Unforeseen developments
(04/26/05 4:00am)
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
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It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Study abroad gives its participants the opportunity to fully immerse themselves in the culture of another country: its language, food and the familiar American hit songs typically blaring out of European radios. But for many Duke students, their cultural immersion in Europe also included exposure to local music they have brought back with them and shared with friends, creating a European invasion on Duke’s campus.
On the slow-tempo, blues song “Keep On” off her latest album, Slowly But Surely, Holly Golightly’s languid voice defiantly proclaims, “Let people talk until they don’t / Let’s me and you keep on.” Golightly’s assertion, though, is more than an affirmation of commitment to the song’s subject, it also illustrates her casual yet independent approach to making music.
This past summer, when Democratic presidential candidate John Kerry announced that he had selected John Edwards to be his running mate, responses were drafted from politicians on both sides of the aisle. While the Bush camp addressed the challenge posed by their opponent’s vice-presidential candidate, and Democrats whom Kerry had considered were drafting statements of their own, expressing support for the Senator’s choice, The Capitol Steps were working on a different sort of response.
Days before his inauguration as Duke’s ninth president, Richard Brodhead sat down with RECESS Senior Editor Hilary Lewis to talk about what he enjoys doing in the free time that he is now so often without.
In an election year, celebrities are voters, too: they decide with the rest of their fellow Americans which candidate they should support. Unlike average voters, however, celebrities have the benefit of a worldwide audience to whom they can offer their endorsements. But while their star power helps sell shoes, sodas, clothes and CDs, many celebrities aren't quite as successful when it comes to their support for presidential candidates.
This year, the music world witnessed not-so-successful follow-ups from once-successful artists and surprisingly catchy debuts from previously unknown talents. While Limp Bizkit demonstrated that the late '90s rap-rock sound was officially dead with the dismal results of their third album, the Strokes further cemented their status as the kings of stripped-down New York rock. More than merely reflecting the unpredictability of the musical climate, though, this year artists' willingness to change their sound led to some disappointingly derivative discs and surprisingly successful smashes. While OutKast proved that as two separate artists their mix of funked-out pop and inventive hip-hop enabled them to achieve their greatest success as a group, other artists had slightly less-successful forays into pop.
Ten years ago, for reasons still not fully known and from a cause that continues to remain the subject of conspiracy theories, Kurt Cobain's life came to an abrupt and premature end. But while Cobain's suicide also brought Nirvana's career to a close, the band's influence is still felt throughout the music world. The opening chords of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" are as hauntingly familiar as images of Cobain's slightly haggard face, and the iconographic elements of Nirvana have never really left us. But beyond the continuing presence of Nirvana's instantly recognizable hit songs, the band's legacy continues to pervade the sound and hype surrounding nearly every rock-n-roll act since the early '90s.
In 1991, the soundtrack to The Bodyguard had a long multi-week run atop Billboard's album chart, proving what years of successful soundtrack singles had yet to demonstrate--that a soundtrack album could also be a hit record. Since then, soundtracks have become abundant and heavily-marketed commodities. Still, most either comprise pre-existing hits or fail to yield many successful songs, and are incapable of being considered as a whole album. Nonetheless, over the past few years a number of innovative artists have taken a different approach to the soundtrack boom with individual artists creating entire soundtracks for films. Often commissioned by the film's directors because of some musical quality commensurate with the film, these artists are able to create appropriate and innovative concept albums with near-guaranteed mass appeal, enhancing their own success and that of the film.
Music fans like to view bands as musical partnerships. From the pretty-boy lead singer to the tortured guitarist to the overweight drummer whose kit is so far at the back of the stage that he's no longer visible, there is a perceived cohesion behind musicians who gather under the same-name umbrella. Equal stakes, equal investments, one-for-all and all-for-one--just a group of friends who used to practice in each others' garages and stick around for dinner afterwards. For some, this is true.
On her debut album, Come Away with Me, Norah Jones' mellifluous voice and softly swaying, piano-driven melodies earned her the praise of critics, industry insiders and music fans alike. While creatively and artistically honored for its refreshing simplicity, the album's peaceful yet sultry vibe and lyrics of longing and desire made it equally at home on an awards show stage and in the bedroom, accompanying not just sleep, but all the romantic activity that preceded it. But where Come Away With Me was all about the initial attraction, on her follow-up Feels Like Home, Jones has settled into her environment, and the album is all about the ups and downs of love.
A lot of factors go into selecting a candidate when voters step behind the curtain and cast their ballot for president, but probably the least determinative consideration is their chosen politician's favorite music. Even in this election season, where the intangible quality of "electability" is supposedly what counts, rarely have exit polls reported that people voted for John Edwards because they too are huge Bruce Springsteen fans.
The Grammys are often criticized for offering an inaccurate picture of the "best" music of a given year, but every so often, decisions made by the Recording Academy defy all explanation. Past years have given us such memorably bizarre moments as Jethro Tull's win over Metallica for Best Heavy Metal Performance and last year's Best Dance Recording nomination for No Doubt. Here's a sample of this year's more puzzling nominees:
When a star musician is accused of a crime, how much does it really matter?
When the Universal Music Group, the world's largest record company, announced its plan, two months ago, to significantly reduce prices on their CDs, the news was music to consumers' ears, and signaled a long-awaited acknowledgement on the part of the music industry to take responsibility for declining sales. However, so far the revolution has not become a reality.
When the United States was preparing to go to war with Iraq last spring, politically minded music fans were hard-pressed to find a new rallying anthem. Musical responses to the war were either ostentatious in the case of the Beastie Boys' "In a World Gone Mad" or not, well, musical. Now artists both political and apolitical seem to be willing to throw their hats in the ring, releasing music inspired by the current world situation.
In 2001, The Strokes burst out of New York's East Village club scene into a rap-rock and pop-filled world with nary a turntable or choreographed dance routine in sight. Clad in their downtown hipster wardrobe, these five friends from the city somehow managed to stage a musical revolution with their stripped-down, retro-influenced punk rock. Yet despite receiving massive critical acclaim and helping to launch the careers of legions of imitators, the band has still been viewed by some as undeserving of their success. With their short incubation period (the band only formed in 1999) and posh background they've been seen as privileged punks destined to be a flash in the pan. While nothing can replace the years of toiling and underground struggling that the Strokes' lack, with their catchy and complex sophomore release, Room on Fire, the band is poised to further cement their status as rock royalty.
Three years ago, it seemed like you couldn't turn on MTV or open a music magazine without Fred Durst and his iconographic backwards baseball cap staring back at you. Limp Bizkit, Durst and co. profited from the popularity of nu-metal, a musical genre pioneered by Korn or, more accurately, Faith No More and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. While those bands had acquired their own hardcore fans before success came knocking on their door, Limp Bizkit rose quickly to popularity in the wake of the surprising success of their more accomplished peers. Nonetheless, Fred Durst embraced his celebrity status, becoming the glue that held the world of celebrity scandals together.
With its pre-planned developments and homogenous connotations, suburbia has never been particularly amenable to punk rock. While it may be a fine place to raise a family, it's never exactly been an ideal source of musical inspiration. In fact, artists as diverse as Kim Wilde and the politically charged punk band Desaparecidos have derided the suburbs for their sprawling, monotonous nature. Yet lately, thanks to the popularity of melodic punk rock bands from such residential environments, suburbia has found a new, distinct voice. Using their secluded location to focus on interpersonal relationships as opposed to war and political turmoil, bands like Jimmy Eat World, Taking Back Sunday and the Starting Line are bringing the immediacy and emotional intensity of punk rock to thoughtful examinations of the human character. Two such bands, Thursday and Saves the Day, hail from suburban New Jersey, and while urban hipsters from the city are playing stripped-down, disaffected rock like their peers, Thursday and Saves the Day offer up earnest, emotional music focused on interpersonal connections.
Sticking much more to mainstream rock, yet still creating a unique sound, the Raveonettes are Denmark's answer to the Strokes and the White Stripes, and if the legions of music critics who have praised their hip sound have their way, the Raveonettes may become the "the" band for the United States. Like their peers in this latest Scandinavian invasion, the Raveonettes have culled their rockabilly sound and punk-beat rhythms from the past, drawing on 50s rock and roll and the Velvet Underground. Backed by guitarist Sune Rose Wagner's distorted guitar feedback and bassist Sharin Foo's measured rhythms, the Raveonettes play euphonic garage rock replete with driving guitar riffs and intermittent hand claps. Their major label debut album was retooled with a happier chord and features a trace of surf guitars and a melody reminiscent of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' "Don't Come Around Here No More" on the lead single "That Great Love Sound."