8Sided Blog

the scene celebrates itself

Calming

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I’m tip-toeing through the day aided by light, calming music. Quiet tones to drown out the world’s turmoil and the grim news-blasts.

I’m alternating between two albums today. The first is the recent RVNG Intl. edition of Flore Laurentienne’s Volume 1, originally released in 2019 by Costume Records. Described by the press release as “the vessel of Canadian composer Mathieu David Gagnon,” Flore Laurentienne is an artful project based upon subtly texturized string and piano compositions. The tunes on Volume 1 are bright and nourishing, evocative of an incoming dawn’s welcome reset. Ranging from the structured beauty of “Petit Piano” to the sparse organ etude in “1991” (with what sounds like bowed cymbals droning tensely at the midpoint) to the kosmiche synth surprise of “Route” — the album feels warm and breathing, like an organism going through different stages of its life.

Mathieu has stated that the interactions of humans and nature (and their effects on each other) inspired Volume 1, so the organic sheen is intentional. Cementing the association is the alias Flore Laurentienne, named after Canadian botanist (and clergyman) Marie-Victorin Kirouac‘s guide to all species indigenous to southern Quebec.

Though the original release of Volume 1 dates to 2019, this new edition contains a fresh piece, “La fin et le commencement.” The song is quite pretty, using a string section and minimal piano to leisurely mimic the effect of a Shepard tone — that is, a musical progression that gives the illusion of a constant rise in pitch.

❋-❋-❋-❋-❋-❋-❋-❋

The other album I’m turning to today for ‘calmness’ is the soundtrack to After Yang. I saw the movie over the weekend, and though I should rewatch it, I was immediately taken by the score. The music is composed by Aska Matsumiya save for an appearance by the legendary Ryuichi Sakamoto on a piece called “Memory Bank.” 

I recommend playing this album in sequence. However, I’d start with the third track (the video game-inspired “Welcome to Family of 4” is terrific in the movie but devoid of context here), and you’ll find hymn-like melodies and sparkling but restrained instrumentation. Like Flore Laurentienne, the music here has warmth and luminance though Matsumiya’s compositions have a pronounced drifting quality. Even the piano-led songs seem to ‘float away,’ and the stirring “Mizuiro” (featuring múm’s Gyða Valtýsdóttir on cello) is likewise buoyant. As for Sakamoto’s contribution, it says a lot that “Memory Bank” fits snuggly alongside the rest of this score —the song’s strings and piano are a little more pronounced than Matsumiya’s but complement and round out the overall musical intentions with grace.

Isolation Is Their Preferred Place

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It might add comfort in our continuing isolation to watch the stories of people who are isolated by where they choose to live. ‘Choose’ is the key word here — these folks wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.

I watched the documentary Children of the Arctic, described as “a portrait of five Native Alaskan teenagers growing up in Barrow – the northernmost community in the United States.” The town (since renamed Utqiagvik) has unique challenges, including the all-too-apparent effect of climate change on its way of life, a loosening of revered traditions, the months of total darkness, and the depression that overtakes its residents. A couple of the teenagers do leave for a bigger city — but then they come back. What we see as isolation is their preferred place, a home they won’t give up. [LINK]

The next night I watched Darwin, which profiles the 35-strong population of the dying town in Death Valley, California, that gives the film its title. It’s a place where people go to hide, though not necessarily from the law. The mines are long-closed, as is the Black Metal Saloon, but the residents love living in Darwin and sing its praises throughout the documentary’s run-time. [LINK]

The musical score in Children of the Arctic is remarkable — gorgeous and droning and fitting the views of northern lights and snowy vistas. I noticed, in the credits, that Michael Brook is responsible. Then Darwin‘s score also grabbed me, with lonely, far-away guitar riffing and desert-toned passages. I watched the credits and — again! — Michael Brook. What a coincidence, right? Not really, as I realized the same director is responsible for both films: Nick Brandestini. This double-feature was not intentional, and I wasn’t familiar with Brandestini beforehand. But now I’m looking forward to seeing his latest documentary, Sapelo. From the IMDb description — the film takes place on “a unique American island” — it appears to also involve isolation by choice.

Notice How TV Music Is Getting a Lot Cooler?

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In a recent piece, Noisey explores the rise of independent artists working on scores for television programs, such as Julia Holter‘s work on the UK Channel 4 show Pure. Music supervisor Jen Moss explains how the scoring landscape is now a bit more adventurous:

“Things like cable channels and streaming platforms are allowing for slightly more leftfield storytelling and non-traditional narratives and voices,” she explains. “The creatives behind them want to to extend that experimentation into the music as well. So what we’re getting now is a move away from all the orchestral traditional scores you used to tend to get, into soundscapes that are as artful and unique as the visuals they’re accompanying.”

I imagine another factor is that so much content is created now, with even more on the way as new streaming networks from the likes of Disney and Apple appear on the horizon. With all these shows, studios are going to unexpected (and lower budgeted) places to fill composer shoes.

But the odd tone of the article stood out to me:

The trend of indie artists scoring films is finally trickling down to TV. But while on the surface it might appear like a winning arrangement for both artists, TV creators and small screen bingers alike, underneath it reveals a darker truth about how indie musicians are increasingly being forced to diversify in a time of crushingly low streaming platform royalties railroading acts into exhausting cycles of touring.

Weird. Even before streaming, indie musicians would jump at the chance to score for TV. And I don’t think I’ve ever discussed goals with a songwriter or producer without ‘scoring a film or TV show’ coming up. Yes, diversification is essential for musicians in 2019 and non-stop touring sucks. But artists given opportunities to work on television is often considered a golden opportunity, despite streaming’s impact.

🔗→ TV’s ‘Golden Age’ Has an Extra Meaning for Indie Musicians

Hash Brown No Filter

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That’s an actual photo of this morning’s sunrise. For reals. As Kimmy Schmidt says, “Hash brown: no filter.”

I soft-launched the new blog today — which means I let my ‘friends’ know about it on Facebook — with an expanded version of yesterday’s tribute to Pete Shelley. The reaction so far is positive. David even thinks I’ve got a “good blog name.”

I was posting mini-blog posts on Instagram (or, ‘status updates,’ as I was calling them, inspired by Warren Ellis’s experiment) to get warmed up for the daily blogging routine, which I’ll explain tomorrow. Once I get going here I’ll probably stop the Instagram posts — or maybe not? This is a work in progress, and I’m happy to change it day-to-day.

We watched Hereditary. That’s a crazy movie. Crazy good, too. Terrific score by Colin Stetson. I like how its nuttiness is on a slow simmer for most of the movie, and then in the last fifteen minutes the nuttiness pot boils over and messes up the stovetop. It reminds me a lot of Kill List, a movie you should see if you haven’t (and, like Hereditary, best watched without knowing anything about it). Am I the only one who thinks the hidden subtext of Hereditary is a warning about the dangers of smoking bowls in high school?

I got the notion to watch Hereditary because Terry Grant AKA More Ghost Than Man created a Spotify playlist of his favorite modern film score selections. It’s a fantastic listen, from top to bottom:

Here’s a paragraph I like from the article Twenty-Five Years After His Death, Frank Zappa Lives On in Playboy (insert ‘reading it for the articles’ joke here):

Zappa always flirted with Modernist string music, but he really married the form in 1983 with the release of London Symphony Orchestra, Vol. I, his fourth project to employ an orchestra. The album inspired revolutionary recording and editing techniques to take on an orchestra, but when asked if he expected to make any money off the concerts and tapes he flatly said no. “Why then do you do it?” a TV reporter asked him at the time. “I came here to spend money on an English orchestra to record my music so I can take it home and I can listen to it. And if somebody else likes that kind of stuff I will make it available on a record so that they can hear it,” Zappa replied.

I’m not the biggest Frank Zappa fan (his appearance on Crossfire is my favorite work of his), but I have loads of respect for the sentiment of making the music you want to hear, and if someone else comes along who’s into it then bonus time.

I’m obsessing over the look of this blog. That’s what I’ll be doing most of the weekend — working on a blog. The theme is called Alia, and the developer has been a sweetheart, kindly answering my constant questions with helpful nuggets of CSS code. I think this place is looking pretty good so far.