look it), is one of many who gather conclusions from a long, rich life. It’s here, on this EP, where the superstar shares his wisdom.

In May of 1913, just one year before the start of the first World War, Igor Stravinsky premiered his third ballet with the Ballets Russes in Paris: Le Sacre du printemps (The Rite of Spring). The premiere would go down in history for a number of reasons, primarily due to the unruly Parisian audience that descended into what could be referred to as a riot. What was so scandalous about the Rite? Stravinsky, along with choreographer Vaslav Nijinsky, wanted to evoke a picture of Russia from the distant, pagan past. A story of an ancient pagan rite where a young maiden would be chosen to dance herself to death to appease the ancestors and secure a bountiful harvest. The music, while stylistically not a huge departure from Stravinsky’s two previous and successful Parisian ballets, was dissonant, brutal, and rhythmically disorienting. Likewise, Nijinsky’s choreography was rigid, and was meant to mimic the flat, two-dimensional style of prehistoric paintings. The audience that night was not having it, but their uproar helped launch the Rite into infamy, helping it to become one of the most talked about and often performed works of the 20th century.