Tuesday 11 January 2011

The Album Concept - The death of the LP in the transition to a digital market

Inspired by this article here, I felt compelled to post it to Facebook to see if anyone else is interested. Tragically, I got interested, and soon realized I'd be saying more than the Facebook Status Update message would allow, and following a small introduction with a long comment or series of sub-comments would likely dissuade discussion. So I'm putting it here for posterity!

The Digital Market and the Evolution of an Industry
I know it's an article about music sales in the UK, but it may well apply globally.

The music industry is changing. This is indisputable, despite the degree of denial the corporate giants of the recording industry exhibit. As an aside, all media is changing, and it's interesting to see how it handles the transition in contrast to how it fared with earlier advancements in technology.

What I rarely see from discussions about the impact of digital media on the recording industry, is the degree to which this will change music itself. Noted in this article, the 'album' is on its' last legs, with the widespread availability of singles through digital distribution at a cost far more affordable than CD or Cassette (both for the consumer and for the producer). This changes the sales trends, the way in which the industry makes money. But what impact will this have on music itself? On what music is produced?

One of my favourite aspects of the album format is the way in which certain tracks that you disregard or discard on the first few plays-through, soon eclipse the other tracks on the album. Songs not released as Singles, songs that don't get frequent radio play, that are superior examples of the artist's work (or truer, less mainstream examples) that nevertheless fail to gain exposure. The way that lesser-known tracks can have more significant meaning or appeal to you, to the peculiarities of your personal taste in music, for whatever reason. Everyone has an example of this, I'm sure, especially considering the constant arguments over music I frequently find myself engaged in! So what does this say for the 'sleeper hits'?
Will we find music becoming catchier but less enduring? Will music that grabs the listener, catchy hooky songs that draw attention but fade from notice, do away with substantive efforts? Artists who produce more disposable singles but less challenging work, will they grow in influence in this transition to the instant selective audience, who will no longer need to even hit the skip button on their iPods? I'm not trying to appear elitist here, I enjoy catchy and entertaining tunes as much as the next punter, I recognize not every piece needs to be a Homeric epic or labour as much pathos as a documentary on the Holocaust. However, I enjoy variety, and the thing I love about albums is the combination of the catchy singles that stand on their own, and the richer depths of album fare. Will the mainstream come to dominate further than it does already? Will artists be less able to slip in unique expressions, will we be less inclined to overcome our initial disdain for the unappreciated tracks? These are things I am curious of.

And then there is the art of crafting an album, to be taken as an expression itself, in the way the pieces are arranged. I enjoy the art of album creation, and with the shift to a singles-driven digital distribution method I fear there will be less impetus to expend the effort on creating a 'sound' about an album, to see it as more than some hodgepodge collection of independent, individual tracks. A loss of a subtle art, perhaps.


Before the Album concept dies, we should hold a Wake for Concept Albums
As an elaboration on that last point, I have to bring up the concept of the Concept Album. Long the domain of pretentious Prog Rockers, Prog Metallers, and indulgent self-fellating indie bands, it's not exclusively performed by these groups and is in fact a practice that is responsible for two of the best CDs I purchased this last year (stupid New Year tripping me up). Namely, 2009's Man on the Moon: The End of Day by Kid Cudi, and 2000's Deltron 3030 by the hip-hop super-group of the same name, headed by Del the Funky Homosapien (the fellow that raps on most of the songs off the Gorillaz' first album). Both are brilliant rap albums of solid songs that tell a story in their complete form. 

Deltron 3030, as noted in the Wikipedia link you'll notice in that last sentence, is a tale of Deltron, a dissenting Mech-Soldier who goes rogue when his Galactic Overlords give him orders he cannot follow in clear conscience. Rebelling and seeking to tear down the corrupt galactic order, Deltron and his companions evade the authorities, deliver a virus to the controlling mind of the overlords' army of robotic warriors, and escape in time to battle in and win the Intergalactic Rap Battle, it's instupituous! It is a work of lyrical extravagance, and is almost unique in the rap genre, being a progressive hip-hop space opera with overtones of The 5th Element and popular anime sci-fi, with a humorous tongue and an awareness of its own incongruous unconventionality.

Cudi's work is a more introspective piece, and as an actual concept album, fits together a lot smoother despite the less evident premise in the individual tracks. Overall, Man on the Moon: The End of Day is the internal dialogue of Kid Cudi's struggle with his own demons and doubts, a dark cloud of 'night terrors' that plague his ultimately indomitable drive to succeed. After a lacklustre introduction capped with a pretentious hype-show to signal that this is the story of Cudi's success, and how important it is in the context of the first decade of the Millenium, the album progresses to an exploration of Cudi's mind and personal history. 
The second track, Soundtrack 2 my Life, is an appraisal of the emotional burdens he carries around that keep him distant from the world, replete with a sense of isolation and introversion, of coaxing forward things long hidden from the world but ever-present. The bouncy third track Simple As is largely inconsequential insofar as message goes, beyond its place setting up the structure of the Acts of the album, each Act starting with a dark or morbid, ambient or haunted track, through a reflective and determined or driven track, to a brighter and uplifted conclusion. If Simple As has a message, it is simply that of an acknowledgement that one has no place to truly belong, and instead is set to carve out some new ground to be 'attached' to. 
Solo Dolo is the beginning of the 'night terrors', where Cudi loses the ability to distinguish between reality and the darkness of his dreams, with a nihilistic feel, set adrift in his own mind with no recourse to act. Heart of a Lion and My World are the most driven tracks on the album, the 'hard work' elements still following the convention of each Act. They're more bitter, more cynical, and more resolved than any other tracks on the album... they have a lot of spine but they don't exactly leap with verve and vitality. 
The next nightmare track is the stand-out single Day'n'Nite, a good track to listen to when you're feeling disconnected and somewhat alone. Very reflective. Sky Might Fall and Enter Galactic are the weakest tracks on the album, and personally I can only justify their existence by the structure of the Acts on the album (okay, that's a little harsh, and Sky Might Fall has at least some depth to it, but they're still difficult to muster the enthusiasm to write about). 
Alive is where it starts getting fun again, the third 'nightmare' track on the album (the nightmare tracks are certainly the strongest, to my mind), with a subtle sexual atmosphere to it, perhaps a darker reflection on desire, but entertaining all the same. The preceding may be a bit too revealing of my own occasional mindset, but so be it. Cudi Zone is a hymn to the virtues of getting high and forgetting about the world, and seeking a safety net of good friends and good relationships. Perhaps there is wisdom here. Then of course, there's the chart-friendly collaboration, Make Her Say, featuring Kanye West and Common, and sampling Lady Gaga, the lighter and more flirtatious counterpoint to the darker lusts of Alive.  
Pursuit of Happiness is one of my favourite tracks on the album, and the video captures perfectly the feel of the entire album: a complete disconnect from the social existence around you, the ability to find yourself completely alone in a crowd, lost inside your own head and far, far gone from the world around you. The blurry, insular stage of late intoxication, the come-down when the party dies, with a quiet strain of contentment like a lifeline tether clutched lackadaisically in your drunken lethargy. I'm on the pursuit of happiness, I know everything that shine ain't always gold, I'll be fine, once I get it, I'll be good. Hyyerr is the wake&bake track, after the darkness of the previous night, after the regret and mourning, it is the relaxation and contentment of letting go. After bearing witness to the darkness of the first Act, experiencing the resolve of the second, facing his demons alone in the third act, confronting his desires in the fourth, and purging himself and letting go in the beginning of the fifth Act, Cudi is free of his burden and rounds off his album with the eminently uplifting track, Up Up & Away. The track has a sense of possibility and new beginning to it, a more grounded perspective with a strong sense of optimism, with the strength of Heart of a Lion and My World but without the bitterness.
The course of the album is engaging, engrossing, and ultimately uplifting, and the whole work is far more compelling than any individual part. I wonder if this sort of production will remain popular if albums diminish further, if there is as much value seen in a comprehensive work as there can be seen in individual lucrative releases? I hope artists remain pretentious enough to manage their overarching works rather than capitulating to the dominance of single tracks ;)

Friday 7 January 2011

University Musical, une part: The Magic Schoolbus

2011, first week of January, and I find myself back at school. My holiday* disappeared as abruptly as it arrived, no doubt evaporating and serving as the cause of Auckland's famed humidity, and I'm back at the grindstone as a working Uni student seeking to better himself and prepare himself for more profitable employment. Summer School is a peculiar experience, and working every day while studying, and therefore needing to wear formal black trousers around campus in the height of Summer, may wear thin pretty fast. But at least nothing clashes with the Big Day Out. If it had, I'd be forced to choke a bitch.

*Holiday: That period of time where university doesn't get in the way of my manager's desire to have me spend every waking hour at work

So today was my second day back. Due to the electrification of the Auckland rail network, 'rail bus' services have replaced the more direct and more frequent train service. I've had the pleasure of travelling via rail bus on three occasions thus far, and it turns out they're less magic bus and more tragic bus.

Lost in Space: A Two-Hour Odyssey
To Boldly Go where the Bus Driver had Never Gone Before

Today was quite entertaining, provided you're entertained by profound incompetence. It became readily apparent less than five minutes into our trip that our driver had not a clue of what he was doing. Here is a visual aid to put everything into perspective

Our driver was to travel from Papakura to Auckland City. He decided this would be best achieved via Drury. To be explicit, Auckland is North, Drury is South. After this point, the driver missed the entrance to the rather large and obvious Manurewa transport hub... and decided to reverse back to it on a very busy street. After leaving the Manurewa pick-up, our driver took a right turn a street before he was supposed to, turning into the Russell Ave Reserve, driving the wrong way on a one-way street for good measure. However, I did learn of the existence of a flying-fox/zipline there, and immediately questioned whether I should be going to school at all today. Having corrected his error and returning to the main road, our driver drove past the street he was intending, with the very large and obvious bridge over the railway lines, in order to turn into a tiny, dingy little lane immediately following his intended turn. By this point our ticket collector was playing navigator to an obviously lost and distraught bus driver. How he actually managed to find his way to Papakura in the first place will forever remain a constant, nagging mystery to me.

Papakura is roughly half an hour, generously 45 minutes from Auckland City, by car. By train, with frequent stops, it is just shy of a full hour of travel. I gave myself two hours to get to Uni via rail-bus. I arrived for class five minutes late.
This looks promising.

A Bad Sign
The return journey was much quicker, as our driver knew pretty much where she was going. Unfortunately, where she was going was occupied by a roundabout and a large metal Keep Left sign, that she demolished in a screeching cacophony that sounded like Megatron forcefully loving the Wall Street Bull. There was a peculiar noise coming from the wheel that had made the most contact with the sign all the way home, and the ride had a more rough and shuddering quality to it after that little incident.

Next week I'm expecting either suicide bombers, or Mexican hijackers. Either that or the bus will be full of Law students, and immediately crash into Auckland harbour so Arts students can call it 'A good start'.

More misadventures as they occur!