tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53890751041483361762024-02-19T12:06:13.145+09:00Islands of EcstasyLife in music. Music in life.
By Shiffi Le Soy.Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.comBlogger167125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-3463692901232867652010-03-18T19:21:00.000+09:002015-06-26T10:03:48.981+09:00The Greatest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<b>The John Lennon Museum</b></div>
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<b>Saitama, Japan </b></div>
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As an artist and rebel John Lennon has exerted a huge influence on my life. So there was no way I was going to miss an opportunity to visit the museum devoted to his life and work which is rather curiously located in Saitama near Tokyo. <br />
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The exhibition’s introductory film offers a rather perfunctory overview of Lennon’s life and work which is aimed at the casual observer rather than the devotee. It's followed by displays which divide Lennon’s life into anodyne though not unworkable categories such as “Childhood Memories," "Love and Peace" and "Household Husband".</div>
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Dyed in the wool Lennon fans will learn little that's new about their hero from this predictable assortment of costumes, films, song lyrics and other memorabilia. But it's cool just to see this stuff and realize how legends are not only born but magnified.<br />
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The displays do provide some fascinating glimpses into the star's early life through school reports and exercise books, including the original ‘Daily Howl’ comic he drew as a schoolboy containing a priceless <span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">weather report: "Tomorrow will be Muggy, followed by Tuggy, Wuggy and Thuggy." It provides early evidence<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate;"> not only of Lennon's acute visual sense but also his affinity for the distinctly anarchic style of post-war British humor which became a defining feature of The Beatles' collective persona.</span></span><br />
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I was delighted to have the chance to see Lennon’s first guitar, a battered Gallotone Champion acoustic, doubtless one of those, in Paul McCartney’s words, “guaranteed not to crack.”<br />
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Rickenbacker guitars were a key ingredient of The Beatles’ early sound and Lennon’s first 'Rick' - surprisingly small in scale - is also on display. I became quite giddy when I started to imagine how many pop classics must have been forged on this instrument. <br />
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Other highlights include the ancient two-track desk used for The Beatles' final mixes at Abbey Road Studios, and all-too-brief video interviews with Arthur "Primal Scream" Janov and Lennon-Ono insider Elliot Mintz. And who knew Brian Epstein once presented Lennon with a motorcycle? I didn't.<br />
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Though I'm very much a Yoko Ono fan, her presence determines the overall tone here, for instance in the pointless mock-up of the Indica <b>Yes</b> installation which marked the beginning of Lennon's infatuation with his Japanese earth mother.<br />
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Having said that, her influence on Lennon has if anything been understated, for instance in the minimalist style of the "War is Over' campaign, the white pianos and clothing which briefly became the couple's trade mark, Lennon's feminist awakening and the conceptual underpinnings of <b>Imagine</b>.<br />
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The John Lennon Museum’s ten-year lease expires on September 30th 2010. The collection could easily be expanded - since it's far from exhaustive - and should be moved to a more sensible location such as New York or even better Liverpool, the place where the legend of Britain’s greatest rocker began.Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-33791088332823045002010-03-18T08:02:00.044+09:002017-03-30T17:18:49.565+09:00Hip Priest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<b>Live: Bob Dylan and his band</b></div>
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<b>Zepp, Osaka, Japan</b></div>
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<b>Bob Dylan</b> - guitar, keyboard, harp</div>
<b>Tony Garnier</b> - bass<br />
<b>George Recile</b> - drums<br />
<b>Stu Kimball</b> - rhythm guitar<br />
<b>Charlie Sexton</b> - lead guitar<br />
<b>Donnie Herron</b> - banjo, electric mandolin, pedal steel, lap steel <br />
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As Dylan tells it, he was born a long ways from where he’s supposed to be and has spent a lifetime finding his way home. His “Never Ending Tour” is the latest episode in an extraordinary tale of <i>becoming</i>, which - as rock's poet laureate continually demonstrates - is the condition of the true artist.<br />
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At Zepp, Osaka, the lights go down and a mighty roar goes up as a familiar figure in white bolero hat and natty western suit emerges from the wings.<br />
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It’s almost too much to comprehend that <i>this</i> is the hobo ragamuffin who transformed Beat illumination into protest music, blending folk, symbolism and surrealism to infuse a vital literacy into rock 'n' roll.<br />
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In his greatest works Dylan created poetry which to this day remains beautiful and startling. His name belongs - it’s no exaggeration to say - with Shakespeare, Mozart, Joyce and Picasso in the pantheon of western cultural touchstones.<br />
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I have to blink the tears away. For a fan who has long struggled to comprehend what Dylan means - which is to say, <i>everything</i> - it's a moment of profound reflection.<br />
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'Cause if you <i>get</i> Dylan, he goes <i>waay</i> deep. He's the hip priest in the Church of the Cool, and the songs are the scripture and the religiosity is in the music.</div>
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Even stranded out here at Zepp, a functional concrete box plonked on the edge of Osaka Bay, it's a rare privilege to bear witness to the most influential songwriter of our times.<br />
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The band opens with a loose, loping version of <b>Watching the River Flow</b>. It’s followed by a harmonica-dominated arrangement of <b>Señor</b>. Bob is unexpectedly upbeat, smiling and laughing with band members, emphasizing each lyric with outstretched arms.<br />
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But it takes the band four or five tunes to hit their stride. This is mainly due to Dylan’s insistence on contributing his <i>esoteric</i> instrumental flourishes to each number. <b>I'll Be Your Baby Tonight</b> features a truly atrocious Dylan guitar solo which effectively sabotages the best efforts of his band. <br />
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But by the time we get to the jumpin' jive of <b>The Levee's Gonna Break</b>, the set starts to cruise along nicely. Dylan’s mood only gets better and by the end of the number he's cracking up with laughter as the band struggle to bring the song to a finish.<br />
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<b>Stuck Inside Of Mobile</b> is a highlight. Amusingly, Dylan can hardly get the harp away from his mouth in time to splutter the lyrics, so it sounds something like: “<i>Oh Mama (thweek!) can this really be the end (wheep!) / To be stuck inside of Mobile (whaark!) with the Memphis blues again (phaarp!)</i>” Tthe band fashion a rockin', rollin’ version which has the crowd hopping.<br />
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Guitar maestro Charlie Sexton - looking for all the world like a reincarnation of Robbie Robertson circa 1965 - is on fiery form all night, playing an enviable collection of guitars - vintage Danelectros among them, axe fans - falling to his knees in front of Bob to count the changes and make sure the master is locked in, since Dylan seems to get lost during the instrumental sections.<br />
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<b>Man in the Long Black Coat</b> is restrained and beautiful, Dylan singing in the deep growl which has become his latter day trademark. It’s followed by a barnstorming <b>Highway 61</b> and the cracking roadhouse boogie of <b>Thunder on the Mountain</b> with Bob again making those expansive hand gestures and doing a weird little jig on the spot.<br />
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Just before Bob is about to introduce the band there’s a hubub down the front. A handsome Stratocaster is suddenly hoisted toward the stage. It turns out a Japanese luthier has built a guitar which he's valiantly been trying to present to Dylan. Charlie Sexton carries the axe over to his Bobness, who is visibly moved and says, “I like that guitar. Really. I'm gonna keep it right here by my side. I'm gonna take it with me, and all you people, too.”<br />
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For a Dylan show it’s quite a moment. I’m touched, and I can’t help feeling proud of my Japanese brethren because the hard core rock fans here are super-knowledgeable, incredibly loyal and affectionate toward their favorite artists.<br />
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Dylan’s comparative verbosity will have surprised the enthusiastic salaryman we ran into before the show. Having scored tickets to all four Osaka performances, he cheerily praises Bob’s indifference on the first two nights: “He not say ‘Arigato!’ <b>Very good</b>! He not speak to audience! <b>Peeerfect!</b>”<br />
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The encore is unchanged from those concerts. Like most fans, I’ll take whatever Bob dishes out, though I was secretly hoping for <b>Like a Rolling Stone </b>and I'm stoked when the band crank it up.<br />
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Dylan's most celebrated “finger pointing” song not only burst apart the parameters of the pop single. In Bruce Springsteen's words, “it blew open the doors to your mind.” Reflecting the twists and turns of an amazing career, the years have transformed it into something which now sounds elegiac, and it brings a lump to my throat.<br />
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To conclude, the band deliver a full-tilt version of <b>All Along the Watchtowe</b>r. Then, as suddenly as it began, the music stops and I’m walking in the rain with two thousand friends, musing over the meaning of Dylan.<br />
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It's been a long, strange trip and we all know it's the journey rather than the destination that counts, so if there’s no direction home, that's fine by me. As for describing Dylan, I'll go with John Ford: "<i>When the legend becomes fact, print the legend."</i> However you look at it, it's a hell of a story, and like all the great ones, it only gets better in the telling.<br />
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<b>Set list: </b><i>Watching the River Flow/Señor (Tales Of Yankee Power)/I'll Be Your Baby Tonight/High Water (For Charley Patton)/The Levee's Gonna Break/Tryin' To Get To Heaven/Cold Irons Bound/Desolation Row/Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again/Man In The Long Black Coat/Highway 61 Revisited/Spirit On The Water/Thunder On The Mountain/Ballad Of A Thin Man</i></div>
<b>Encore:</b> <i>Like A Rolling Stone/Jolene/All Along The Watchtower</i><br />
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</i>Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-8934209628091774362010-03-17T15:30:00.006+09:002017-03-30T17:15:21.872+09:00Limitless truths<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Live: Wilco</span></b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Big Cat, Osaka, Japan</span></b></div>
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In a stunning performance which effortlessly blended post-rock stylings with experimental alt.country-rock, Chicago’s celebrated alternative rockers last night played one of the greatest shows I’ve seen.</div>
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As he takes to the stage, band leader Jeff Tweedy seems delighted to be in the company of a fiercely partisan audience.</div>
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The band cover the breadth of their impressive discography, including their greatest album, <b>Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.</b> The soulful <b>I Am Trying To Break Your Heart</b> plumbs incredible depths of dissonance and expression, and their rendering of <b>Impossible Germany</b> is nothing short of transcendent.</div>
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There’s a quasi-religious atmosphere in the house as throughout the show the adoring crowd urge their heroes on to greater and greater feats of musical brilliance.<br />
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On the contemplative <b>Jesus, Etc.</b>, Tweedy hands over vocal duties to the audience. Their emotive rendition is moving and heartfelt. I’m standing there thinking to myself, “<i>This</i> is why I <i><b>love</b></i> music.”</div>
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Even more impressive is the way Wilco take their rootsy rock into unexpected corners through the use of audacious experimentation. Guitarist Nels Cline was recently voted one of rock's top players, and his approach to his instrument is unique and inspiring. One moment he's reeling off emotive lap steel solos, the next he’s assaulting our senses with a mesmerizing multiplicity of soaring sound effects. </div>
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Drummer Glenn Kotche gets experimental, too. Solid and consistently musical, at one point he applies a delay effect to his high hat while at the same time running a pitch shifter on the tom toms. It adds yet another dizzy ingredient to the intoxicating brew.</div>
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Underpinning this diverse, beautiful playing is Jeff Tweedy’s superb songwriting. Alongside established classics like the hypnotic <b>Handshake Drugs</b>, there are impressive new numbers like <b>Bull Black Nova,<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> switching from edgy paranoia to tranquility before it ends in a psychotic explosion of fear and resignation. <b>Deeper Down</b> goes through some astonishing transitions as its textures evolve and coalesce.</span></b></div>
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Such music - at once beautiful, ambiguous and disturbing - reminds us there are limitless truths to be unveiled in the universal language that is music. You don’t need to be a Wilco fan to recognize that, just someone who recognizes the healing power of great art.</div>
Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-26332162063128613572010-03-02T16:58:00.017+09:002014-04-01T11:16:03.802+09:00Somebody's sins but not mine<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Music and Religion Part 2:</span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">The Omnipotent Sky Wizard</span></b><br />
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This posting is in reply to Samuel's comment on my recent blog <a href="http://islandsofecstasy.blogspot.com/2010/02/concept-by-which-we-measure-our-pain_18.html">Atheist Manifesto</a>.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Samuel, I'd like to thank you for commenting on my posting, I appreciate the feedback. Music is connected with spirituality in a million ways, so religion is not necessarily outside the purview of this blog. Allow me to respond to the points you raised in your comments.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 16px;">1. Why have people in all cultures believed in God? If there is no God where do you get your morality?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"></span>The concept of God is a wish-fulfuilment fantasy which helps us escape from the unsavoury reality that we're all gonna die. Human societies universally devise creation myths to describe not only where we came from but where we're going. The stories are surprisingly similar across cultures due to the universality of human experience and perhaps as a manifestation of the collective unconscious as described by Jung.<br />
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This has been demonstrated convincingly in instances of the collision between technologically advanced cultures and traditional tribal societies - so-called 'cargo cults' - in which less sophisticated cultures ascribe supernatural powers to people and things they don't understand.<br />
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When it comes to morality, cultural anthropology suggests that ethical laws are a natural product of society - that as communities grow they need to be able to police and protect themselves and thus codify rules to ensure the continued safety and survival of the group. Anyone who has observed children at play will have seen how they instinctively improvise rules and boundaries in an effort to ensure fairness.<br />
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Are we to believe that in 200,000 years of pre-Christian history, no-one came up with "Thou shall not kill" until Moses received illumination from a combustible shrub? Kinda ironic considering all the murder, rape and genocide God sanctions in the Old Testament. Do we really need a homicidal “omnipotent sky wizard” to threaten us with eternal hellfire to prevent us from murdering with abandon?<br />
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If you have ever used a razor, enjoyed a bacon sandwich, eaten shellfish, sworn at your parents, worked on a Sunday, partaken in homoeroticism, committed adultery or not been a virgin (if female) on your wedding night, your Bible demands you be executed immediately. How's that for 'morality'?<br />
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<b>2. Don't forget that Hitler, Stalin and Pol Pot were atheists, and committed the biggest mass murders in history.</b><br />
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This has to be one of the most commonly held myths about atheists.<br />
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Not only was Hitler a Catholic, he prayed for 'Almighty God' to bless Nazi Germany and invoked Christian faith and anti-atheistic language to justify his genocidal madness. Nazi followers regularly described Hitler as a 'godlike' figure.<br />
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Incidentally, not <i>one</i> Catholic in the Third Reich was excommunicated by the Catholic Church before, during or after the Second World War - not even Hitler himself. Yet Galileo was not absolved of heresy until 1992.<br />
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As for Stalin and Pol Pot, while they likely were atheists, they did not commit murder and genocide in the name of atheism. Rather they aimed to found a cult of the state very much resembling religion in its tone.<br />
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The problem with fascism and communism was not that they were <i>too critical</i> of religion, but that they were <i>too much</i> <i>like</i> religion in their manipulation of ritual, dogma, and the cult of personality to wage war against the defenseless. As Sam Harris says, an absence of faith or overabundance of skeptical inquiry was not the problem with these societies. They abandoned accepted standards of human decency and compassion largely because of their uncritical attachment to genocidal dogma.<br />
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Similarly, a literal belief in Muslim dogma had <i>a lot</i> to do with the tragedy of 9/11. And misguided Christian dogma has<i> everything</i> to do with the fact that stem cell research has been consistently blocked in the United States, that sexual abstinence campaigns have failed miserably, and that the Catholic Church has discouraged condom use in AIDS-ravaged Africa.<br />
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When was the last time a war was waged for a scientific aim, or a group of atheists obstructed valuable medical research which could save millions of lives, or secular humanists flew a plane into a skyscraper or exploded a suicide bomb in a busy market place filled with women and children?<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">3. Even one of the greatest scientists in history Albert Einstein believed in God.</span><br />
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Another misconception. Einstein demonstrably did <i>not </i>believe in a supernatural entity. Rather he used the notion of god as shorthand for the unknown mysteries of the universe or as a personification of the forces of nature. Here's what Einstein wrote in a letter to philosopher Eric Gutkind on January 3, 1954:<br />
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<i> "The word god is for me nothing more than the expression and product of human weaknesses, the Bible a collection of honourable, but still primitive legends which are nevertheless pretty childish. No interpretation no matter how subtle can (for me) change this. “</i><br />
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<b> 4. Look at all the times science has gotten things wrong. The complexity of the universe indicates the existence of a designer. And the elements of this unique setup are perfect for life when they might easily have been wrong. Look at the bacterial flagellum, an example of irreducible complexity and evidence for intelligent design of our universe and which proves the falseness of evolution.</b><br />
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Nothing could be further from the truth. The bacterial flagellum isn't even irreducibly complex. Scientists have shown time and again that parts of the flagella of various bacteria correspond to other structures that have different functions, that intermediate evolutionary stages have their uses and...well, I could go on but if you want to know more check <a href="http://www.vuletic.com/hume/cefec/4-3.html">here</a>.<br />
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I could also go into the facts of evolution, how <i><b>vast</b></i> mountains of evidence from biology, physics, chemistry, botany, zoology, geology, astronomy, archaeology, anthropology, genetics and other disciplines overwhelmingly prove it has taken place on our planet across billions of years. If you insist - as many Christians do - that the earth is 6,000 years old, how do you account for the fact that organized farming began between 8500 and 7000 B.C. and that the Sumerians invented glue 7,000 years ago?<br />
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You're right on one thing. Science is <i>not</i> perfect and it <i>has</i> gotten things wrong…thousands of times. But the thing is, it's usually scientists who discover and correct these errors, not religious believers. In this sense science is self-critical and self-monitoring in ways beyond the wildest imagination of the religious believer.<br />
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If there’s one thing we've learned from religion, it's that it has been wrong, wrong, wrong and consistently behind the times when it comes to science-based truth. Just ask Copernicus, Galileo and Darwin.<br />
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It’s clear that we don't understand the universe, but it’s equally clear that books like the Bible and the Koran do not offer anything like our best understanding of it.<br />
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Tell me: why doesn't your god heal amputees who pray? Why does he ignore starving children but give bank executives obscenely large bonuses? Why is your Biblical god such a huge fan of slavery? Why do Christians get divorced at the same rates as everyone else? Why do bad things happen to good people, even to good Christians. Example: the thousands of innocent children abused by Catholic priests with the full complicity of the Church?<br />
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While creative thinkers and rationalists consistently push forward the boundaries of human knowledge - demystifying superstition and designing our airplanes, computers, vaccines and life-saving medications - the religious doggedly cling to the same iron age beliefs they unthinkingly absorbed in kindergarten. Those beliefs belong to a different society, a different world, and they represent an entirely different paradigm. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">5. Jesus died and was resurrected for the sins of us all, including John Lennon who was a drug user, profaner and adulterer.</span><br />
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Well, as Patti Smith said, Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine.<br />
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With regard to the resurrection, given everything that the study of mythology, science and cultural anthropology have taught us in the last 2,000 years, doesn't it make more sense to think of it in symbolic terms?<br />
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Resurrection, rebirth and reincarnation are strong components of many religions, including Buddhism, Hinduism and Islam, since what could seem more godlike and supernatural to a credulous iron age laity than the ability to transcend death?</div>
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Many Biblical scholars feel that the Gospel stories of the resurrection are fictions devised long after Jesus’ death to justify claims of his divinity, and if any truth is to be found in their myths and stories, it’s surely at the metaphorical level. Even today we speak of 'born again' Christians to denote those who have had a religious conversion. But they’ve been 'reborn' to themselves, right <i>here</i>, right <i>now</i>.</div>
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As I've said elsewhere on my blog, when it comes to religion, <a href="http://islandsofecstasy.blogspot.com/2007/10/how-can-u-be-atheist-and-appreciate.html">literalism is the enemy of truth</a> and the father of ignorance. And a little critical thinking will bring you closer to reality and further from religion. That's why St. Augustine had an overwhelming fear of "the disease of curiosity."<br />
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But as T.S. Eliot wrote in <b>The Four Quartets</b>, "human kind cannot bear very much reality." Nowhere is this more effectively demonstrated than in the nonsensical superstitions parroted by ossified religious cults.<br />
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When it comes to John Lennon, what can I say, you're dead right. He was a drug user, profaner and adulterer who by his own admission wasn't much of a father to his first child. In other words a real person with faults and imperfections. But he'll be remembered as the greatest rock 'n' roller of them all, a charismatic force for peace, equality and social change whose music illuminated the lives of millions.<br />
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Like the man said, Samuel: "Imagine no religion."<br />
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Amen to that.Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-79168666807039003702010-02-27T14:27:00.005+09:002010-04-24T10:41:28.287+09:00Atheist Manifesto<div style="background-color: black;"><div style="color: white; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Music and Religion Part 1:</b><br />
<b>John Lennon and 'God'</b><br />
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The success of the recent wave of atheistic books by writers like Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris and Christopher Hitchens suggests that a vast number of non-believers are mighty tired of having religion stuffed down their throats.<br />
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Though the United States remains a Christian nation, it’s estimated that 12% of the American electorate - or 15 million voters - identify themselves as nonbelievers. As a potential lobby group atheists thus outnumber Latinos (9%), Gays (4%), Jews (2%), and also match the number of African Americans (13%).<br />
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I wonder how John Lennon would have reacted to this development. It's more than forty years since he predicted, “Christianity will go. It will vanish and shrink,” igniting uproar among American fundamentalists which led to the burning of Beatles records and death threats which influenced the group’s decision to stop touring.<br />
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Throughout the Beatle years Lennon took a keen interest in religion. His fascination with Tibetan Buddhism and esoteric texts inspired fab classics such as <b>Tomorrow Never Knows</b> and - combined with his prodigious intake of LSD and canonization by fans - led to some bewildering episodes such as the famous occasion in 1968 when he called an emergency Apple board meeting to announce to his inner circle that he was Jesus Christ.<br />
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Luckily by the end of the sixties Lennon had kicked acid and got his philosophical act together. His new-found clarity inspired him to demolish sacred cows such as religion, celebrity and societal control on his remarkable first solo LP, <b>John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band</b>.<br />
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Far and away the best album recorded by any ex-Beatle, it's a complete artistic statement, a self-defining existentialist manifesto which strips away all attachment to leaders, heroes and to god as a coping mechanism.<br />
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The centerpiece of the album is the cataclysmic masterpiece <b>God</b> in which Lennon emphatically refutes mysticism and superstition. Partly inspired by the shocking experience of Primal Scream therapy which confronted Lennon with the pain of his own childhood and fame, it shows the star in the process of dissolving what Arthur Janov terms the “God-trip or father figure trip.” <br />
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The song's opening declaration, “God is a concept by which we measure our pain,” describes Lennon's personal revelation and recalls Marx’s assertion that “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature.” It’s followed by a stunning disavowal of personal, political and religious icons: <i>“I don't believe in Jesus, Buddha, Kennedy, Zimmerman...” </i><br />
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<b>God</b> had a huge impact on me when I first heard it at the tender age of 14. Indeed, the roots of my own journey toward secular humanism lie in this amazing song. Its presentation of the deity as a concept rather than an entity immediately made sense and contextualized the religious doubts I had been experiencing as a teenager.<br />
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Interestingly, just as Lennon was coming out as an atheist, George Harrison was doing the exact opposite, topping the charts worldwide with his devotional ditty <b>My Sweet Lord</b> and donating a fortune to the “elementary penguin” Hare Krishnas.<br />
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Though Harrison’s Hinduism was generous and compassionate, he saw the actual world as an illusion and believed in reincarnation as a fact. His literal belief in such matters recalls James Lett’s assertion in his <b>Anthropology of Religion: A Handbook (</b>1977), that “Irrationality is...the defining element in religion.”<br />
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I can testify to this since in my daily life I’m constantly meeting individuals - many of them well-educated - who maintain a belief in paranormal phenomena even though such propositions have been convincingly falsified by more than a century of intensive research which is thoroughly documented and freely available to inquiring minds.<br />
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Paranormal propositions such as the Judeo-Christian assertion that “God” exists are nonfalsifiable therefore propositionally meaningless. Others - such as the Judeo-Christian proposition that the earth is 6,000 years old or that half a million Israelites wandered the desert for 40 years without leaving any archaeological trace - are falsifiable and indeed have been disproved by objective study.<br />
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But believers don’t want to know. In order to maintain their trust in an inherited set of illogical wish-fulfillment fantasies, they must ignore the mountain of contradictory evidence which stands before them.<br />
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To my considerable bemusement, grown men and women believe implicitly in the talking snake, the burning bush and the virgin birth. They pray to an imaginary friend and refuse point blank to accept that creation stories, angels and resurrections are mythological symbols with their roots in the collective unconscious.<br />
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The fact that the Bible's anthology of myths and ethnocentrism offers nothing which could not have been written by a patriarchal collective of superstitious Iron Age tribal elders doesn't bother them in the least.<br />
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It’s interesting and rather disappointing that, a mere seven years after the release of his atheist manifesto, John Lennon had relapsed into a superstitious mindset.<br />
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In 1977 Lennon briefly flirted with born-again Christianity through a series of contacts with televangelist Oral Roberts, who claimed to have had a vision of a 900-foot-tall Jesus telling him to build a research center. He also announced during a TV fundraising drive that unless he raised $8 million, God would "call him home.” Scandals persisted through the 1980s as fraudulent healing practices were exposed in Roberts’ medical centers.<br />
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During 'the Dakota years' preceding his assassination in 1980, Lennon and his wife Yoko Ono developed a credulous attachment to witches, astrology and numerology which helped them hire domestic staff - including the assistant who stole Lennon's personal diaries - yet failed to predict the murderous insanity of born-again Christian Mark David Chapman.<br />
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Such irrationality demonstrates how the rich and talented are as susceptible to kooky nonsense as anyone, but also that we must constantly be on our guard against self-deception and delusional thinking. Our sanity - even our lives - might depend on it.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Listen: John Ono Lennon: 'God'</span></b><br />
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<object height="344" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/enBsFxNnAqM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/enBsFxNnAqM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-52222595189919803202010-02-12T07:25:00.009+09:002010-02-26T10:17:41.293+09:00Inspirational Everyman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="" style="clear: both; color: white; text-align: left;"><b>Live: Goldie (Drum and bass)</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; color: white; text-align: left;"><b>Triangle, Osaka, Japan</b><br />
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</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOfdLr-AzFoCO6WuyJ2ElhqINoP-6qSlAF15g9JkVTswDM74roBAlEB2SvrM4BSx6T4XaT0Vye2jK6MEiUogqzSGS1GCBfRJbwdDEmaImlxI7RIAp8UsT1EZy56qjPiqeC4whN6Q_zpw/s1600-h/194360947_a37ef3f4bb_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOfdLr-AzFoCO6WuyJ2ElhqINoP-6qSlAF15g9JkVTswDM74roBAlEB2SvrM4BSx6T4XaT0Vye2jK6MEiUogqzSGS1GCBfRJbwdDEmaImlxI7RIAp8UsT1EZy56qjPiqeC4whN6Q_zpw/s320/194360947_a37ef3f4bb_o.jpg" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">During its twenty-year history, no artist has done more to spread the gospel of drum and bass than Goldie. From his beginnings as a talented breakdancer and graffiti artist to his groundbreaking productions - including a drum and bass symphony inspired by Polish modernist composer Gorecki - he is constantly evolving and never less than intriguing. </div><br />
Among many collaborations, Goldie has worked with David Bowie, Noel Gallagher and KRS-One. He has even found success as an actor and TV presenter, including one of my favorite Goldie moments - his hilarious documentary about bacon and eggs! <br />
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But tonight we are here for the music, and Osaka’s Triangle Club is packed with the friendly party animals who are typical of the drum and bass crowd, and who respond to its edgy message of emotional release and community.<br />
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Goldie comes on at 2.30 and delivers a superbly paced set which blends the usual frenetic beats - perfect for a chaotic melee down the front - with blissfully chilled out interludes. The audience is appropriately outta control, bouncing and careering all over the place. This is as close to techno nirvana as you are gonna get.<br />
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When his set is over Goldie steps into the crowd to receive homage from his groove posse. Famously good-natured, he has endeared himself to his fans through his indomitability, rootsy optimism and enthusiasm. Squealing with excitement, cute Japanese girls kiss and embrace him and even we two grown-up kids get to hug and chat with the great man. <br />
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When he finds out we are from Kyoto, he tells us he’ll be dj-ing there tomorrow. In fact he’s been misinformed and he’ll be in Tottori before heading to Tokyo. As we’re talking I’m thinking “Whoah, this guy has dated Bjork and Naomi Campbell.” Nevertheless he’s one of the most likeable, genuine ‘celebrities’ I’ve met and a truly inspirational everyman.<br />
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<b style="color: white;">Video: Goldie Interview </b><br />
<object height="385" width="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DSjrqAJZIlk&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DSjrqAJZIlk&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-89182381312493684542010-01-28T13:02:00.023+09:002010-03-23T13:51:58.928+09:00Sonic Architecture<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv4m0nsvFaftFZnOy2KVgLd-N6SJO3KGJ5cB_o0SR9gJZAS9k6eKXytqPBIzfonMQYBkkGk5XgHYWaKscmJb4F73RA_f4s5VVqwSQECyjjo0BrbSoGjp-KmggO59yfIuNjyGkLd204xho/s1600-h/itmightgetloud.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Movie: It Might Get Loud (2009)</a><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Directed by: David Guggenheim<br />
Starring: Jimmy Page, The Edge, Jack White<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">It Might Get Loud</span> is a love letter to the electric guitar which describes a 'summit' between three exceptional musicians who are generations apart: Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page, U2's The Edge and Jack White of The White Stripes. Each in his own way reacted with his social and artistic environment to redefine rock guitar playing.<br />
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During the opening shot the camera almost indecently caresses the contours of a Fender Stratocaster. It's only a piece of wood with strings, but to aficionados the electric guitar has more sex appeal than an Aston Martin. For the following ninety minutes an enviable collection of classic instruments is paraded before the cameras for axe freaks like me to salivate over.<br />
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On the creative side, <span style="font-weight: bold;">It Might Get Loud</span> tries to explain how a guitarist discovers his inner and outer space. Thus we discover how Page abandoned session work to forge the heavy rock archetype with Led Zeppelin, how The Edge crossed a creative rubicon which led to his spiritual fusion of Celtic soul with digital technology, and how White recontextualized the blues for the White Stripes' alternative rock crowd.<br />
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There's an abundance of fascinating archival footage which only leaves one hankering for more and serves to underline that each of these stars really deserves his own documentary. For instance the movie affords a fascinating glimpse into the armory of effects which facilitates Edge's sonic architecture - interestingly White is the polar opposite, seeing technology as a destroyer of truth. I for one would have loved to see more of this.<br />
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As a guitar player I was transfixed throughout, and anyone interested in the magic of electric guitar should see this movie. It's also pretty cool to get a peek at the stars' record collections.<br />
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But in truth <span style="font-weight: bold;">It Might Get Loud'</span>s rock star summit shows precious little chemistry between the participants. If anything it illustrates the characteristics which separate these icons and which perhaps explain their creative uniqueness, a fact which becomes all too clear in the final scene as the trio run through an embarrassingly naff version of The Band's quintessential classic <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Weight</span>.<br />
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<span style="color: white; font-weight: bold;">Trailer: It Might Get Loud</span><br />
<object height="340" width="400"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5sBLir8H2zM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5sBLir8H2zM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="340"></embed></object>Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-25129896835898833952009-12-22T17:19:00.063+09:002015-06-26T10:06:52.310+09:00Sublime<div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Album of the Year</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Jon </span></b><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Hassell</span></b></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">: </span></b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Last night the moon came dropping its clothes in the street </span></b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">(ECM Records)</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Jon Hassell's dreamy, meditative “Fourth World“ music has long been admired by discriminating listeners.</span><br />
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Understated and ethereal, his art may be on a par with that of Miles Davis. Indeed, experimental/ambient icons like Brian Eno, Arve Henriksen, and David Sylvian acknowledge the huge debt they owe to his innovations in musical theory, live sampling and soundscaping.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, serif;"><b>Last night the moon came dropping its clothes In the street</b></span> is Hassell's first recording for ECM since 1985, and is merely the latest in a long series of jaw-dropping experiments - including the astounding <span style="font-weight: bold;">Power Spot</span> and the sublime acoustic masterpiece <span style="font-weight: bold;">Fascinoma</span>. </span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Seamlessly blending theory with practice, Hassell celebrates all music, all cultures and all worlds as he fuses the beauty and sophistication of Indian, Arabic, African and Asian forms with the cool strivings of post-modern jazz and the possibilities of new musical technology. Cerebral yet sensual, the universe he creates is lush and profound.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">As he disdains fear, judgement or prejudice, Hassell presents a stunning cultural credo. He reminds us that if there are boundaries to musical, philosophical or emotional expression, they exist only in our minds, demanding to be burst open by our most gifted pioneers - among whom Hassell himself is surely pre-eminent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: bold;">VIDEO: Jon Hassell: </span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Last Night the Moon Came Dropping its Clothes in the Stree</span></span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-62757639068019272502009-12-02T15:16:00.017+09:002015-06-26T10:11:23.844+09:00Ancient Ways<span style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Music and Nationalism<br />
Part Two: Uyoku Dantai</span><br />
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410585016341294210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhibV8IOxbsZo9Zxfb84blA_tEHY8BK_27BaocDBeqARRL8c-6QKoxGEH5syWneoAR7X2z4sw4fXg3lK-ONaMd-g-enRAiMo9SKf0KeRUA3TFUunv92mZgZXZgluQFnqcqinC1MkX1AWpM/s320/DSC_2532.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; height: 209px; width: 320px;" /><br />
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If you live in Japan you soon become aware of the ominous black trucks ["gaisensha (街宣車)"] which prowl the streets blaring propaganda slogans, outdated military marches and the national anthem <a href="http://islandsofecstasy.blogspot.com/2009/08/thought-control.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Kimigayo</span></a>.<br />
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These are the Uyoku Dantai (右翼団体; lit. "right wing groups"), reactionaries who seek to - ho-hum - return Japan to the ancient ways. They remind me of loony Christian fundamentalists who crave a return to the old time religion, never wanting to move humanity on to a more enlightened future.</div>
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It's hard to say exactly how many Uyoku Dantai there are in Japan, although in 1996 it was estimated the country was home to more than 1000 right wing groups comprising about 100,000 members. But that only works out to a piddly 1.2% of the population.<br />
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Political beliefs differ between groups of Uyoku Dantai but generally they espouse a flatulent philosophy of anti-leftism and hostility toward the Japan Teachers Union. Since I'm a liberal-leaning university teacher you can imagine I don't exactly see eye to eye with these <span style="font-style: italic;">baka</span>.<br />
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Most are revisionists who endeavor to justify Japan's calamitous role in the Second World War, denying war crimes such as the Nanjing massacre and attempting to rewrite history in school textbooks.<br />
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Strangely Uyoku Dantai often contain many foreign members, especially those dominated by Yakuza groups - Japanese 'mafia' - which include Zainichi Koreans. Thus many Yakuza groups use Uyoku Dantai as cover for their nefarious activities.<br />
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Although the extremists maintain a high public presence throughout the country, I doubt they obtain many converts. And not only because they insist on forcing stuffy military matches down the collective throat of a public which would rather listen to <a href="http://islandsofecstasy.blogspot.com/2009/04/whats-wrong-with-being-naked.html">SMAP</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYE1DeQ_5ncp6bo5JEjci71sshsdCWxekplEpTuklh61x86nD7npod8-6hhAQZtxvOBV950_lf416yS2ahFQ-I_rBQ-4iwQjXO117mPPPBHGYlt6iNsiDym-2_SKdR-MSvWZOtr3NASQM/s1600-h/DSC_2535.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410519805306423298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYE1DeQ_5ncp6bo5JEjci71sshsdCWxekplEpTuklh61x86nD7npod8-6hhAQZtxvOBV950_lf416yS2ahFQ-I_rBQ-4iwQjXO117mPPPBHGYlt6iNsiDym-2_SKdR-MSvWZOtr3NASQM/s320/DSC_2535.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 246px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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The vast majority of Japanese seem indifferent to politics and sensiby ignore the tedious anthems which irritate their earholes. I saw this on a recent visit to Tokyo, where Sunday shoppers hardly noticed the hysterical ranting of a right-winger who screamed at them as they scampered from one designer store to another.<br />
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One opinion poll after another confirms that the Japanese are politically apathetic. In fact among Asian nations <i>nihonjin</i> are the least willing to die for their country.<br />
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So just because people wave the Hinamaru flag and warble <span style="font-weight: bold;">Kimigayo</span>, there's probably no reason to fear a return to 1930's-style nationalism. Japanese may not be as individualistic as westerners, but their jones for <a href="http://islandsofecstasy.blogspot.com/2008/06/much-as-i-enjoy-living-in-japan-in-my.html">J-Pop</a> and craving for consumption is of more concern to them than any hankering for a nationalist revival.</div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Watch. "You're a loony."</span></b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Japanese fascists display impeccable musical taste</span></b></div>
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<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7EsIeyOdUUQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7EsIeyOdUUQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-46273931567982995122009-12-02T15:02:00.013+09:002015-06-26T10:10:33.372+09:00Clunkers<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_pGyd3gHJ_PXihSkSvEYyKejW6Cp-12b2QkOQnm7LaYZdv_kJKv1QYp3939YvKZ3j78yESYiRRTrDaxe5LobiPqYW9zAYhj0qojIoDdOyFtG4o6NSCNc-oCsSX3F4VaJH_xhSmIc0-I/s1600-h/bedrich-smetana.jpg" style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Music and Nationalism</a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_pGyd3gHJ_PXihSkSvEYyKejW6Cp-12b2QkOQnm7LaYZdv_kJKv1QYp3939YvKZ3j78yESYiRRTrDaxe5LobiPqYW9zAYhj0qojIoDdOyFtG4o6NSCNc-oCsSX3F4VaJH_xhSmIc0-I/s1600-h/bedrich-smetana.jpg" style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Part One</a><span style="color: white; font-weight: bold;">: Cultural/Liberal/Triumphal </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_pGyd3gHJ_PXihSkSvEYyKejW6Cp-12b2QkOQnm7LaYZdv_kJKv1QYp3939YvKZ3j78yESYiRRTrDaxe5LobiPqYW9zAYhj0qojIoDdOyFtG4o6NSCNc-oCsSX3F4VaJH_xhSmIc0-I/s1600-h/bedrich-smetana.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410515444625653426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_pGyd3gHJ_PXihSkSvEYyKejW6Cp-12b2QkOQnm7LaYZdv_kJKv1QYp3939YvKZ3j78yESYiRRTrDaxe5LobiPqYW9zAYhj0qojIoDdOyFtG4o6NSCNc-oCsSX3F4VaJH_xhSmIc0-I/s320/bedrich-smetana.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 262px; width: 217px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%; font-weight: bold;">Smetana</span><br />
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Is having lousy musical taste a necessary precondition for being a nationalist? Maybe it depends on what kind of nationalism you are referring to.<br />
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Historically speaking, the development of nationalist-flavored music has tended to follow the same lines in different countries. Generally a "cultural nationalism" gives way to a more politicised "liberal nationalism," before leading in many cases to an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">exclusivist</span> "triumphal nationalism."<br />
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Some of the greatest music of the Romantic period grew out of romantic <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">exaltations</span> of national "feeling" and "identity" and the liberal notion that statehood be based on "the people" rather than religion or imperialism. This nationalism was the most successful political force of the 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> century.<br />
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Since early nationalists shared the assumption that their nation existed in some "natural" sense, composers understandably created a national identity through the evocation of landscape. Sibelius' <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Finlandia</span></span> suite or Smetana's <span style="font-weight: bold;">Ma <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Vlast</span></span> (My Fatherland) are beautiful examples. <br />
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My favorite piece in this vein is probably Borodin's <span style="font-weight: bold;">In the Steppes of Central Asia</span>. It evokes the quiet majesty of landscape in the most moving musical language you can imagine.<br />
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I can easily appreciate that kind of cultural nationalism. But things start to get dodgy when the politicisation of nationalism leads to a triumphalist tone. Oftentimes such musical reaction becomes formalized or state-sanctioned. The Nazis' <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" style="font-style: italic;">Reichsmusikkammer</span> promoted music approved by Hitler's regime, while suppressing any music which conflicted with it, including jazz and anything else with a modernist flavour. Japan's militarist leaders also outlawed western music and dance in the 1930s.<br />
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We British certainly haven't been immune to such reactionary impulses, as shown in works like Elgar's <span style="font-weight: bold;">Land of Hope and Glory</span> or Thomas Arne's <span style="font-weight: bold;">Rule Britannia</span> – both still wheeled out every year at The Proms concert series for an audience singalong.<br />
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Context is everything, and Elgar and Arne made more sense in the days of empire than in these politically correct days of multicultural awareness. Though undeniably rousing, their militaristic flavor sounds hokey to me and reignites my distrust of patriotism and dogma. </div>
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Don't get me wrong; to a large degree I <i>am</i> proud to be British. After all, we gave the world Shakespeare, The Sex Pistols and Yorkshire Pudding. But were I ever to attend The Proms, I'd need to be completely off my trolley to join in with clunkers like <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Rule Britannia</span>.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Borodin: In the Steppes of Central Asia:</span></b></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-66387098731617468282009-11-25T09:03:00.015+09:002015-06-26T10:12:38.862+09:00Fiery Jacks<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrs6ds9iYVzMKjWuz7d7Y3HOeDHsU391jwnKiizh9yIcXvb0E8pf41CzIuhTh-_hSRDd_1dc4RQkzOqgOOrUBPEGumeFyDSDAq19VlsrtuTJjcpytQTas8MoxELbTZqDf8GGmRxO9a1gQ/s1600/DSC_0041.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Happy Birthday to Me</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EO3xk-0M3Yv73HQPn4ssR20hUSG8XouQ6I5TwEJylHBhM00c5M6HLgc0Gpve4BIETzW6kM65-d6nKhckHLokPm7beVIH9omVps_dGRSdTvaGk0wPAkquOlX15DYl1a2CuC0_V4AjPsQ/s1600/DSC_0035.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407828183339705698" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EO3xk-0M3Yv73HQPn4ssR20hUSG8XouQ6I5TwEJylHBhM00c5M6HLgc0Gpve4BIETzW6kM65-d6nKhckHLokPm7beVIH9omVps_dGRSdTvaGk0wPAkquOlX15DYl1a2CuC0_V4AjPsQ/s320/DSC_0035.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 320px; width: 224px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Click painting to enlarge</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://islandsofecstasy.blogspot.com/">Islands of Ecstasy</a> occupies a decidedly modest position in cyber-space. Blissfully ignored by the majority of web users, it enjoys what the French-Algerian writer Albert Camus termed “the benign indifference of the universe.”<br />
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So on <a href="http://islandsofecstasy.blogspot.com/2009/11/only-ones-celebration-part-two-only.html">my recent birthday</a> I was touched and surprised to have my ramblings immortalized in a rather splendid illustration by Kyoto artist Oliver Kinghorn. Such recognition!<br />
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Not only is Oliver a talented painter, he’s a man after my own heart: a bon vivant, aesthete and party animal whose idea of a good time is to dissect the secrets of the universe while seeing off several bottles of the finest wine he can procure.<br />
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Mr. Kinghorn’s ecstatic masterpiece pays tribute to assorted beats, gurus and rockers. Those who are, in Kerouac’s memorable words, “mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn.” Fiery Jacks, one and all.<br />
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As Oliver’s drawing demonstrates, they number a good few of my main men, including Van Morrison, Henry Miller, John Lennon, Ray Charles and my chief spiritual influence - that great sex symbol Kermit the Frog.<br />
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<a href="http://oliverkinghorn.blogspot.com/" style="color: white;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">LINK: THE ART OF OLIVER KINGHORN</span></a>Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-4569332514654164812009-11-13T16:33:00.043+09:002013-02-08T11:16:23.518+09:00Sayonara Screamathon!<span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: large;">ONLY ONES CELEBRATION: PART FOUR<br />
</span></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white; font-weight: bold;">Live: The Only Ones </span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">King Cobra Club, Osaka</span>, Japan</span></span></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><br />
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRyyl72xoNm3AY4WVD0ms6KBfA7n95cRve_0ZfNG7F6rgw9drIS-eR7YoKMNV6-Zn6ediQ14mjrhkyonSlRVzee9V4-rVI4FR5K7F6LDqPhkyTfmP3-j9nowLM-3YRM60tpkq3Cc3MSU/s1600/DSC_2501.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404548520738796594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRyyl72xoNm3AY4WVD0ms6KBfA7n95cRve_0ZfNG7F6rgw9drIS-eR7YoKMNV6-Zn6ediQ14mjrhkyonSlRVzee9V4-rVI4FR5K7F6LDqPhkyTfmP3-j9nowLM-3YRM60tpkq3Cc3MSU/s320/DSC_2501.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 178px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">Now this is strange. Surveying the darkest corners of King Cobra, I perceive I am the only westerner among the fifty-odd Japanese fans who have made it to Osaka on this chilly November evening. But then I spy an enigmatic looking lady whom I later discover is Peter Perrett’s charming wife Xena.<br />
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I’m amazed to run into a few Kyoto friends stage front.</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><i> Who knew</i></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"> they were into <span style="font-style: italic;">this band</span>? Look out, there might be some secret Only Ones fans in your neighborhood, too.<br />
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The DJ is playing a decent selection of new wave tunes, the kind of singles you might have heard at any Only Ones show back in ’78: A Certain Ratio, Durutti Column, The Undertones and - most fittingly - the late, great Johnny Thunders.<br />
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvYivCJ-grx3tGVQzahJZavcAFZtCtb4Ntukm8d5KKXmqX4lP2wNMRzUXPZn-6BkisIRx2WjZaa30WhKRdnO426ej5Gf9vJKf0jPoXt_5UeIYTD4C41VOCdKplm3OEgQT-BBJ7qL5dMc/s1600-h/DSC_2571.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403488690572687442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvYivCJ-grx3tGVQzahJZavcAFZtCtb4Ntukm8d5KKXmqX4lP2wNMRzUXPZn-6BkisIRx2WjZaa30WhKRdnO426ej5Gf9vJKf0jPoXt_5UeIYTD4C41VOCdKplm3OEgQT-BBJ7qL5dMc/s320/DSC_2571.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 206px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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No sooner has she started spinning Joy Division’s <span style="font-weight: bold;">Isolation</span> than here come The Only Ones and, as in Tokyo, they begin with a full tilt version of <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Immortal Story</span>.</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">It's a brilliant start and</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"> I’m astonished when a Japanese guy </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">immediately</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"> in front of me starts to pogo! Time Warp City!<br />
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</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">The guys continue with <span style="font-weight: bold;">P</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">rogramme</span> and Perrett looks chuffed at the warm reception. By the time they get to <span style="font-weight: bold;">Black Operations</span> the crowd is going bananas and starts shrieking and whooping up a storm. Maybe they think it’s The Beatstalkers up there. The show quickly turns into an hilarious screamathon as the band join in with the fans.<br />
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Q02uW1Z9_ngOhK0hNzu6uEF1xm8_2Tf6xEM6DxZjwaTCDQvh23xEgQ4mJKmqBs3eZfdeYGLV1IMz_KSVp4j7ekVusFvhm_o5Y2wg7R_MrGqw8f4-k1cDxrSG-Rct7gWlrE3gUdOOxYI/s1600-h/DSC_2405.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403492391316063314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Q02uW1Z9_ngOhK0hNzu6uEF1xm8_2Tf6xEM6DxZjwaTCDQvh23xEgQ4mJKmqBs3eZfdeYGLV1IMz_KSVp4j7ekVusFvhm_o5Y2wg7R_MrGqw8f4-k1cDxrSG-Rct7gWlrE3gUdOOxYI/s320/DSC_2405.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 208px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">I hate to say it, but this does conform to the stereotype of Osaka people as the loosest, loudest, most in your face of all Japanese. Certainly last Saturday’s Tokyo crowd - enthusiastic as they were - didn’t get nearly as rowdy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The sound isn't great but t</span><span style="font-family: arial;">he music rocks. </span></span><span style="font-size: 100%;">When they hit </span><span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: bold;">Another Girl, Another Planet</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> the place predictably goes nuts and the guy in front starts pogoing again. A good portion of the crowd sing along not only to the band’s most celebrated song but with most of the other numbers too.</span><br />
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I must say that after 8 years in this country I have the utmost respect for Japanese music fans. On the surface reserved and taciturn, they are a committed, knowledgeable bunch who support their favorite artists with a passion. There’s inevitably a relaxed, welcoming vibe at Japanese shows, and this newly chilled-out bunch of Only Ones seem to dig it too.<br />
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkvVzcCd9cNamz46mzqoBVhZ9TZuETdS0t9OR28gO5eiZDkaTOyqMD1K_g2aRly35wf4e0kKTFEvt62CRX3PKPFrQWHtxJJelCdMdo5IYieKTWIrKHR762rENWKUBgROMW4JhNKr_BE5Q/s1600-h/DSC_2357.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403491365005132946" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkvVzcCd9cNamz46mzqoBVhZ9TZuETdS0t9OR28gO5eiZDkaTOyqMD1K_g2aRly35wf4e0kKTFEvt62CRX3PKPFrQWHtxJJelCdMdo5IYieKTWIrKHR762rENWKUBgROMW4JhNKr_BE5Q/s320/DSC_2357.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 207px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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F<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">or the second time in a week I find myself coming over all emotional at an Only Ones show. Two teary Japanese guys fling their arms around me in a gesture which goes beyond words. I think it means, “I'm on another planet with you.”<br />
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Then we are treated to a song few fans have heard of, let alone witnessed live. In Hamamatsu they played a chorus of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Watch You Drown</span> for the first time in thirty years. Tonight Peter manages to remember two verses and there’s a gorgeously expressive solo from Mr. Perry.<br />
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi29rqYmChA4VPAsepR7mpFqhaJObFllaACBR1-Hn06BQqZA7U4A0yUf5X-azlvcLisVhds8vRX07rifIm2Z8vk41k_K2alTsb5nti8C_7My3V3iewRnoRfVjV3gjnuuOsckG0sHHTnHVc/s1600-h/DSC_2525.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403490843630201074" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi29rqYmChA4VPAsepR7mpFqhaJObFllaACBR1-Hn06BQqZA7U4A0yUf5X-azlvcLisVhds8vRX07rifIm2Z8vk41k_K2alTsb5nti8C_7My3V3iewRnoRfVjV3gjnuuOsckG0sHHTnHVc/s320/DSC_2525.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 216px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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The version of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Miles from Nowhere</span> the band conjure tonight is, quite simply, </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><i>immense</i></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">, Perry’s guitar </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><i>soars</i></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">. Then the guitar man introduces <span style="font-weight: bold;">Why Don’t You Kill Yourself?</span> as “a bit of hari-kiri for ya.”<br />
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There are two encores. <span style="font-weight: bold;">From Here to Eternity</span> features more gritty guitar from Perry, maybe the best he’s played tonight. Finally <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Beast</span> builds and builds until it ends in a maelstrom of feedback, an appropriately dramatic finale to the Only Ones’ whirlwind 2009 tour of Japan. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And that's yer lot. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Four shows in six days and a hell of a week for Only Ones fans in the land of the falling yen. </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Peter, John, Mike and Alan, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">S</span></span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">ayonara,”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“Arigato gozaimashita!” </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">D</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">on't be strangers and come back soon. Y'hear?</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6DwrL7O5ht4PfcU8RPsoO5K5QQlg-nFAZ3GuvwCYEWKr-MtpvuInBr7r4yOuhU4gImF5jRIQiifOhqEoS5JCRMLgzSvsE7G-TvmQCKXtqnjtzb0uia4vK8-MwhlP73DYVs_dbyat70g/s1600-h/DSC_2232.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403489193802492914" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6DwrL7O5ht4PfcU8RPsoO5K5QQlg-nFAZ3GuvwCYEWKr-MtpvuInBr7r4yOuhU4gImF5jRIQiifOhqEoS5JCRMLgzSvsE7G-TvmQCKXtqnjtzb0uia4vK8-MwhlP73DYVs_dbyat70g/s320/DSC_2232.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 237px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Set list:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">The Immortal Story/Programme/In Betweens/Transfixed/It’s the Truth/Black Operations/Till it Hurts/Flaming Torch/Louder than Words/As My Wife Says/ 'C' Voyeurger/ The Big Sleep/Another Girl, Another Planet/Me and My Shadow/Watch You Drown/Is This How Much/Lovers of Today/Miles from Nowhere/Why Don’t You kill Yourself?/From Here to Eternity/Trouble in the World/The Beast</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Photo Set <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/shiffi/sets/72157622798323864/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">HERE</span></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><b>Video: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">The Only Ones, "Is This How Much?"</span></b></span><br />
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-32387210103032199482009-11-07T23:59:00.010+09:002009-11-20T11:17:28.083+09:00Another Planet<span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">ONLY ONES CELEBRATION: PART THREE<br /></span></span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">The Fan</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffffff;"><b></b></span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvog7yleDZO_89bCjP76fQlulBC7m6ENxJtX2ObBlGtNITH0oI4ZoWhtnRQrapcQKmTN-VcXestAZLbwcX_git2fodWsKLj-e7nqM9RvQY78VMqMI7Hp52QGVgaPnf0Bqr-58gcx-kDE/s1600-h/DSC_2309.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401665824096182706" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 225px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvog7yleDZO_89bCjP76fQlulBC7m6ENxJtX2ObBlGtNITH0oI4ZoWhtnRQrapcQKmTN-VcXestAZLbwcX_git2fodWsKLj-e7nqM9RvQY78VMqMI7Hp52QGVgaPnf0Bqr-58gcx-kDE/s320/DSC_2309.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:arial, serif;">Miki Says...</span><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial, serif;">I feel that The Only Ones can say many things to young Japanese today. For example their song <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Another Girl, Another Planet</span>.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Sometimes I feel I am a girl on another planet. That's this crazy planet called Japan where life is so strange. I wonder if The Only Ones can feel they are on another planet here in Tokyo tonight. Actually, one of my friends is an alien.<br /><br />The Only Ones are an older band but I guess they are kinda timeless with cool, edgy but gentle image. I love many UK bands but for me The Only Ones are the best.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Their songs can teach us many things, like there are many kinds of love and love has many sides. We shouldn't judge others too harshly. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">You</span> know, that's the whole of the law.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">T</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">hey've</span> had many trials and tribulations, so I </span><span style="font-family:arial;">want to tell</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> Peter, Mike, Alan and John please "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">kiotsukete</span>" (take care</span><span style="font-family:arial;">). Oh and come back to Japan soon.</span></div>Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-7730685047676052632009-11-07T23:58:00.005+09:002013-02-08T11:18:36.887+09:00Seventh Heaven<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: large;">ONLY ONES CELEBRATION: PART TWO</span></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white; font-weight: bold;">Live: The Only Ones </span><br /><span style="color: white; font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">AntiKnock</span> Club, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Shinjuku</span>, Tokyo, Japan</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbx-zJAuO46uOEQgK6LjUjzTwrRavb1JXopem7Cnjw0pFp46U5rcD1u65GfGl_EbWSwls3Z5QF93puP9-YoG1tbnFgIlDM1OqoAIiezHje94eJQvAXVXgtzH2CehDbrW2va_eRNiq7Kyg/s1600-h/DSC_2524.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402020102343106786" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbx-zJAuO46uOEQgK6LjUjzTwrRavb1JXopem7Cnjw0pFp46U5rcD1u65GfGl_EbWSwls3Z5QF93puP9-YoG1tbnFgIlDM1OqoAIiezHje94eJQvAXVXgtzH2CehDbrW2va_eRNiq7Kyg/s320/DSC_2524.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 230px; width: 397px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />This is the Big One. My friend and I are both celebrating our 50<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">th</span> birthdays and there's no place we would rather be than Tokyo's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">punky</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">AntiKnock</span> Club.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif; font-size: 100%;"><br /><br />That's because our all-time faves The Only Ones are on their second visit to Japan since they gave their fans the shock of their lives by reforming two years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">The guys get a delirious reception from the crowd and kick off with a rocking version of <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Immortal Story.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"> Front man Peter <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Perrett</span> looks every inch a star in black suit and red shirt. Guitar hero John Perry - judging by the expression on his face - is already in seventh heaven. Mike Kellie can't wait to bang the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">bejasus</span> out of his kit and Alan Mair rapidly puts his mark on the proceedings with a tasty bass solo.</span><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg3NED4B-2i7sGsO_s-RL-ZmDg14cRgA91AahgdPrVqQ3_uinDTgDWOJZU0h1DOzRGv7PjFaY6P_ydwjr92LiofSxWi7NiNS7pBL5QeK5nlItNQM6fpn1K4BFvKKYw-ySNxCx4JsVTvyiM/s1600-h/DSC_2400.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401656211448652594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg3NED4B-2i7sGsO_s-RL-ZmDg14cRgA91AahgdPrVqQ3_uinDTgDWOJZU0h1DOzRGv7PjFaY6P_ydwjr92LiofSxWi7NiNS7pBL5QeK5nlItNQM6fpn1K4BFvKKYw-ySNxCx4JsVTvyiM/s320/DSC_2400.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 229px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After that we get exactly what we came for: one timeless classic after another reminding us why we <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">love </span>this band...and why we've been missing them like hell for the last twenty-odd years.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Those familiar faces may be more lined, the waistlines a tad wider, but the music hasn't aged a day. The band storm through <span style="font-weight: bold;">Programme</span>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">In <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Betweens</span></span>, <b>Transfixed</b>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">It's the Truth</span>, <b>Flaming Torch</b>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">As My Wife Says</span>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Miles from Nowhere</span> and they sound as fresh and vital as the day they were released.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGUbara634Dwa8TLI5hPlP17aHTZsPrOh5Ig8IXJlICFk1Z1tNPoTi13YKvikW5Lr-8C3oORxqZMuVnVg1Hgu_QAGHMnbILxaepRL7do7m7aOdyAdhGzOeobi45C_1cpl3BFLYAF-_bM/s1600-h/DSC_2341.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402018785662369186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGUbara634Dwa8TLI5hPlP17aHTZsPrOh5Ig8IXJlICFk1Z1tNPoTi13YKvikW5Lr-8C3oORxqZMuVnVg1Hgu_QAGHMnbILxaepRL7do7m7aOdyAdhGzOeobi45C_1cpl3BFLYAF-_bM/s320/DSC_2341.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 211px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But this was no exercise in mushy nostalgia. If the oldies sound great, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">newies</span> sound bleeding AWESOME. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Black Operations</span>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Till it Hurts (?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Louder than Words</span> are bona-fide <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Perrett</span> <i>classics</i>. If the band can do justice to them in the studio (and why wouldn't they, the four of them seem to be on such a high right now) I predict the forthcoming LP is gonna be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><b>FUCKIN</b></span><b>' MEGA</b>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The lads proceed to bring the house down with a barnstorming <span style="font-weight: bold;">Me and My Shadow</span> which features Perry's milky slide guitar and a <span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">sweeet</span></span> drum solo just to underline the fact that Mike Kellie – he of the permanently upturned white collar - is one of Britain's most rock solid rhythm gods.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTnuegjA-ZsJIeoWibNlbS2NtF47sJJ-aL4CnEt0lvdImo8nvL0CoU1-x6HyuEoF9DidIZTSFEYDjaoAtT4cx5_LMR17T6WI8CsaUFU_wNu-ypJXDpIQ67TSfacuVSmqDKI-OMGDbNaI/s1600-h/DSC_2332.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402019503312867042" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTnuegjA-ZsJIeoWibNlbS2NtF47sJJ-aL4CnEt0lvdImo8nvL0CoU1-x6HyuEoF9DidIZTSFEYDjaoAtT4cx5_LMR17T6WI8CsaUFU_wNu-ypJXDpIQ67TSfacuVSmqDKI-OMGDbNaI/s320/DSC_2332.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 216px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Naturally they play <span style="font-weight: bold;">Another Girl Another Planet</span> – if they didn't I'm sure a riot would swiftly ensue. Even if you've never heard of The Only Ones you probably know this one, and the fresh-faced Japanese fans who form the majority of the audience – most of them young enough to be my kids - whoop with appreciation.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Perrett has a recurring tuning problem with his rented Les Paul Junior guitar which only adds to the loose, celebratory air and gives the crowd a chance to banter with their heroes. He asks for requests and a collective cry comes up for <span style="font-weight: bold;">Why Don't You Kill Yourself?</span> which seems to be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">everyone's</span> favorite track from <span style="font-weight: bold;">Baby's Got a Gun</span>. There's one amusing moment when Mr. Kellie counts in before Mr. Perry is <span style="font-style: italic;">quite</span> ready and is playfully rebuked, causing laughs all round.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">By now a touching bond between band and audience has developed, and the room is filled with good vibes. Long-time fans - <span style="font-style: italic;">grown men for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">chrissakes</span></span> - are yelling “We love you, guys!” and Peter graciously replies “We love you too! We wouldn't be up here if it weren't for you.“<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojXXGPBhi2oxt6kY691hZ0FAl5gowZLw6eYaSKHx3FBTT6FrtanldFte1dn6uJvAeRkMlk1kySVycSsQTah65laeggnZpXc9IT_7xAtIDj9fedcxe9TRuIhUSnrUt53jpuvb5GAebex-C/s1600-h/DSC_2499.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401658076725813266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojXXGPBhi2oxt6kY691hZ0FAl5gowZLw6eYaSKHx3FBTT6FrtanldFte1dn6uJvAeRkMlk1kySVycSsQTah65laeggnZpXc9IT_7xAtIDj9fedcxe9TRuIhUSnrUt53jpuvb5GAebex-C/s320/DSC_2499.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 320px; width: 218px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">It doesn't feel the least bit corny or fake. In fact it's as real as it gets, this connection between an all-too human band of outlaws which has returned from the edge of oblivion and an audience which never really went away and ecstatically receives its heroes with open arms.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">It's like each of us – musician and fan alike – is having the same realization: "We made it, didn't we? After all these years we're still standing. Christ, who'd-a thought it?"</span><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ja4CDOyt776dtfF8xpuuRtG70gZtXlChWG_dN_9mBg7JC5J5p2PkOOQqu0IlZ_1EsNpEFkC93bbCToIF38Zpz1jDbElvS11qe1Z8Hwc-Hbdd_Cc-X3IBjhioiiJs5W8viYxCG_UgOVo/s1600-h/DSC_2477.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402018275571488546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ja4CDOyt776dtfF8xpuuRtG70gZtXlChWG_dN_9mBg7JC5J5p2PkOOQqu0IlZ_1EsNpEFkC93bbCToIF38Zpz1jDbElvS11qe1Z8Hwc-Hbdd_Cc-X3IBjhioiiJs5W8viYxCG_UgOVo/s320/DSC_2477.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 245px; width: 259px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There are tears of joy in my eyes and I'm telling my friend this is the best gig of my life. And maybe it is and maybe it isn't and who the hell cares? What counts is that this is what life is about: art and love and friendship and survival and singing along with your favorite band. Right? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The Only Ones perform two encores and leave us with the triple whammy of <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Beast</span>, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">The Whole of the Law</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold;">Lovers of Today</span>. It's been a superb show and I have a huge smile on my face as I leave <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">AntiKnock</span> and breathe in the balmy Tokyo air. The Only Ones. Blimey. I wish they'd never gone away, but it sure is good to have 'em back.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJs0u_Hyu6I33nBKAu7iGvunp8oZ7FtdPXNhzOXdaDufUT7VWn_QXe09Ehd9kqiDfHOg63JBhh0n-nvpNWS6vKznfc9z1IPnRjsRUoa8gHHl0RqcYF6-M4v530wQWGaaIZ9B5e0eGbaUCW/s1600-h/DSC_2306.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401655260547381634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJs0u_Hyu6I33nBKAu7iGvunp8oZ7FtdPXNhzOXdaDufUT7VWn_QXe09Ehd9kqiDfHOg63JBhh0n-nvpNWS6vKznfc9z1IPnRjsRUoa8gHHl0RqcYF6-M4v530wQWGaaIZ9B5e0eGbaUCW/s320/DSC_2306.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; height: 213px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"></span></b></span>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Set List:</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Immortal Story/Programme/Inbetweens/Transfixed/It's The Truth/Black Operations/Till It Hurts/Flaming Torch/Louder Than Words/As My Wife Says /C Voyeurger /The Big Sleep /Another Girl,Another Planet /Me and My Shadow/Smokescreen/Miles From Nowhere/Is This How Much You Care /Why Don't You Kill Yourself?/The Beast/The Whole Of The Law/Lovers Of Today </span></i></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> Photo Set <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/44522632@N02/sets/72157622655801197/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">HERE</span></a></span></b></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"></span></div>
Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-88338193581893636152009-10-30T15:02:00.045+09:002013-02-08T11:22:08.370+09:00Shine On<span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">ONLY ONES CELEBRATION: PART ONE</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">The Only Ones</span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">(Rock)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">LP: The Only Ones (1978)</span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd5mEYTxWaw0O-qNKoB2zZr_-DWYd5n6ACdQFyAfz-ZRIIrbQam3kW_sYn17ER0a-66wazEF1sW1IBCLBon00UwfSU-tZebh4OBAGYCL6EspEjlGQwSOjaIEwoVAQR_XBbK89mIatE-EE9/s1600-h/front.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398591799601248098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd5mEYTxWaw0O-qNKoB2zZr_-DWYd5n6ACdQFyAfz-ZRIIrbQam3kW_sYn17ER0a-66wazEF1sW1IBCLBon00UwfSU-tZebh4OBAGYCL6EspEjlGQwSOjaIEwoVAQR_XBbK89mIatE-EE9/s320/front.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 318px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">When The Only Ones emerged in 1978 with one of the great debut LPs in British rock - and a name which showed they had <i>cojone</i><i>s</i> in spades - stardom seemed a foregone conclusion.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">Great songs, superb musicianship, a brilliant live act uniformly adored by the music press. What could possibly go wrong?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">But only three years later it was all over. Mired in drug addiction and with a lead singer bizarrely on the run from an attempted murder rap on their final US tour, The Only Ones imploded.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">I was a rabid fan from the very start, buying every release </span><span style="font-family: arial;">and following their live act around the UK. One highlight was the legendary Leeds </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Futurama</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> festival, where they shared a star-studded bill with Joy Division, The Fall, Public Image Ltd and other post-punk luminaries. The Only Ones were supposed to come on before Hawkwind that night, but they got held up on the way to the gig and ended up topping the bill.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">Though they were lumped in with the new wave vanguard, the band were too musically literate - not to mention long in the tooth - to be punks. Rather they were sophisticated guitar rockers whose sound embraced all flavors of 50s ./ 60s / 70s rock.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgbVuTPK8B6_7y_2k3ljxBn8_cKoZvEV7iyFU0-NYz73ldXw2ePJOMFOBgRmw_5XGDvwdyDO_ZtRUc976WsbpPB5qsX6rixFawQjM5B58KMnI4CoY2KVV3p4q-LNeGJEj62mNgEhGl8cP/s1600-h/003" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398282137093304514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgbVuTPK8B6_7y_2k3ljxBn8_cKoZvEV7iyFU0-NYz73ldXw2ePJOMFOBgRmw_5XGDvwdyDO_ZtRUc976WsbpPB5qsX6rixFawQjM5B58KMnI4CoY2KVV3p4q-LNeGJEj62mNgEhGl8cP/s320/003" style="cursor: pointer; height: 320px; width: 202px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">In Peter Perrett they possessed a gifted, idiosyncratic songwriter who seemed destined to become a leading figure in British rock. An androgynous Dylan obsessive with a quasi-hippy fashion sense, Perrett sang in a narcotic drawl which perfectly matched his tales of tragic dissociation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">In John Perry they boasted one of the great unsung guitar heroes. A portly, cricket-loving axe genius who wore an expression of semi-stoned indifference, Perry was a guita<span style="font-size: 100%;">rist</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Helvetica,Arial; font-size: 100%; white-space: pre-wrap;">'<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: arial,serif; white-space: normal;">s guitarist, effortlessly unleashing one awesome lick after another on his trademark white Stratocaster.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial;">Drummer Mike Kellie and bassist Alan Mair were 60s renegades who had seen it all with progressive rockers Spooky Tooth (Kellie) and “The Scottish Beatles” The Beatstalkers (Mair). Kellie was a commanding and musical drummer, Mair a solid and inventive bassist. He was also, as it happened, no slouch behind a mixing desk.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">So how could a band so obviously steeped in talent fail to attain the success which seemed their birthright?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">It was partly because they signed with corporate monsters CBS, Perrett reportedly being keen to share a label with his idol Bob Dylan. But The Only Ones were far too wayward to accommodate the demands of a major. Their constant stylistic variation, anti-image, aloof stage persona and Perrett's unusually fey vocal style didn't exactly make them obvious chart toppers. Tragically they spurned the advances of Island Records, whose maverick style would have suited them better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">And then there was the dope.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">Three-quarters of the band were unapologetic drug fiends whose interviews were loaded with references to smack and marijuana. Their eponymous debut stands as one of the great substance-driven albums in rock, packed with drug-inspired ballads of elegantly-wasted dissolution.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2MaUJYK4yKs2UAaOyLnYgTdaN7HXnhBY6MP4EivyiLLDXcD45B4Qe5IDPNEUwmxBfKHGpAQc6Ugn6qrm6x0B8lUUda7Z6Gm-7K8HEIH0ibkDg88EwNFCR15KmFUh3vuZlJRXBYbHvMSzy/s1600-h/Only+ones.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398277052070205058" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2MaUJYK4yKs2UAaOyLnYgTdaN7HXnhBY6MP4EivyiLLDXcD45B4Qe5IDPNEUwmxBfKHGpAQc6Ugn6qrm6x0B8lUUda7Z6Gm-7K8HEIH0ibkDg88EwNFCR15KmFUh3vuZlJRXBYbHvMSzy/s320/Only+ones.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 210px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">It kicks off with the aching love song </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">The Whole of the Law</span><span style="font-family: arial;">. Taking its title from dark magus Aleister Crowley's thelemic dictum “Do what thou wilt, that shall be the whole of the law,” the opener sets the tone for the album's romantic fatalism. With superbly restrained guitar flourishes from Perry, it's a stunning beginning and a worthy curtain-raiser to...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>"The hit single that never was.”</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">Perrett's stupendous </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Another Girl Another Planet</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> - the band's most celebrated creation - seems to equate love with addiction until you realize the “girl” is actually heroin itself: “Space travel's in my blood/There ain't nothing I can do about it.” The parting line, “Another planet is holding you down” suggests escape is futile.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">The greatness of </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Another Girl</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> demanded nothing less than superlative musicianship, and as usual the band rise to the occasion, especially John Perry, whose legendary guitar solo is only one of his many impressive moments on this record.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">If an </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;">obbligato</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> should be part and parcel of a song, emerging organically from its spiritual center, Perry's effort is a case in point as he comments on the lyric's general sense of elevation and transcendence. Admirably tasteful and accomplished, it's a jaw-dropping effort.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">Throughout <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Only Ones</span>, love is always on the verge of collapse, threatened by dissolution and departure. The protagonist of </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Breaking Down </span><span style="font-family: arial;">describes mental anguish and the hand of fate closing in: “People keep away from me/Guess there's something wrong with me/I can't do you no good/I always thought I could.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">The song's jazzy break illustrates how The Only Ones were musically miles ahead of their punky peers. Here as on every other song, Mike Kellie's drums are fluid and articulate, his tom-toms characteristically punctuating the stereo spectrum in effective style.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigDE54KaZ9-NkaUHODv0x0_E9JhRZTgLPpNpQMtY06pgCMtNbeguyxWHDn3GU6H7JBeuLezpwONLpYqzMwF8Ztpaw_b2BDKKWqZbxpdPb_koRSJln0yhaDjxuioSpFGZQguw5mBuxRvAJx/s1600-h/1theonlyonescenter-2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398276958639076402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigDE54KaZ9-NkaUHODv0x0_E9JhRZTgLPpNpQMtY06pgCMtNbeguyxWHDn3GU6H7JBeuLezpwONLpYqzMwF8Ztpaw_b2BDKKWqZbxpdPb_koRSJln0yhaDjxuioSpFGZQguw5mBuxRvAJx/s320/1theonlyonescenter-2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 198px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">After that the carousing </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">City of Fun</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> celebrates city madness with “people drowning in a sea of life,” from which there's “only one way out.” And what do you think that might be? A haze of narcotic escapism? Perry's frantic guitar adds to the general sense of life on the edge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Creature of Doom</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> begins with a comparative feeling of optimism: “I know something that you don't know/It's our destiny /You and me could conquer the world.” But with its talk of epitaphs and final straws there's always the feeling that romantic debilitation is around the corner, redeemable only through some kind of unholy co-dependency.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">So it is that </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">It's the Truth</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> describes the stunted communication between a pair of heroin-addicted lovers. “Something's been going wrong/I'm all fixed up and I don't know what's going on/I gotta talk to you...," but then “It's the last time I'm ever going to.” Again the romanticism of the decadent junkie aesthete: maybe I never appreciated you and we're both fucked-up, but this whole stupid thing means everything to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Language Problem</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> contains some of Perrett's most twisted lines: “My parents told me that love don't exist just for pleasure/So I guess I'll throw in some pain for good measure.” If there's a moral lesson, it's that drugs lead to a debilitating codependency. Having said that, in typical Perret style there's always a healthy dose of black humor in evidence<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-family: arial;">: “Taking drugs is one thing we got in common/It helps to overcome the language problem/And we really enjoy the damage.”</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial;">If I have a favorite track on The Only Ones it just might be </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">No Peace for the Wicked</span><span style="font-family: arial;">. With its sense of weary isolation and its self-mocking lyric, after all these years it remains one of my personal theme songs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">I don't know how Perrett manages to fit lines like “Why do I go through these deep emotional traumas/Why can't I be like I always wanted to be, carefree?” into a pop song, but he does so in a way that would make Syd Barrett envious. The track features a heartbreaking guitar solo from Perry before Perrett confides: “I'm in love with extreme mental torture,” a declaration of lovelorn masochism which will appeal to beautiful losers the world over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">With its opening declaration: “I used to dream of this/I'd lay awake at night imagining this," the album's closing track, </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">The Immortal Story</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> deals with the scary prospect of finally possessing the object of one's affections: “When dreams become reality that's living death can't you see?“ In its recognition that the best laid plans sometimes go awry, the song unconsciously foreshadows the demise of The Only Ones' quest for fame and glory. Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicPCesE4J8ud2CTtuY5T3ggruE-45UULs_0qWB_nXiash1wv7amX0mqjDnxsuBW-aKVPU1BF5V1rZKuowLgOI6B1Svamrn-aGz-K7m2ExtSMmc06iNHO2jZQ6mXma1HHBww27AmKPsiH2C/s1600-h/oo2" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398282342714705426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicPCesE4J8ud2CTtuY5T3ggruE-45UULs_0qWB_nXiash1wv7amX0mqjDnxsuBW-aKVPU1BF5V1rZKuowLgOI6B1Svamrn-aGz-K7m2ExtSMmc06iNHO2jZQ6mXma1HHBww27AmKPsiH2C/s320/oo2" style="cursor: pointer; height: 180px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">Scandalously ignored by the record-buying pubic - it only reached number 56 in the UK album charts - after 30 odd years this bona fide classic remains one of my all-time favorites. That's probably because I can still detect echoes of my past - my aspirations, friendships and romantic tragedies - in each exquisite moment. Moreover it takes me back to a time when each musical experience </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;">mattered</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> and seemed loaded with meaning and discovery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">Fans and admirers have long lamented the fact that a band blessed with an abundance of musical and songwriting talent never achieved the success that seemed theirs for the taking. But it's clear now that the seeds of The Only Ones' demise were evident in their earliest recordings</span><span style="font-family: arial;">. The band's downfall serves as a cautionary reminder to those who would confuse </span><span style="font-family: arial;">druggy excess with </span><span style="font-family: arial;">artistic expression.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ9dqjlg9_RlNidb-AXh_-PwD9cMOzoWqSd9d87w-3X-wyn2yMaHKBbKKdI7DJm877S_2k8tN0wyKekQv3FAoSlJJ0lNiboHBUBrs-eT9t-eAGze5zQf3QU54dmnMC7qYBwWUK1bld9XzP/s1600-h/back.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398591942368850578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ9dqjlg9_RlNidb-AXh_-PwD9cMOzoWqSd9d87w-3X-wyn2yMaHKBbKKdI7DJm877S_2k8tN0wyKekQv3FAoSlJJ0lNiboHBUBrs-eT9t-eAGze5zQf3QU54dmnMC7qYBwWUK1bld9XzP/s320/back.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 320px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">For one brief moment, The Only Ones' debut shone brightly and gave us 35 minutes of perfect, twisted pop. Describing the search for love and meaning in a nether world of narcotic romanticism, it's an album of intelligence, wit and emotional honesty which also happens to rock like a mutha.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">And thirty years later it continues to shine on, a timeless jewel which only improves with age<span style="font-style: italic;">. </span>Not to put too fine a point on it, it's a fucking <i>masterpiece</i>.<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>And you know there's a million frustrated rockers who would give their right arm to leave behind a legacy like that, me included.</span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-44849294266372873692009-10-10T11:36:00.042+09:002015-06-26T10:20:30.793+09:00Eco-Mystics<span style="color: white; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Flaming Lips (Existential Pop)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><span style="color: white; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">LP: Embryonic (Warner Bros, 2009)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqrB-ZZiA_odD5drbVAJUEbMsWyAodSOPG3bfm8xDKBo8eGe7NwKYzGAl4EZKzw3xb4Aq10wTSfJKsoVOnAq_T8OKccY36WrWQp9e3szF9DfAyDqIyoKF_K1ZvKAX1Mt1r5stt5IeJijV/s1600-h/flaminglipscover.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390797215606328482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqrB-ZZiA_odD5drbVAJUEbMsWyAodSOPG3bfm8xDKBo8eGe7NwKYzGAl4EZKzw3xb4Aq10wTSfJKsoVOnAq_T8OKccY36WrWQp9e3szF9DfAyDqIyoKF_K1ZvKAX1Mt1r5stt5IeJijV/s320/flaminglipscover.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 218px; width: 218px;" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">At this stage in their career Flaming Lips surely have little left to prove. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Though not commercially successful, their off-the-wall psychedelic rock has justifiably earned them critical praise and <b>The Soft Bulletin</b> stands as perhaps the last truly great experimental pop record of the twentieth century.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, serif;">It can't have been easy following that masterstroke.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> So after <b>Bulletin</b> we got </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the flawed genius of </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(2002) and the meandering cul-de-sac of </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">At War With the Mystics</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> (2008). </span></span></span></span></div>
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</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-FR1LKHRkWCNPH3di7N3UfYvqhwglkeJheaIjGrtFudCtoI9N_9H69z8eR1V1P2nw_O7O1PT14KFITEsF_L-d5tWViKZw1aW2OGvJ4TQ8XIDqEEZVveKyVf0W0gb-NI1BLhriM3gyp8yw/s1600-h/The+Flaming+Lips.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390797539628768082" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-FR1LKHRkWCNPH3di7N3UfYvqhwglkeJheaIjGrtFudCtoI9N_9H69z8eR1V1P2nw_O7O1PT14KFITEsF_L-d5tWViKZw1aW2OGvJ4TQ8XIDqEEZVveKyVf0W0gb-NI1BLhriM3gyp8yw/s320/The+Flaming+Lips.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 214px; width: 320px;" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The band have heralded their new double album </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Embryonic</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> as their </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">White Album.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Like that fab landmark it's a great single LP padded with self-indulgent – though not necessarily unlistenable - filler. Like </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yoshimi</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Battles the Pink Robots </span><span style="font-family: arial;">it's a half-realized concept album stuffed with free-form prog-rock jams and wig-out fantasies.</span><br />
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It's also packed with empathy, love of life and a philosophy which is decidedly 21st century in its naturalistic world view. A psychedelic jam session for hippies, brights and eco-warriors, if you will. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Best of all, <b>Embryonic</b> is mostly a head-spinning return to form, which will come as a mighty relief to those of us who were beginning to fear that the steady decline of the band's recorded output since the astral heights of </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Bulletin</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and the better bits of </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yoshimi</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> was irreversible.<br />
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Like life itself, where chaos and uncertainty periodically give way to moments of clarity, </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Embryonic</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'s random sense impressions somehow organize themselves into a compelling philosophy. This feeling is reflected track-by-track throughout an unevenly brilliant album.<br />
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</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzVq-GULna4QV3Oe2lRBasl6aRbTRqwOek3m6dsa3DZ7TDJUquL6V6MhFcrq2EgLPgfihZMU-k9Tf-qegWO1iStbMqZOJxjIld8t4IGohnvwEf946c5VkqbfM5aGxuy7vmS-cT_KqapHlA/s1600-h/Mars.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390796813581490770" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzVq-GULna4QV3Oe2lRBasl6aRbTRqwOek3m6dsa3DZ7TDJUquL6V6MhFcrq2EgLPgfihZMU-k9Tf-qegWO1iStbMqZOJxjIld8t4IGohnvwEf946c5VkqbfM5aGxuy7vmS-cT_KqapHlA/s320/Mars.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 224px; width: 320px;" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In opener </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Convinced of the Hex</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> the band throw caution to the wind and dump anything and everything into the mix. Nothing seems too far out to make the final cut, yet </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hex</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> sets out the central thesis of the album in no uncertain terms: "</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That's the difference between us / I believe in nothing / And you're convinced of the hex</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">."<br />
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Just as the best science fiction tackles the big questions, </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Sparrow Looks Up At The Machine</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> grapples with the meaning of experience. A dead ringer for </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yoshimi</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'s sublime </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Are You a Hypnotist</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, the song presses home Wayne Coyne's obtuse secularism: "</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What does it mean/To dream what you dream / To believe what you've seen? / Why do we feel / To try to find real / Underneath a machine?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"<br />
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Then there's the eco-grunge of </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">See the Leaves</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, one of the record's key statements. Bereft of hope and love, the song's conflicted protagonist refuses to believe life has no end as she sees the natural world decomposing and re-emerging around her.<br />
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The title of </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Embryonic</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> reflects the infancy of humankind as tracks seem barely developed from their rudimentary beginnings. The magical faux-naivete of <b>If</b> - multi-instrumentalist Steven Drozd invoking the ghost of Skip Spence – feels like an audio verite moment that went wonderfully right:<br />
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</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"People are evil, it's true</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
But on the other side, they can be gentle too</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">If they decide</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But they don't always decide</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
We live on the impulses</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Love is powerful</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
But not as powerful as evil."</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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On the other hand, inspired improvisation occasionally gives way to throwaway ditties like</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Scorpio Sword</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, which sounds like Syd Barrett on a bad day. And half-realized jams like </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Powerless</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> recall the Lips' origins as a spaced-out head band.<br />
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</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcBsjE3ZoNnirF8fb8JxjIb0evBeEKyopRYhdEvvd1qq-CNRxYWsD8-n3jsHG-6G8YoryX7e4obKKBq06weSnTmKMLdcGNfgE4j6MPPf0k6fzMjq2Avum-kn-14kleRk9RMRHkZjvhM3jX/s1600-h/lips"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390796874184014978" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcBsjE3ZoNnirF8fb8JxjIb0evBeEKyopRYhdEvvd1qq-CNRxYWsD8-n3jsHG-6G8YoryX7e4obKKBq06weSnTmKMLdcGNfgE4j6MPPf0k6fzMjq2Avum-kn-14kleRk9RMRHkZjvhM3jX/s320/lips" style="cursor: pointer; height: 170px; width: 320px;" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But this</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> is</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> the Flaming Lips, so hope is never far off. Post-Nietzschean popsters <i>par excellence</i>, the fearless freaks continue to ask the big questions, attempting to reconcile the unimaginable vastness of our inner and outer worlds with the miracle of existence.<br />
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</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Embryonic</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> is filled with references to planets, nature, technology and philosophical riddles. Its theme will be familiar to Lips fans: the struggle of the modern human to negotiate the impasse between magic and math in order to overcome evil and approach a transcendent reality. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sagittarius Silver Announcement</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> spookily exhumes the ghost of Ian Curtis to announce </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"We can be free / We can be like they are / We can be one with the sil</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ver machine."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In typical Wayne Coyne style, </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Ego's Last Stand</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> celebrates the mystery of a sunbeam, while </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Worm Mountain</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> invokes the wonder of creation in its litany of frogs, bears and mountains.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Insisting that our cosmic solitude be seen as a source of wonder, Flaming Lips stand up to the challenge facing a post-religious world: to find meaning in a godless universe while avoiding the pitfalls of ennui and nihilism.<br />
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We can do this, they suggest, by immersing ourselves in a kind of serene eco-mysticism, good old-fashioned love and peace, and a healthy dose of shit-kicking rock 'n' roll. They're all part of the same thing, and if you've beheld the wonder of a flower, wept at a sunrise or heard a Flaming Lips record, I have a feeling you'll know exactly what I'm talking about.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Listen: See The Leaves</span></span></span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Watch: I Can Be a Frog</span></span></b></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-29539865951797281282009-10-08T10:23:00.016+09:002015-06-26T10:24:15.842+09:00Spanish Bum<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: arial,serif; font-size: 100%; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Flamenco performers</span></span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">El Arenal<br />
Sevilla, Spain</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm on a quest for flamenco in Sevilla, home of Spain's earthy, self-defining art form.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Settling into my seat with a bottle of rioja, I fear I might be letting myself in for a touristy version of the flamenco experience. But to my relief most of the crowd seem to be Spanish. Hopefully that's a good sign.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There are two guitarists, three singers and four dancers who over the next two hours offer up a concentrated exposition of flamencology. If it feels a tad diluted, it's an experience unlike any other.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As the musicians ignite a roaring <i>cantando</i>, we are plunged into the never-ending romantic struggle between man and woman, the human drama which elates, frustrates and gives meaning to our existence.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Though life contains suffering, this music proclaims, it is indeed better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. The beauty and the ecstasy make it all worthwhile and enable us to bear anything.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A handsome and intimidating woman takes to the stage and proceeds to offer a dance filled with desperate passion. She brings the crowd to its feet. As she takes her bow, the perspiration oozing between her impressive breasts is one of the most erotic sights I've ever seen.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The following male dancer is sensational. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Astonishingly, he is a dead ringer for footballer David Beckham, and I notice that the ladies in the audience can't take their eyes off his tight Spanish bum. As he stamps and flexes like a coiled spring, the passionate tension he communicates is almost too much for them.</span></span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-50021093784960449342009-10-08T09:25:00.011+09:002015-06-26T10:26:14.509+09:00Pleasantly Woozy<span style="color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 100%; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Cante Flamenco</span></span><br />El Cairo,<br />Sevilla, Spain</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,serif;"></span>I'm propping up the bar at El Cairo, a Sevillan pub I've taken a liking to. It's frequented mainly by old Spaniards and serves up delicious fish soup, tortillas sevillianas and a house rioja which goes down mighty easy. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm starting to feel pleasantly woozy when a couple of Spanish geezers along the counter suddenly break into song. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You're never far away from music in Sevilla and its bar culture is the perfect environment for a bunch of old codgers to let fly. Their spontaneous crescendo of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">cante flamenco libre</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> leaves the two <i>viejas</i> who have been tolerating my pidgin Spanish beaming with delight. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The barman seizes the moment to erupt into a Spanish rendition of Herb Alpert's </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This Guy's in Love with You</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, proving that cheese is universal and goes as well with rioja and tapas as it does with ale and pickled onions.</span></span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Uno tinto mas</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> por favor!</span></span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-8827052072961282482009-09-24T16:08:00.019+09:002015-06-26T10:29:22.804+09:00Dance of Death<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Music of the Bulls<br />Sevilla, Spain</span></span></span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif;">As I take my seat in the arena I notice I am situated directly opposite the bandstand. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">A chorus of trumpets plays popular tunes and heady Sevillan fanfares.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But this is no concerto, opera or pantomime. </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;">It's the music of the bulls. A dance of death.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial;">An excited international crowd is eating snacks, drinking beer and chattering in Spanish, Italian and German.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But beneath me, somewhere in the bowels of the arena, I can hear the bulls bellowing. Their hoarse, brutish roar betokens a bloody, inescapable fate, and a lump rises in my throat.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif;">The orchestra's farty noodlings lend an inappropriately comical air to the grisly proceedings which are about to unfold.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As the music builds to a crescendo, I recognize the tune: <b>Another Day in Paradise</b>.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,serif;"></span>A bejeweled matador parades around the ring then stops directly in front of me. Unspeakably handsome, he seems to belong to a different time. Proudly addressing himself to family members seated behind me, he announces, "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I will kill this bull in tribute to the mother I recently lost."</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif; font-size: small;">With the heady combination of the music, crowd and vino tinto, it's a surreal, startling moment straight out of Hemingway.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Suddenly a mighty roar goes up as a black mass explodes into the ring.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif;">It's a fearsome, majestic sight, a primal force totally in accord with its nature. In its animal purity the bull is the moral superior of those who would despatch it on this balmy Spanish evening.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I am conflicted about my presence. My vegetarian friends would disown me forthwith if they could see me now. </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;">But nothing on earth can alter the fact that six bulls will meet their end in the ring tonight.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 16px;"></span>T<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">he trumpets play a few staccato bursts which signal the entrance of the picadors. They harry and prick the bull to weaken it. Again the flatulent horns before two </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">bandilleros</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> pirourette around the giant beast before spearing him with arrows.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Finally it's man against beast as toro and toreador perform an appalling ballet. The bull is tiring and heaving as dark rivulets of blood course over its huge shoulders and down its flanks. I feel shocked yet transfixed, removed yet somehow culpable.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As the matador makes his final assault - brave, audacious, narcissistic - he grievously mistimes. Not once, not twice, but thrice must he deal the final blow. A chorus of boos and whistles go up from the crowd until finally the animal is slaughtered. The effect is one of undignified bathos.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The bull takes it final bow as its carcass is unceremoniously hauled out of the arena by a team of horses, leaving blood and dust in its wake. Once more the sound of trumpets fills the air as the matador takes his bows and receives the acclaim of the crowd.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The bullring is meticulously raked and manicured. Then the orchestra strikes up a noble fanfare in honor of the next victim.</span></span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-29052468587719047832009-08-20T10:31:00.017+09:002015-06-26T10:31:21.453+09:00Acolyte<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Kenny Garrett</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Billboard Club</span></b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Osaka, Japan</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Jazz has by now become a catch-all term for a broad range of musical forms. They run the gamut from straight ahead trad to ambient exploration and everything in-between.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">This was amply demonstrated last night as Kenny Garrett - acolyte of Duke Ellington, Miles Davis and Herbie Hancock - offered an intriguing sample of items to be found on the menu of contemporary jazz.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The opening song's deconstructed jazz-funk features a syncopated groove over which organist Johnny <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mercier</span> lays down some irresistibly funky lines. Garrett's abstract sax is processed with pitch effects in the style of Jon <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Hassell</span>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Garrett's tone combines the lusty depth of Lester Young with the spiritual yearning of his hero John Coltrane. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Mercier's</span> gospel-tinged organ playing is sublime. Drummer Justin Brown <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">effortlessly</span> mixes a post-bop vocabulary with rock and hip-hop while <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kona</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Khasu</span> on bass is solid and inventive.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Garrett opts to play keyboard at certain moments during the set, including a one-minute keyboard interlude - childlike and off-kilter - featuring himself on Rhodes and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Mercier</span> on Hammond B3.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Then <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">come's</span> a bewildering <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">MOR</span> instrumental which would be the perfect soundtrack if movie director David Lynch ever hosted a daytime chat show.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The set starts to depart from the hard-hitting post-bop which commenced the proceedings and at times<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;"> comes dangerously close to easy-listening. The band is cruising and you get the feeling they can reel off this stuff in their sleep.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">But events take a dramatic turn on the next two numbers when Justin Brown introduces some furious cross-rhythmic patterns into the mix. This guy is one of the most excitingly musical drummers I've heard since Billy Higgins and the mighty crescendo of noise he <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy;">unleashes <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;">is astonishing.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The band then proceed to grandstand with the singalong </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Happy People</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">. The purist in me cringes at Garrett's populist calls for the audience to rise to their feet, and considering his stunning post-bop CV it seems a tad cheesy. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">But what do I know? The crowd are literally on their seats and there's no doubt <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">everyone's</span> having a roaring good time.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Fittingly the band end their set with a three-song tribute to Japan in the form of national favorites </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Akatonbo</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> (Dragonfly), </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Tsubasa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">wo</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">kudasa</span></span></b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">i</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> (Give Me Wings) and </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Kojiyou</span> no <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Tsuki</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> (Moon of the Old Castle). Each is restrained and beautiful.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">For an encore Garrett and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Mercier</span> offer a glorious, soulful interpretation of the Japanese national song </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Kimigayo</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">. The nationalist overtones of the tune are stripped away as Garrett transforms it into a tribute to his Japanese hosts. Notwithstanding <a href="http://islandsofecstasy.blogspot.com/2009/08/thought-control.html">my reservations about national anthems</a>, it's a truly affecting rendition which sends a wave of emotion around the room.</span></span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-37507326641892132902009-08-14T07:51:00.026+09:002015-06-26T10:33:27.877+09:00Thought Control<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">The Japanese National Anthem</span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: italic;">"Unthinking respect for authority is the greatest enemy of truth."</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;"> </span>Albert Einstein</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Japan's long-running debate over the enforced singing of the <b>Kimigayo</b> national anthem at school ceremonies has taken yet another turn as a Japanese court recently rejected a lawsuit filed by a group of 135 public school teachers.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The educators rightly insist that being forced to sing the national anthem infringes upon their human rights and violates constitutionally guaranteed freedoms of thought and conscience.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Bizarrely the Yokohama District Court has ruled that requiring staff and students to stand and sing the national anthem counts as a ritual and does not enforce a specific kind of thought.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">But if there's no intent or meaning behind the ritual, why implement it in the first place?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The Japanese authorities' thinking on this issue has been typically muddled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Since 2006 the Kanagawa educational board has required school principals to report the names of teachers who refuse to sing <b>Kimigayo</b> despite the fact that a prefectural panel has deemed the board's action inappropriate.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Not only that, the Tokyo District Court ruled in September 2006 that teachers are not obliged to sing <b>Kimigayo</b>. However, only five months later Japan's Supreme Court ruled that when a Tokyo school principal ordered a music teacher to accompanying the singing of the anthem on piano, the act was constitutional.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">And just one year ago Japan's education ministry published a revised education curriculum for elementary and junior high schools. It calls for promoting patriotism and requiring children between the first and sixth grades to sing the national anthem.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The new guidelines - to be implemented in elementary schools in 2011 and in junior high schools in 2012 - state: "Moral education shall be aimed at nurturing respect for (Japan's) tradition and culture . . . and at cultivating morality."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">This hypocrisy from a governmental system rife with corruption and which regularly tramples over human rights. Examples include the use of forced confessions by police officers, misuse of the laws on capital crime and turning a blind eye to rape and female sex trafficking.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">It's worth recalling the convulsive period of Japanese history which began in 1930 and culminated in the nation's calamitous defeat in World War II.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In an effort to impose thought control on the Japanese people, ultra-nationalists embarked upon a successful culture war in which the manipulation of musical taste played a major role. Dance halls were closed, western pop was actively discouraged and militaristic music blared across the nation's airwaves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Since teachers played a crucial role in establishing Japan's war mobilization in the 1930s - martial drills were practiced in all Japanese schools - it's clear that the resistance of educators to reactionary nonsense will continue to be a major obstacle to the re-emergence of Japanese nationalism.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Japan has a much-admired pacifist constitution and is a largely peaceful society, but its citizens have an unhealthy respect for authority which tends toward blind obedience.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Though the nation seems to have taken on board the harsh lessons of recent history, who's to say that future economic hardship and political turmoil might not cause nationalism to rear its ugly head once more?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Therefore it's essential that peace and human rights continue to be actively promoted in the nation's classrooms and the arts used as a tool for enlightenment rather than reactionary manipulation. As long as this is done, the use of music and education to further the goals of nationalist maniacs will remain a nightmare rather than a reality.</span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-18808261349053365192009-07-28T17:36:00.040+09:002015-06-26T10:37:03.094+09:00Y-fronts<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Fuji Rock 2009</span></b><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Oasis (Rock)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">So we drove nine hours for this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">To stand in the middle of a field getting soaked to our y-fronts. And all for a bunch of scallies from Manchester.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Oasis are headlining Fuji tonight as part of an ultramassive world tour which underlines their recent renewed success.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">A huge - and I mean <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">HUGE</span> - roar erupts from the crowd...and here come the saviors of rock 'n' roll.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Yep, it's Noel, Liam and, er, the other guys.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The logistics of what it took to get the band here tonight are mind-boggling. How much technology must it take - airplanes, freight, generators and the rest of it - to plonk Oasis on a stage in the middle of a Japanese alpine valley?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">But it seems the most natural thing in the world when their faces - familiar from a thousand TV shows and magazines - appear from the wings.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The place goes absolutely mental.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">If last year Underworld received a thunderous reception from the Fuji hordes, the welcome given Oasis is absolutely deafening. The atmosphere is electric and there's a mad rush as 50,000 Japanese fans head pell-mell toward the stage.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ouch! Look out, wontcha!?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Anyroad Noel looks pretty cool in a leather bomber jacket even though temperatures are well into the 30s. Liam's wearing one of those long green raincoat thingies from his much-ridiculed (by Noel) fashion collection.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He's gonna need it if the weather keeps on like this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">They start with<b> Fuckin' in the Bushes</b>, then <b>Rock 'n' Roll Star</b> and <b>Lyla</b>. It's a familiar but effective set of no-frills Oasis rock 'n' roll. Sure it's predictable, but loud and in person ya gotta admit it's quite a show.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The innate conservatism of Oasis which has always turned me off is the main reason for their success.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Their obsession with The Beatles, Stooges and Stone Roses - as well as the occasional plagiarized riff or lyric - has enabled them to sound like a classic rock band without ever actually becoming one, that rollicking first album aside.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I may not be <a href="http://islandsofecstasy.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-not-holding-my-breath.html"><b>Oasis' number one fan</b></a>, but they've won me over - or worn me down - over the years. Noel has proven himself to be a genuinely amusing social commentator and his melodic gifts have turned his band into a national institution.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">But glancing at my friend I notice a cavernous yawn spreading over his face. We're in a bemused minority of two among 50,000 believers. He gestures for us to leave and we head to catch the end of System 7.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">When we stagger past the main stage one hour later, Oasis are still going strong. We catch the dying strains of <b>Champagne Supernova</b> and a cracking version of <b>I Am The Walrus</b> which trumps the recorded version.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Liam thanks the crowd for enduring the torrential rain - "Nice one for stickin' around in this" - but delivered in a Mancunian drawl his appreciation goes completely over the heads of his adoring Japanese fans.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Good night, Fuji Rock.</span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-29619285200528228802009-07-28T16:05:00.023+09:002015-06-26T10:40:02.737+09:00Freak Scene<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Fuji Rock 2009</span></b><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Dinosaur Jr (Rock)</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPS4Z30fXFMLcLe2w038WSd0Yle_3I9bzUqDJkj89grMLR9GwpzUbh0P0ApkPBjswH1xNE3cQTtzlHVFWMyjMAi4paY2DwPbYF20buh1-nvwRIoCCqqsi3y-UFCoe7bF3czeGUHhUjv92/s1600-h/060226dinosaur0143.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363403744500830546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPS4Z30fXFMLcLe2w038WSd0Yle_3I9bzUqDJkj89grMLR9GwpzUbh0P0ApkPBjswH1xNE3cQTtzlHVFWMyjMAi4paY2DwPbYF20buh1-nvwRIoCCqqsi3y-UFCoe7bF3czeGUHhUjv92/s320/060226dinosaur0143.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; height: 213px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Is it <i>really</i> twenty-odd years since I used to drive out to Isla Vista, California to pick up the latest Dinosaur Jr releases? Since I first saw them live when they played the tiny pizza parlor next to Morninglory Records?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><i>Twenty</i> years since I was working construction and rocking out to Husker Du, Soul Asylum, Big Black and other avatars of the pre-grunge scene?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><i>It is</i>, you know. And before Fuji Rock, I'd almost forgotten how heavily I was into hardcore in those days.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">As I drove around in my beat-up Ford Granada, Dinosaur Jr's early classics - <b>Little Fury Things</b>, <b>The Lung</b>, <b>Tarpi</b>t, <b>Freak Scene</b> - kept me rocking through Cali. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The band were a fantastic, unlikely combination of Crazy Horse, Black Sabbath and The Replacements and they invented a new musical genre: ear-bleeding country music. Totally revamping the power-trio format, the band introduced unusual song structures, melody and extreme volume and distortion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">On the negative side they did come up with that irritating <b>LOUD quiet LOUD</b> technique which was done to death by every grunge groaner, from Pixies to Nirvana.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">But Dinosaur Jr did it best.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">J. Mascis' detached drawl communicated a bemused savant aesthetic and was an antidote to the tiresome post-punk scream. </span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Though his distorted, melodic guitar playing had its roots in classic rock and country it also communicated a literate punk fury. The crucial ingredient was that Mascis was a superlative player, a guitar hero for post-punks like me. </span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">After an ugly breakup and years of separation the original band have returned - and how! - with two superb albums in <b>Beyond</b> (2007) and <b>Farm</b> (2009). Artistically - every which way, in fact - this has got to be one of the most successful comebacks in rock history.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">So here they are at Fuji Rock's Red Marquee and it's a gas to see my old heroes unleashing a familiar aural assault upon thousands of unsuspecting Japanese kids. All of the classics are there - <b>Let it Ride</b>, <b>Just like Heaven </b>(best Cure cover, bar none), and most ecstatically, <b>Repulsion</b> - and the place is going mad.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Rose-tinted nostalgia it ain't.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> As ten thousand Japanese kids will tell ya, this is fresh, vital and totally cool. What they got here is a whole new ear-splitting FREAK SCENE going on.</span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-56966974239645242852009-07-27T14:13:00.060+09:002015-06-26T10:44:13.590+09:00Instrument of War<div>
<b style="font-family: arial, fantasy;">Fuji Rock 2009</b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy; font-weight: bold;">Patti Smith (Rock)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, fantasy;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363059999462266002" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0MVAnlgX3ALWog8odE5ul2OzquovH9Bd2ExHv9TRlj8xWrUDAZq4HKKSnsgM7gjcWz_NcsYyn7vBmgxkwlIGaDR1ZWyvNe2lZU7RE0GSpn1kMR_-wNloV2pBqlCNA_u0KBzt6iimPeGm/s320/DSC_1184.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; height: 208px; width: 320px;" /></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;">Bob Dylan says th<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">e true artist is always in the process of becoming, and t</span></span></span><span style="font-family: arial;">hat's the case with Patti Smith. I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">n 1977 she was a raw performance artist who channelled bohemian feminism and rock lore to emerge with a blend of quasi-re</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">ligious street poetry and punk rock.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Since then she has continued to produce inspiring music in the face of considerable personal challenges. Now aged 62, looking wise and embattled, she's better than ever.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, fantasy;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, fantasy;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363003832389705618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8kFmWF-eLYJveI64NT3QWvJ6BW7mVlckgTlslWY4v0Lfdv_YhsKeZY5wH1ylJDQ-taAAtTACeU7tRQgFOjuyChgFS8sQ4JlCPhQRJbhA-yYTylLrsbObmuvYV4unu9lfrAM4438LrxrI/s320/DSC_1146.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; height: 205px; width: 320px;" /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;">Patti brings Fuji Rock a powerful message of empowerment, eco-awareness and political action. I think many Japanese women who were not aware of Patti will have been inspired by her energy and call to action.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She takes to the stage smiling and waving at the crowd, raising everyone's spirits in the face of insufferable weather conditions. It's been pouring continuously since the night before but here's Patti to rain love on us all - her humanity and empathy weave a magical spell over a damp but enthusiastic crowd.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The performance starts with </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dancing Barefoot</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, a personal favorite of mine. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It's one of many highlights in a dynamic, spiritual performance alongside classics like </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Because the Night</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">People Have the Power</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and others. T</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">oday is Haile Selassie's birthday, so </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Ghost Dance</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> is dedicated to him. Then an amazing </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Rock 'n' Roll Nigger</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> is dedicated to Michael Jackson.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Patti's band is superb, featuring long-time mainstay Lenny Kaye on guitar and the excellent Tony Shannahan on bass and keyboards. They spur Patti on as she urges the crowd to political and personal action, crying, "The electric guitar is the only instrument of war we need!" </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> For a moment, even I believe it.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy;">We briefly run into Patti at the after-show interview booth, where she is charming and amiable and still calling for her fans to challenge their governments and systems of power - a pretty tall order in Japan. Nevertheless there she is hollering, "We are alone and we are free! The people have the power!"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><b>Patti Smith "Dream of Life" Movie Trailer</b></span></div>
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<object height="360" width="400"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EpKZ2H7CC3s&hl=en&fs=1&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EpKZ2H7CC3s&hl=en&fs=1&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="360"></embed></object>Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5389075104148336176.post-55267441984004295802009-07-27T13:00:00.006+09:002015-06-26T10:45:18.352+09:0021st Century Pop<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Fuji Rock 2009</span></b><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">M83 (Electro-pop)</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">What's that incredible sound coming from the Red Marquee?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">It's French band M83 - named after a distant galaxy - and I'm glad I finally caught up with them because I've been a fan of these electro-shoegazers for years. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">M83's sublime electro-pop is an uplifting and inspiring start to this year's Fuji Rock festival and each song takes me - and about ten thousand other Fujirockers - higher and higher. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">There's an intriguing blend of ambient, dance and experimental sounds in evidence, but M83 have recently veered away from their earlier psychedelic sound to head in a poppier direction.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Their version of </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Don't Save Us from the Flame</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">s is rousing. It sounds like pop for the twenty-first century.</span></div>
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Shiffi Le Soyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15904935889685600168noreply@blogger.com0