All posts by Thaddeus Wert

High school math teacher and fan of all kinds of music, but most of all prog.
Adventure, LITERATURE

Silver and the Sunday Cypher: A Fun Thriller

After slogging my way through the enjoyable but lengthy Bleak House, I decided to pick up a new book that Amazon’s algorithm recommended to me: Jack Gatland’s Silver and the Sunday Cypher. It turned out to be the perfect follow-up to a relatively dark Victorian masterpiece.

Silver and the Sunday Cypher is a fun and fast-paced thriller that features 64-year-old widow, Laura Carlyle, who is thrust into a cloak and dagger world of secret societies, murder, espionage, and international diplomacy. It begins with the assassination by poisoning of Harry Farrell in broad daylight in front of a London church. Farrell has been compiling a dossier on a shadowy group that is called The Calendar. Its members go by days of the week (shades of G. K. Chesterton’s The Man Who Was Thursday), with a mysterious “Mr. Sunday” at the top of The Calendar’s hierarchy.

To continue reading, click here.

LITERATURE

Dickens’ Bleak House: One of His Best

Almost thirty years ago, I picked up Charles Dickens’ first novel, The Pickwick Papers, more out of curiosity than anything, and immediately fell in love with it. I went ahead and spent the better part of a year reading all of his novels in the order of publication. Since then, I’ve reread Pickwick and his final complete novel, Our Mutual Friend, but not any others. I know that Bleak House often tops people’s lists of The Best Dickens Novels, and when I first read it, I thought it was very good, but not one of his best. I decided to give it another chance, and, once again, I find that I have a much greater appreciation for a book now that I am older.

You can read the rest of my review here.

Music

Lifesigns Live In The Netherlands: Instantly Classic Prog

The British group, Lifesigns, released a 2-disc live album recorded in the Netherlands back in 2023. Brad and Tad have a conversation about why this is a fantastic live album and why Lifesigns is a fantastic group.

Tad: Brad, I’m so glad you suggested we review this album. It’s been out a couple of years, but it didn’t get the attention it deserves. I became a fan of Lifesigns when they released Altitude in 2021, which was one of my favorite albums of that year. Live In The Netherlands features live renditions of almost that entire album, which is definitely a plus!

On listening to it, I am impressed with how well they replicate the studio versions of the songs, while adding a lot of energy. 

Brad: Thanks so much, Tad.  From what I can tell, Lifesigns is pretty huge in Europe but just does get enough attention here in the U.S.  Our loss!  Back when we were at Progarchy, John Young got ahold of me and let me know about Lifesigns.  I knew about Young, of course–he’s a huge name in the prog and rock worlds–and I was honored, to be sure, to communicate with him.  He’s not only a gentleman, but I believe he is truly a good, good soul.  And, obviously, what a talent.  So, I’ve been proudly following Lifesigns from the beginning, being introduced to them with their first amazing album, the self titled Lifesigns.  

My first and lasting impression of that album is that it’s one of prog joy, much more closely related to, say, a Transatlantic album, than, say, Storm Corrosion.  There’s a real beauty as well as real innocence to the music that I deeply admire.  

When I say it’s related to Transatlantic, I don’t mean in sound, but in atmosphere.  While I wouldn’t call Lifesigns a Christian band, I would say they’re most certainly not adverse to Christianity and all it entails.  And, the fact that the openly Christian Dave Bainbridge is now a part of the band certainly doesn’t hurt this reputation.  It’s definitely not an in-your-face Christianity like some of Neal Morse’s work tends to be, but rather music and lyrics inspired by Christianity.  Again, the best way I can explain it is that Lifesigns radiates joy.

There’s also something humorous about what I just said.  When I became Facebook friends with John Young, back in 2013, I also became friends with the first bassist of the band, Nick Beggs.  Beggs, of course, is well known in the prog world, especially given his work with Steven Wilson.  Almost immediately after I became friends with Beggs, he posted a number of pictures of himself in the buff.  I will admit, I was utterly shocked and, in no uncertain terms, made my horror quite plain on social media!  Ha.  There’s a puritan streak in me, to be sure.  Young, however, gently reprimanded Beggs and suggested this might not be the best way to introduce the band to the public.  It all turned out well.

Tad: Brad, that is hilarious! Beggs is definitely a prankster, but he is an amazingly talented bassist.

Let’s talk about Lifesign’s Live In The Netherlands. It features an excellent playlist, with the first half of the show devoted to old favorites like “N” and “At the End of the World”. It’s the second half that really gets me excited, where they perform the entire Altitude album. They are an incredibly tight unit, and Dave Bainbridge really shines on guitar.

Like you, Altitude was a favorite of mine the year it came out, and I immediately picked up all of their other albums. I still think Altitude is their best, but they haven’t released a weak album to date. I love the title track, which runs a generous 15:49, but never lags. John Young does a fantastic job on keyboards and vocals. “Last One Home” is one of my all-time favorite songs, regardless of genre. I think it is just beautiful in its perfect melding of song and lyrics. The version on Live In The Netherlands is outstanding, with Bainbridge turning in a wonderful guitar solo reminiscent of Gilmour at his best. 

It’s interesting you find Lifesigns reminding you of Transatlantic, and I can certainly hear that in terms of atmosphere, as you say. When I listen to Lifesigns, I am reminded of the classic prog band, UK – especially their eponymous debut album that featured Alan Holdsworth on guitar. I think it’s because Young’s vocals remind me of the late, great John Wetton’s. Also, Young’s melodies have a way of turning a phrase that brings to mind late ‘70s prog. 

Anyway, I think for someone who enjoys melodic and uplifting prog, Lifesigns is hard to beat, and Live In The Netherlands is the perfect introduction to their music. It covers the best songs from their first two albums as well as including an excellent performance of their complete third album. Lifesigns doesn’t have much music on the streaming services, so I encourage people to support them by buying hard copies of their albums. 

Brad: Tad, what a great analysis.  I’d not thought of Lifesigns resembling late 1970s proggers like UK.  Now that you’ve said that, I can’t unsee it.  I think you’re absolutely right.  Maybe John Young has a particular 1970s sound that I’ve never quite realized. 

Again, for me, it’s best summed up as “joy” rather than overly precious or overly intricate or overly self-involved.  For whatever reason, John Young and his music inspires me to be a better person, to approach my own art with a love of life and a gratitude for all that made my own life possible.  Hence, I think of it as being Christian adjacent rather than out and out Christian.  Again, we know Bainbridge’s Christianity, but if someone told me that Young was also serious about his faith, I wouldn’t be surprised.

And agreed, Lifesign’s three (only three!) studio albums are all excellent, and I very much love the two live releases.  I suppose, if pushed, I would say that Lifesigns (the debut album from 2013) is my favorite, only because it was my introduction to them.  In terms of quality of music and lyrics and vocals, I would rank all three equally.  Again, this music just makes me want to be a better person. 

We haven’t explicitly mentioned Cardington, and I would like to praise that album as well for being every bit the equal of Lifesigns and Altitude.

If I had one complaint, it would be that I want more Lifesigns music!  Call me greedy, but I would love more than three albums over a decade.  Still, I’m sure that John has a ton of things going on, so I’m deeply appreciative of what we do have.

Though I’d not thought of this as having a late 1970s sound until you mentioned it, I would love for more prog to have this feel and atmosphere to it.  There are a hundred Radiohead and Porcupine Tree inspired bands, where are the John Young inspired bands?  I would love more of this kind of music: classy and classic, beautifully constructed, and majestically orchestrated.  The lyrics are perfect and compelling as is the music itself.

For me, Tad, Live in the Netherlands perfectly captures all of this.  Indeed, in terms of sound quality, I’m especially impressed, as the live album sounds just like the studio release, despite being in an uncontrolled environment.  I love the first set of older material and the second set of newer material.  My only complaint is that all of the banter has been removed from the live release.  I’m sure that John spoke to the audience, and I would love to know what he had to say.  Specifically, given what a gentleman he is, I’m sure that he’s an excellent frontman.

John, Jon, Steve, Frank, and Dave: if you’re reading this, please know that you are loved, and my desire to have more music from you is meant in the best possible way.  Thank you, hugely, for everything you’ve given us already.  Now, we just need to get all Americans to listen to you. . . .

Tad: From your keyboard to John Young’s ears, Brad! Yes, I wish they released more music, because the contemporary music scene needs more like it. And, dear readers, you can find all of Lifesigns’ music and merchandise at https://lifesignsmusic.co.uk/. Check them out!

LITERATURE

The Hank Show: The End of Privacy

I was born in 1961, so a little more than half of my life was pre-internet (for me, the internet really began in 1995, when a new piece of software called Netscape was introduced). I remember how amazing email was before spammers got going, how fun the early “world-wide web” was, and how interesting and informative various bloggers were before Facebook, Twitter, and Google showed up and took over. There weren’t adblockers in the late 90s, because there weren’t many ads. I remember how furious we websurfers got when it was revealed that websites had these things called “cookies” that were sent to your browser, so they could track your history. What an invasion of privacy!

Those concerns seem quaint now. My daughter was born in 1994, and she has really not known any time when she couldn’t go online. She also knows that she has no privacy, and she goes on the internet with the expectation that everything she emails, posts on social media, and buys is seen and logged by someone or something. McKenzie Funk’s book, The Hank Show, is a biography of the man he holds responsible for first exploiting the financial potential of Big Data.

To continue reading, click here.

LITERATURE

Raymond Chandler’s The Little Sister

I’ve become a big fan of Raymond Chandler’s hard-boiled novels featuring his private eye, Philip Marlowe. I previously reviewed his fourth book, The Lady In The Lake, and The Little Sister, published in 1949, continues Chandler’s bleak and disillusioned perspective on the seamy side of Los Angeles and its surrounding towns. 

It opens with Marlowe alone in his office, when a woman calls him on the phone, asking him to find her missing brother. He insists on seeing her in person, which she resists, but eventually gives in. She is Orfamay Quest, and, as Marlowe describes her, 

She was a small, neat, rather prissy-looking girl with primly smooth brown hair and rimless glasses.
RAYMOND CHANDLER. The Little Sister (Kindle Locations 229-230). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

She has come all the way out to California from Manhattan, Kansas, because her brother, Orrin – who, she assures Marlowe, would never get into any kind of trouble – stopped sending weekly letters to her and their mother. Marlowe is naturally suspicious of Orfamay’s story, but he agrees to take on her case for twenty dollars. 

What follows is a very complicated situation involving mobsters from Cleveland, corrupt cops, Hollywood B-listers, a doctor who supplies them with drugs, and a murderer who likes to kill by stabbing his (or her) victims in the neck with an ice pick. Suffice it to say that no one is particularly innocent and Marlowe’s natural cynicism is fully justified. 

And yet, even in the most dangerous and tempting circumstances, Marlowe clings to his code of honor: refusing to take bribes, stating the truth to the police even when it puts himself in danger, and resisting the blandishments of a beautiful Hollywood actress. He knows he won’t get rewarded for his virtue, but like a medieval knight pledged to behave chivalrously, he never gives in.

As in The Lady In The Lake, one of my favorite ingredients of Chandler’s style is his deadpan humor. Here are a few examples:

I got my wallet out and handed him one of my business cards. He read it thoughtfully and tapped the edge against his porcelain crown.
“He coulda went somewhere without telling me,” he mused.
“Your grammar,” I said, “is almost as loose as your toupee.”
“You lay off my toupee, if you know what’s good for you,” he shouted.
“I wasn’t going to eat it,” I said. “I’m not that hungry.”
He took a step towards me, and dropped his right shoulder. A scowl of fury dropped his lip almost as far.
“Don’t hit me. I’m insured,” I told him.
“Oh hell. Just another screwball.” He shrugged and put his lip back up on his face.
RAYMOND CHANDLER. The Little Sister (Kindle Locations 571-577). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

A fat man in sky-blue pants was closing the door with that beautiful leisure only fat men ever achieve. He wasn’t alone, but I looked at him first. He was a large man and wide. Not young nor handsome, but he looked durable. Above the sky-blue gabardine slacks he wore a two-tone leisure jacket which would have been revolting on a zebra. The neck of his canary-yellow shirt was open wide, which it had to be if his neck was going to get out. He was hatless and his large head was decorated with a reasonable amount of pale salmon-colored hair. His nose had been broken but well set and it hadn’t been a collector’s item in the first place.
RAYMOND CHANDLER. The Little Sister (Kindle Locations 1364-1368). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

The boss mortician fluttered around making elegant little gestures and body movements as graceful as a Chopin ending. His composed gray face was long enough to wrap twice around his neck.
RAYMOND CHANDLER. The Little Sister (Kindle Locations 2162-2163). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

And, of course, there are plenty of wonderfully descriptive similes to set the mood:

Her voice was as cool as boarding-house soup.
RAYMOND CHANDLER. The Little Sister (Kindle Location 683). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

She had a low lingering voice with a sort of moist caress in it like a damp bath towel.
RAYMOND CHANDLER. The Little Sister (Kindle Locations 795-796). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

I smelled Los Angeles before I got to it. It smelled stale and old like a living room that had been closed too long.
RAYMOND CHANDLER. The Little Sister (Kindle Locations 1338-1339). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

I took the wrinkles out of my lips and said aloud:
“Hello again. Anybody here needing a detective?”
Nothing answered me, not even a stand-in for an echo. The sound of my voice fell on silence like a tired head on a swansdown pillow.
RAYMOND CHANDLER. The Little Sister (Kindle Locations 2985-2987). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

Either you love this stuff, or you don’t. I think it’s great – despite Marlowe’s world-weariness, he loves LA and the losers who populate its seediest neighborhoods. He knows one man can’t make much difference in the world, but he never gives up trying.

Chandler wrote The Little Sister after he had had some very frustrating experiences as a screenwriter in Hollywood, and his contempt for Tinseltown is as clear as a bell. (Or maybe like “two dead fish in the silt at the bottom of a drained pool”, to borrow a simile!) The plot is difficult to unravel at times, and just when I thought I had things figured out, he throws a curveball to surprise. That said, the ending is very good, and I would rank The Little Sister as one of Chandler’s best. 

Music

Kevin Keller’s Arcadia – 37 Minutes of Musical Joy

Close shot of sun at sunset, Brussels, Belgium

I’ve been writing the praises of contemporary composer Kevin Keller for years now. It has been fascinating to see his evolution from an extremely talented “ambient” composer/musician into one of the most vital and engaging classical music composers in America.

Keller’s Evensong, which was released in 2023, was a beautiful set of chamber choir pieces. He has just released its sequel, Arcadia, which primarily features the vocals of Sofia Campoamor, backed by a small choir and piano with string trio. As is usual with Keller, he augments this traditional musical setting with discreet and tasteful electronic touches. There simply is no other contemporary composer who can combine ancient musical styles and instrumentation with 21st century electronics as skillfully and satisfyingly as Kevin Keller.

All of the songs in Arcadia are sung in Latin, which creates a reverent and calming atmosphere throughout. The opening track, Arcadia 1, is “Et Vidi Caelum” (“And I Saw the Sky”). Hushed acapella vocals begin the song and are soon joined by various acoustic and electronic instruments. As the melody develops slowly and deliberately, the listener is transported into a state of bliss. I know I’m sounding hyperbolic, but this is some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. The only thing I can compare it to is Thomas Tallis’ “Spem In Alium” or some of J. S. Bach’s fugues.

The second track, “Et Nox Ultra” (“And Night Is Over”) is a sprightly and wordless chant with a rhythmic bed of synths. It is full of anticipation for a new day. Arcadia 3, “Me Solum Me Invenio” (“I find myself alone”) is, appropriately, sung by Ms. Campoamor solo while accompanied by Keller on organ.

Kevin Keller and Sofia Campoamor

In Arcadia 4, “In Tenebris” (“In darkness”), the choir returns to sing a gentle lullaby accompanied by piano and string trio. As this song progresses, it becomes more insistent in its rhythm, but it maintains its control. It is one of the longer tracks at 6:22, and there is a beautiful, long coda that brings it to rest.

Arcadia 5 is “Mare, Littus, Flammam” (“Sea, Shore, Flame”), and you can hear waves gently washing ashore as Ms. Campoamor sings a melody that, to my ears, is full of longing. Her vocal is supported by a cello and soft electronics.

My favorite track is Arcadia 6: “In Equo Fugit” (“She flees on horseback”). It is introduced by a gentle pulse that is soon joined by the choir who sing an extraordinarily beautiful melody. I’m having a hard time conveying how delightful Keller’s music is here – it really is ineffable!

The final two tracks are “Et Lux Perpetua” (“And Eternal Light”) and “Veni Intus” (“Come Inside”) They bring our journey to a close with a very satisfying sense of returning to the comfort of a beloved sanctuary.

There is something very timely about the art Keller is creating these days. We live in such contentious times, which are exacerbated by social and news media.  Arcadia is a balm for the souls of people who need a respite from the 24/7 anxiety that our contemporary culture has a tendency to induce.

Spending 37 minutes listening to Kevin Keller’s Arcadia  is a great way to reset oneself – it is restorative and reminds us that true beauty still exists. I admire how Keller utilizes centuries-old forms of music to compose and perform new and refreshing music. He recognizes the precious worth of classic art, while building on it and adding his unique and immediately recognizable style. Here’s hoping Arcadia sparks a renaissance in contemporary classical music. Keller is planting a seed that promises to bear fruit to a world that is starved for music with lasting substance and beauty.

Arcadia is produced and performed by Kevin Keller. Sofia Campoamor sings lead vocals, while Katherine Wessinger, Danya Katok, and Wendy Baker form the choir. Sarah Zun plays violin, Angela Pickett viola, and Laura Metcalf cello.

You can purchase Arcadia at https://www.kevinkeller.com/arcadia.

LITERATURE

Cather’s Death Comes For The Archbishop: A Good and Faithful Servant

I enjoyed Willa Cather’s My Antonia so much, I immediately started reading her Death Comes For The Archbishop. They are completely unrelated to each other, except they are both concerned with how people lived on the frontier of nineteenth century America. Death Comes For The Archbishop is set in the mid-1800s in the new territory of New Mexico. A young Roman Catholic priest, Jean Marie Latour, has been named bishop to this enormous, wild, and mostly lawless area of the southwest. He sets up his base in the small settlement of Santa Fe. 

From the title, one might think this is a mystery novel, but it is not that at all! Rather, it is the story of how two Roman Catholic missionaries from France serve various peoples with grace, sensitivity, and love. Latour’s best friend, Father Joseph Vaillant, accompanies him in his new placement. They first met in seminary in Clermont, France, and became fast friends, even though they are almost polar opposites. Physically, Fr. Vaillant is short, unattractive, and full of restless energy. Fr. Latour is tall, handsome, graceful and intellectual. Where there is a spiritual need, Vaillant wants to rush in to address it, while Latour tends to observe, take stock of the situation, and consider the long game.

Cather makes the point that these two approaches complement each other, and both are necessary for effective ministry (I owe this insight to Joel Miller’s excellent review of Death Comes For The Archbishop on his Substack, Miller’s Book Reviews.) The ministry Latour and Vaillant are assigned is daunting to say the least: a huge territory that encompasses most of what is now Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado. There are villages of Catholics that have not seen a priest in years. Men and women have paired up, without being married. Their children have not been baptized. 

Another pressing issue is Father Martinez of Taos, a very powerful and corrupt priest who refuses to recognize the authority of Bishop Latour. When Latour visits him, he flaunts his women and children and asserts that celibacy can no longer be enforced. He is also responsible for inciting a raid on the new American authorities where several men and women were brutally slaughtered by natives. As the famous Kit Carson relates to Latour, 

Our Padre Martinez at Taos is an old scapegrace, if ever there was one; he’s got children  and grandchildren in almost every settlement around here.
(Location 855, Standard ebooks edition)

Martinez tries to set up a schismatic church, but rather than force the issue, as Vaillant urges, Latour chooses to let Martinez slowly lose influence and followers as the true Church reasserts itself in the region.

While reading Death Comes For The Archbishop, I was impressed with the efforts these French Catholics take to serve their parishioners. They traveled literally thousands of miles on horseback through some of the most inhospitable land on earth. Often, there were no roads, let alone any maps, and every trip was life-threatening. And yet, Latour’s and Vaillant’s love for their flock enabled them to effectively administer to a diocese that was thousands of square miles in size.

One of Latour’s most impressive qualities is his ability to connect with wildly different groups of people. He relates to the lowliest Mexicans in his diocese, the wealthy landowners, and the various indigenous peoples like the Hopis and the Navajo. He forges deep friendships with members of all these constituencies. As far as the Native Americans go, he respects their traditions and doesn’t try to make them “European”. There is one fascinating chapter where he and his Indian guide, Jacinto, get caught in a deadly snowstorm. Jacinto manages to reach shelter in a cave. There is something about the cave that immediately causes Latour much discomfort. Jacinto tells Latour he must never reveal that he has been in this cave. He sees Jacinto carefully fill in a hole in the wall from which a stench is issuing. Latour is aware of tales that Jacinto’s tribe has offered human sacrifices to a “giant serpent” who lives in the mountain. However, once again, Latour doesn’t press the issue, and we never learn just what it is that causes Latour his distress.

Vaillant feels called to go to believers in Arizona, and there is constant tension between Latour’s desire to have his best friend nearby and allowing him to satisfy his calling. As the novel progresses, both men see the hand of God in the decisions they make. Early on, there’s an interesting conversation between them about the Virgin of Guadalupe:

“Where there is great love there are always miracles,” he [Latour] said at length. “One might almost say that an apparition is human vision corrected by divine love. I do not see you as you really are, Joseph, I see you through my affection for you. The Miracles of the Church seem to me to rest not so much upon faces or voices or healing power coming suddenly near to us from afar off, but upon our perceptions being made finer, so that for a moment our eyes can see and our ears can hear what is there about us always.”
(Location 572, Standard Ebooks edition)

Just like in My Antonia, Cather does a masterful job of describing the beauty of the southwest desert. She truly is a visual artist whose medium is words:

The sky was as full of motion and change as the desert beneath it was monotonous and still – and there was so much sky, more than at sea, more than anywhere else in the world. The plain was there, under one’s feet, but what one saw when one looked about was that brilliant blue world of stinging air and moving cloud. Even the mountains were mere anthills under it. Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world; but here the earth was the floor of the sky. The landscape one longed for when one was far away, the thing all about one, the world one actually lived in, was the sky, the sky!
(Location 224, Standard Ebooks edition)

As the title says, death does eventually come for Archbishop Latour, but not before we have an opportunity to reflect on a life well-lived. He served God and the Church to the best of his ability, and he left an extraordinary legacy in the wild expanse of southwest America. I’m not a Roman Catholic, but this book made me profoundly grateful for the unsung heroes of that Church who risked everything to bring the Faith to the most inaccessible areas of the world. Cather’s novel is a beautiful tribute to them.

Music

A Debate On Depeche Mode

Greetings, Spirit of Cecilia readers! In this post, Brad Birzer and Tad Wert discuss a musical artist that may surprise you: Depeche Mode. These boys from Basildon, England burst on the scene in 1981 with the bouncy synthpop hit, “Just Can’t Get Enough”, and their first album, Speak and Spell, was a big hit. At the time, they seemed to be just one among many British synthpop groups that were popular due to MTV exposure in the US. Vince Clarke was their songwriter and synthplayer, while Martin Gore and Andrew Fletcher also handled synths and Dave Gahan provided vocals. They were famous for performing live without any guitars or drums. They also appeared to be doomed to “one-hit wonder” status when leader Vince Clarke left immediately following Speak and Spell. However, they had a secret weapon in Martin Gore, who stepped up and began writing songs. After the tentative album A Broken Frame was released, they added multitalented Alan Wilder to the lineup and released their first really great album, Construction Time Again, which contained the massive hit, “Everything Counts”. 

Depeche Mode has ended up outlasting all of their ‘80s synthpop peers, releasing music of surprising depth and beauty despite suffering trials that would end most artists’ careers: Alan Wilder left in frustration after Songs of Faith and Devotion, Dave Gahan survived a near-death experience from a heroin overdose, and Andrew Fletcher passed away in 2022. And yet, Gore and Gahan continue to release new music, and they remain an outstanding live act. 

Brad, I think you wanted to focus on later-era Depeche Mode, beginning with Black Celebration. Kick off the discussion!

Brad: Hello, Tad!  My friend, my colleague, my writing partner, my fellow progling.  Always great to dialogue with you.  

Ok, I admit, I’m pretty uninformed when it comes to Depeche Mode.  Of course, I’m familiar with them–as any child of the 1980s would be–but I don’t know them, really know them!  That is, whereas I knew everything there was to know about Rush or Talk Talk or, later, Big Big Train, I know next to nothing about the band.  I didn’t study their history or analyze their lyrics to any great degree. That is, I never obsessed over the band or considered them “my band.”  They evoked in me some fascination rather than loyalty.  And, when I did look them up prepping for this discussion, I find that they consider themselves Marxists.  Not a winning point for me, to be sure.

That said, in high school, I was rather taken with Black Celebration (the lyrics still resonate with me, and I very much like the production and the flow of the songs–all of which struck me, at the time, as rather proggy), though I’ve not listened to it in years–though I am now as I’m typing this.  I also bought Music for the Masses, which I appreciated but didn’t love.  And, like almost everyone our age, I had a copy of 101.  From my memory, everyone owned Black Celebration and, even more so, 101.  They were just a standard part of one’s music collection at the time.

Before I get to Songs of Faith and Devotion, let me just note that I’m very much enjoying my re-listen to Black Celebration as I type all of this.  It’s been years and years since I last heard it. I had forgotten that the songs really bleed one into another which is something I always appreciate.  And, even though this album dates back to 1986, the production and engineering is impeccable.  And, again, my memory did not deceive me–this is a very proggy album.  Even the second track, Fly on the Windscreen, seems to reference Peter-Gabriel Era Genesis.  Even the fourth track, the Gospel-tinged “Sometimes,” seems like a fragment, much like Yes’s “White Car” does on Drama.  A pop album would’ve never taken a risk like that.  Track number five, “It Doesn’t Matter Two,” sounds very much like Trevor Horn produced it.

Then, side two begins with the sixth track, “A Question of Time,” a brilliant track musically, but with very disturbing lyrics.  Track seven, “Stripped,” while again quite disturbing in its lyrics, is quite proggy in its dirge-like drive.  It merges quite nicely into a poppy eighth track, “Here is the House.”  The ninth track, “World Full of Nothing,” one against quite innovative musically, is deeply disturbing lyrically–a song about the loss of sexual innocence.  “Dressed in Black,” track 10, is about lust, and track 11, the final track, “New Dress,” is about social conformity and celebrity adoration and rather humorous in its scathing cultural critique.

Tad, what can I say?  I’m glad to have returned to Black Celebration, an album of fascinating music and deeply disturbing lyrics.  Because of the lyrics, I probably won’t return to this album again anytime soon.

Tad: Yes, Brad, I agree – there is always tension between the wonderful melodies Martin Gore conjures up and his very dark lyrics. I was not aware that they consider themselves Marxists – hopefully that was a youthful phase that they outgrew! 

As I’ve mentioned before, for me personally, lyrics take second place behind music. However, there are times when the darkness of Gore’s lyrics are unavoidable (“Blasphemous Rumours” being the most obvious example). I have all of Depeche Mode’s albums, and Black Celebration has never been high on my list. Your pointing out its proggy aspects has piqued my interest, however, and I am listening to it now as I write. 

“Stripped” has always been my favorite song from this album – the music itself is very stripped-down, and the tune is quite simple and arresting. I think Gahan’s and Gore’s vocals work together beautifully, and I love the way the production gradually adds layers of sound, while that clanking rhythm track never lets up. It also contains a great line that has turned out to be extremely prescient:

“Let me hear you make decisions without your television

Let me hear you speaking just for me”

Replace “television” with “social media” and you have our current culture nailed.

Black Celebration was followed by one of my favorite albums of theirs – Music For The Masses. The opening track, “Never Let Me Down” is probably my all-time favorite song. The opening hook is simply incredible, and I never tire of hearing it. Also, this is the album Martin decided to branch out and play some guitar! It’s interesting how incorporating that instrument immediately adds warmth to their music.

“Sacred” is a very nice song where Gore uses ecclesiastical images and metaphors to illustrate his love for someone. I think this is the album where Alan Wilder came into his own as far as contributing to the overall sound. Every song is chock-full of interesting samples (and sometimes perverse ones, like the wheezing accordion that opens “I Want You Now”!) and the array of synth sounds is employed in a more orchestral manner. “To Have and To Hold” is one of the most menacing and claustrophobic tracks they ever recorded, and it makes the more open and melodic “Nothing” a positive relief, despite the utter nihilism of the lyrics. And, again, there’s some really nice guitar work in “Nothing”. Overall, I think Music For The Masses is their strongest album to this point, even with the inclusion of the now-cringy “Little 15”.

Another reason I like MFTM is it was the album behind the tour documented in the 101 film. I love this movie! It captures mid-80s America very well. What I like most about it is that it doesn’t take itself seriously. There is a lot of humor throughout, and the footage from the final concert at the Rose Bowl is absolutely stunning. It makes it clear why Depeche Mode was such a popular band, even though they got relatively little airplay on the radio in the US. They put on an incredible show and earned their fans through touring.

On a side note, there is a scene in 101 where they go shopping on Lower Broad in my hometown of Nashville, and the sight of a leather-clad bleached-blonde Martin Gore buying country music cassettes in Ernest Tubb’s record store cracks me up every time! The sweet little lady cashier doesn’t bat an eye at him as she informs him that they can ship music all over the world.

Following Music For The Masses was the album that turned Depeche Mode into massively huge international stars – Violator. Do you have only thoughts on that one, my friend?

Brad: Tad, I’m so sorry, I really, really dislike Violator, so I’m probably not the one to review it.  I heard it when it first came out, and I thought it was ok.  Listening now, however, to it is, for me, painful.  I very much dislike “Personal Jesus,” “Enjoy the Silence,” and “Policy of Truth.”  I especially dislike the kind of spoken rather than sung lyrics, and I really dislike the lyrics, overall.  The only song I like–and I do like it quite a bit, musically–is “Waiting for the Night” though its lyrics seem creepily sexual.  I also somewhat like the final track, “Clean,” though I wish, lyrically, this song had come first and had erased the previous lyrics of the album.

Again, I apologize, Tad.  I’m not trying to be a spoilsport here.  But, the album just annoys me exceedingly.

On a more positive note, I need to listen to Music for the Masses.  I’m guessing–and it is a guess–that I’ve not heard it since 1987 or so?  I actually remember buying it at my local record store in Hutchinson, Kansas, and the record store owner actually gave me a hard time for it.  That cracked me up rather than bothered me, but I didn’t take to the album.  

Reading your review, though, makes me want to go back and listen to it.  I very much appreciate your enthusiasm.  I do remember liking “Never Let Me Down Again” and “Strangelove” and “Pimpf.”  I’m sure I misunderstood the album, though, as I thought–at least back in the late 1980s–that it was a Gay anthem, something like “We are the Champions” by Queen.

Regardless, I did really like Songs of Faith and Devotion, though I think the production is off a bit.  Whereas the production on Black Celebration is really crisp, Songs of Faith and Devotion sounds like the band was recording under heavy blankets.  It could definitely use a Steven Wilson remix!

That said, I like the album both lyrically and musically.  I actually really like the use of guitar on this one.  I especially like “Higher Love,” the final track.  A beautiful way to conclude the album.

Tad: Okay, Brad, tell us how you really feel about Violator 😄! I happen to enjoy it a lot. I agree with you about “Personal Jesus”; it was the album’s big hit, and I have never understood its popularity. It has always struck as being stupidly simplistic: twangy faux-country guitar with the shouted tagline, “Reach out and touch me!” Like you, I think “Waiting for the Night” is a good song. I imagine it as the theme song of a low budget vampire movie.

However, I have to disagree with you about “Enjoy the Silence”. I think this is a great song, with a fantastic guitar line. Instead of cheesy twang, it has just the right amount of reverb. The song’s hook is very good, but I’ll admit the lyrics are troubling: “Vows are spoken to be broken” sounds like a pathetic pickup line. I can overlook them, because the melody line is so strong. As the song progresses, it just takes off and soars. 

I also like “Policy of Truth” because of its slinky bassline and swooping synths. Once again, I ignore the lyrics and just appreciate the wicked groove of this track. I cannot listen to it and sit still! 

Okay, with Songs of Faith and Devotion, three years had elapsed since Violator. Dave Gahan had moved to Los Angeles and got caught up in the rock scene there. When they reconvened to record Songs, he was lobbying for a rawk and roll record. They decided to rent a villa in Spain and live and record there together. Hot young producer Flood was hired to oversee things. It was a disaster. Gahan was using heroin, Gore was barely speaking with Alan Wilder, who was doing yeoman’s work with Flood trying to pull things together. Fletcher was caught in the middle. All things considered, it’s amazing they got enough good music to release an album.

When I first heard Songs, I didn’t like it at all. Over the years, though, I’ve grown to appreciate it for what it is: an attempt to inject some raw emotion and energy into their music. I think Gahan’s vocals on “Condemnation” are some of the finest of his career. And I believe “Higher Love” is one of their all-time greatest songs. It is just so beautiful how it begins barely audible and inexorably builds to an amazing climax. It truly is a song of faith and devotion. 

The SOFAD tour is legendary for the excessive indulgences Depeche Mode engaged in. After it concluded, Alan Wilder announced he was leaving the group. Dave Gahan overdosed in America, and he went into rehab. It was three years before they began work on what is another all-time favorite album of mine: Ultra. Once again, it’s a miracle they were able to cobble an album together. With Wilder gone, they were once again a trio, and the onus was on Martin Gore to come up with some decent songs. I think he delivered, but apparently Dave was barely able to sing anything. According to Tim Simenon, the producer, they had to cut and paste some of his vocals into the digital tracks line by line. That said, there are some fantastic songs here: “The Love Thieves”, “It’s No Good”, “Useless”, “Sister of Night”, and another all-time favorite, “Home”, which is sung by Martin. When I hear it in the context of the album’s genesis, I have to believe “Home” is Martin’s song of concern and caring for his friend Dave, who was struggling to overcome his drug addiction.

I love the way Ultra flows – there are a couple of short instrumental tracks that link and set up larger ones, and they help create a unified work. Ultra was a transitional album that proved Martin, Dave, and Andrew could still make great music as a trio, and it allowed them to regain their balance. 

Brad: Wow, Tad, I had no idea about any of this regarding the band.  I had no idea about the drugs, the fights, etc.  All totally new to me.  And, admittedly, it doesn’t make me like the band any more than I already didn’t.  

As to Ultra, though, I think this is by far the best thing I’ve heard from the band, and I’d go even beyond this–it’s a truly great album.  From its opening moments to its conclusion, this album really grips me.  I had no idea that Gahan was so out of it–for the vocals perfectly match the production and flow of the album, though I like the instrumental tracks the best.  I especially like “Home” with its orchestration and aching vocals, the quirky but proggy “Uselink” and “Jazz Thieves” and “Jr. Painkiller,” and the triumphant “Freestate.”

Again, though, Tad, I apologize.  I generally don’t like reviewing music I don’t like, and I just find myself in very little sympathy with this band.  C.S Lewis once said that no one unsympathetic to a genre should review within that genre.  He was talking about literature, but I think it applies to music as well.  

For what it’s worth, though, I very much appreciate your enthusiasm, and I very much appreciate that I had a chance to revisit the band, despite my own negativity.

Tad: And I appreciate your candor, Brad. It’s funny how you and I are completely in sync with so much music and so many artists, but we have wildly divergent takes on this one group. Thank you for taking the time to listen and give them a chance. 

After Ultra, they took an extended hiatus, and finally released Exciter in 2001. It’s not bad, but with the exception of “Dream On”, nothing really grabs me. There is a new maturity and confidence in their music, I think. They are all healthy and seem to be comfortable making an album on their own schedule. 

I will close with a brief word of praise for Exciter’s followup, Playing the Angel. This is the last “great” Depeche Mode album in my opinion (at least up to this point – they’re still releasing music!). From the opening screech of “A Pain That I’m Used To” through the bluesy “John The Revelator” and moody “Nothing’s Impossible”, this is a very good album with no filler. The best track is the single, “Precious”, which seems to be a father’s lament for an ailing child. It has a beautiful melody, and the lyrics are quite tender.

I saw Depeche Mode live on their Spirit tour, and they were full of energy as they connected with the audience. Now that Andrew has passed away, it’s just Martin and Dave carrying the torch. Dave has contributed several nice songs to the last few albums, which has relieved Martin, I imagine. 

So there you have it, SoC followers – two very different perspectives on one of the longest-lived and popular groups from the ‘80s. Next, Brad and Tad will discuss another big ‘80s act, Boy George and Culture Club! Okay, I’m kidding – we will NOT be covering that one; there are some limits to even Tad’s tolerance for ‘80s pop music.

fiction, LITERATURE

Willa Cather’s My Antonia: A Beautiful Ode to Prairie Life

I’ve been intending to read Willa Cather’s My Antonia for a few years, since my writer and historian friend, Bradley Birzer, raved about it. (You can read his brilliant take on Cather here.) It’s in the public domain, so I had no excuse and downloaded a free copy. And here I have to confess that I regret having waited so long to read it! From the opening sentence, I was captivated by Cather’s clear and succinct prose. 

The Antonia of the title is a young Czech woman whom the narrator, Jim Burden, sees on a train heading out to Nebraska in the late 1800s, probably around 1880. Jim is ten years old, both his parents have died, and he is leaving his home in Virginia to live with his grandparents on their farm on the prairie. Antonia Shimerdas is fourteen, and she is traveling with her family – newly arrived to America – who hope to make a new life farming in the same vicinity as the Burden’s. Her family consists of her father, mother, older brother Ambrosch, and her little sister, Yulka. From the start, they are at a disadvantage, because they overpaid for a sod house and land that they hope to farm. Poor Mr. Shimerdas is out of his depth – he was a skilled weaver back in Eastern Europe, and he knows nothing about farming. Ambrosch is a haard worker, but mistrustful and a little devious. Mrs. Shimerdas is very proud and has an extremely difficult time adjusting to their new circumstances. For Antonia, however, life is a grand adventure. She and Jim immediately strike up a friendship, and she quickly picks up English. Her openness and sincere delight in everyone and everything around her are her best qualities. 

As I read My Antonia, I was really struck by how important community was to prairie dwellers. During the first winter, a severe snowstorm hits, and Jim’s grandmother, Jim, and their indefatigable hired hand, Otto, brave the elements to bring some food and supplies to the Shimerdas. It’s no exaggeration to say this act of neighborly kindness saves Antonia’s family from starvation.

The prairie itself is a major character in the book. I loved Cather’s vivid descriptions of it in all seasons. Here’s one set in autumn:

All those fall afternoons were the same, but I never got used to them. As far as we could see, the miles of copper-red grass were drenched in sunlight that was stronger and fiercer than at any other time of the day. The blond cornfields were red and gold, the haystacks turned rosy and threw long shadows. The whole prairie was like the bush that burned with fire and was not consumed.
(Location 488, Standard Ebooks Edition)

Each chapter is a self-contained vignette that adds up to a powerful and satisfying whole. Jim’s grandparents decide to rent their farm and move to the local town of Black Hawk, so Jim can attend school. Antonia doesn’t go to school, because Ambrosch insists she work on their farm, as well as hire herself out to other farms when they need an extra hand. She is very proud of her ability to do a man’s work, but she regrets not getting a good education.

Grandfather Burden gets Antonia a job keeping house for his neighbors in town, the Harlings, and Antonia thrives there. She helps with the children, the cooking, and the cleaning. She also falls in love with dancing under a big tent that is set up in the town square for that purpose. Jim also enjoys dancing with the girls and Antonia on the weekends. Their friendship deepens as they both grow older, but it never tips over into romance. It comes close, though! 

Another important aspect of prairie life was faith. Here’s how the Burden’s celebrate one Christmas:

On Christ­mas morn­ing, when I got down to the kitchen, the men were just com­ing in from their morn­ing chores—the hors­es and pigs al­ways had their break­fast be­fore we did. Jake and Ot­to shout­ed “Mer­ry Christ­mas!” to me, and winked at each oth­er when they saw the waf­fle-irons on the stove. Grand­fa­ther came down, wear­ing a white shirt and his Sun­day coat. Morn­ing prayers were longer than usu­al. He read the chap­ters from St. Matthew about the birth of Christ, and as we lis­tened, it all seemed like some­thing that had hap­pened late­ly, and near at hand. In his prayer he thanked the Lord for the first Christ­mas, and for all that it had meant to the world ev­er since. He gave thanks for our food and com­fort, and prayed for the poor and des­ti­tute in great cities, where the strug­gle for life was hard­er than it was here with us. Grand­fa­ther’s prayers were of­ten very in­ter­est­ing. He had the gift of sim­ple and mov­ing ex­pres­sion. Be­cause he talked so lit­tle, his words had a pe­cu­liar force; they were not worn dull from con­stant use. His prayers re­flect­ed what he was think­ing about at the time, and it was chiefly through them that we got to know his feel­ings and his views about things.
(Location 951, Standard Ebooks Edition)

Life was very hard, yet for most people young Jim came into contact with, there was much joy. People had few possessions, yet they had rich lives. As the quote above makes clear, those living on the prairie considered themselves better off than city dwellers. They were responsible for their own entertainment; for example, Mrs. Harling and her daughters were accomplished pianists who loved to play for people. When a traveling troupe comes to town one summer to offer dancing lessons, all the families flock to them and make it a festive event. I would say the defining feeling of the time was optimism – in a relatively young America everyone had boundless hope and a belief that they could succeed.

In the final section of the book, Jim – who has gotten a law degree and moved to New York City – returns to Nebraska to see if he can find Antonia. He does, and he gives us this tender portrait of her in her middle age:

She was a battered woman now, not a lovely girl; but she still had that something which fires the imagination, could still stop one’s breath for a moment by a look or gesture that somehow revealed the meaning in common things. She had only to stand in the orchard, put her hand on a little crab tree and look up at the apples, to make you feel the goodness of planting and tending and harvesting at last.
(Location 3684, Standard Ebooks Edition)

My Antonia  is deservedly a classic of American literature. As Jim and his friends mature, so does the country, becoming less agricultural and more urban. The pace of life increases, and modernity begins to intrude. My Antonia is a paean to a bygone era of American life when life was fraught with peril, but also held out almost infinite promise. In our own day, it’s common for neighbors on the same street of a city to not know each other at all. In Antonia’s time, everyone knew everyone and felt some responsibility for each other’s welfare. At the close of the first quarter of the twenty-first century, we have so much in terms of material comfort, but we have lost much, as well.

Music

More Classical Favorites: The 20th Century

This is the third and final post I’ll write sharing my favorite albums of classical music. I’ll be devoting my picks to twentieth century composers, and I’d like to start with France’s Claude Debussy, and an album with a generous helping of his music

La Mer  is one of Debussy’s most well known works. It is a big departure from composers like Beethoven, in that he creates an atmosphere through music that doesn’t appear to have a beginning, middle, or end. It’s beautiful and completely tonal, and it does a great job of conjuring images of the ocean. This album also includes the delightful Prélude À L’Aprés-Midi D’Un Faune. Charles Dutoit conducts the Orchestre Symphonique De Montreal in these performances from 1990.

Also from France is Maurice Ravel, and my favorite album of his music is again performed by Charles Dutoit with the Orchestre Symphonique De Montreal. 

Ravel is perhaps best known for Bolero, but I find myself returning to these relatively short works. They are very melodic and soothing – like Debussy, they are evocative of various scenes. These pieces date from the early 1900s, and they are like impressionistic paintings, but in musical terms.

Another French composer (last one, I promise!) that is a favorite is Erik Satie. He was an eccentric guy, and I don’t think his contemporaries appreciated his genius. Since his death, his Gymnopedies have been recorded countless times, especially in orchestral form. He was “New Age” decades before that genre appeared. 

This album is all solo piano pieces performed by Pascal Roge, and it is delightful. On first listen, the melodies seem childishly simple, but they have surprising depth. This album from 1984 is one of my all-time favorites.

While we’re on the subject of piano music, another favorite collection of pieces is Water Music of the Impressionists, performed by Carol Rosenberger. It includes water-themed works by Liszt, Griffes, Ravel, and Debussy.

Another Delos Records production, it sounds fantastic, and the program is a lot of fun and relaxing.

Over in England, a favorite composer of mine was Ralph Vaughan Williams. This album collects several serenades and suites that are all very relaxing and pleasant. 

The standout track on this album is the violin showpiece, The Lark Ascending. It is nearly fifteen minutes of musical bliss, in which time seems to stand still. It is an astonishingly beautiful piece of music.

Sir Adrian Boult was one of Vaughan Williams’s most sympathetic interpreters, and if you like this album, I encourage you to get all of his symphonies performed by Boult.

It’s time to up the energy level, so let’s take a look at a classic album from the RCA Records vault: Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Concerto No. 2 and Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini,  performed by the pianist Artur Rubinstein with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by Fritz Reiner.

This is unabashedly romantic music that sounds amazing, given it was recorded in 1956. The Rhapsody got a new lease on life when it was featured in the movie Somewhere In Time, starring Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour. It’s a beautiful and moving piece that has wonderful melodies.

Over in the United States, some strange things were happening – an insurance salesman named Charles Ives was pursuing his unique vision of a classical music that celebrated America and its optimism as it entered the twentieth century. 

Ives was decades ahead of his time, and his music is weird and fun at the same time. Central Park in the Dark is meant to portray the experience of sitting on a bench in Central Park as various bands and singing groups play around you while “a fire engine, a cab horse runs away, lands ‘over the fence and out'”. You can hear snatches of popular songs like “Camptown Races” and “Turkey in the Straw” in the Holidays Symphony. 

One of America’s greatest composers in the twentieth century was George Gershwin. My favorite album of his music is this one performed by Michael Tilson Thomas and the Los Angeles Philharmonic

Most people are familiar with the heavily orchestrated version of Rhapsody In Blue. Tilson went back to the original 1924 version and performs it with a small ensemble. The result is amazing, as it swings like crazy. The Preludes for Piano are fantastic, bouncy works. The closing track, Promenade, is from a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie, Shall We Dance. This is a perfect album to play during a cocktail party.

In Italy, Ottorino Respighi was resurrecting sixteenth and seventeenth century songs and incorporating them into his music. The results were his three suites of Ancient Airs and Dances. 

I may be cheating here, because these melodies date from the Baroque era, but Respighi composed his suites in the twentieth. Regardless, this a wonderful album, and Seiji Ozawa with the Boston Symphony Orchestra turns in a lively performance. This is classical music music that makes you want to dance!

My favorite composer of the twentieth century is Igor Stravinsky. He is to modern classical music what Miles Davis was to jazz – a trailblazer who is not afraid to change. Stravinsky challenged the musical status quo, but he never lost his appreciation for classic forms. His later music was even very conservative, compared to what other composers were doing. I have to highlight three of his most famous works: The Firebird, Petrouchka, and Le Sacre du Printemps (The Rite of Spring). 

All three are performed by Charles Dutoit and the Orchestre Symphonique De Montreal. These three works were groundbreaking when they were first performed, and they continue to be quoted from in popular culture. 

Finally, a couple of albums that feature more than one composer, but they are both ones that I return to repeatedly.

First, this classic album from RCA Victor: Alan Hohvaness’s Mysterious Mountain, Prokofiev’s Lieutenant Kije Suite, and Stravinsky’s The Fairy’s Kiss: Divertimento.

Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra do an outstanding job with these three works, and the sonics are incredible for a 65-year-old recording. I could do an entire post on how much I love Hovhaness’s music. He was a very prolific composer, with at least 67 known symphonies and countless other pieces. He was a lover of tonality and melody, and his music deserves to be better known.

Prokofiev’s Lieutenant Kije Suite is an extremely enjoyable piece that sparkles and delights, while the Stravinsky piece is excellent as well. This is an album with a near-perfect program of modern music.

The last album I’ll recommend is another one from Delos, and it features Stravinsky’s The Soldier’s Tale, Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony, and Dimitri Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No. 1.

The Soldier’s Tale is a folk tale of a Russian soldier who makes a Faustian bargain with the devil. In return for his violin, the devil gives him a book that enables him to amass a fortune. The soldier soon finds out that money does not equal happiness. Stravinsky’s soundtrack is scored for a very small ensemble. He composed it during WWI in Switzerland, and he wanted it to easy to produce. The music is very rhythmic and energetic, with lots of nice melodies.

Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony is only 13 minutes long, and it’s like a rollercoaster ride. It’s very accessible and fun. The Shostakovich Piano Concerto features Carol Rosenberger, and she turns in a fine performance.

Bonus! A Brief Look at Minimalism

At the tail end of the twentieth century, a new style of music, Minimalism became quite popular. Most people trace its origin to Terry Riley’s In C. This style is characterized by repetitive phrases under which themes gradually develop. It is the antithesis of atonality, but it also doesn’t owe much to traditional ideas of melody. I personally enjoy it, but there have been a lot derivative and unoriginal music made under the Minimalist label. Here are four albums that I think are worth checking out:

This is the one album that is the best representative of what Minimalism is about. Reich’s Variations for Winds, Strings, and Keyboards is engaging and very enjoyable, while Adams’s Shaker Loops is a classic of the genre. I highly recommend this one.

Philip Glass is probably the most famous Minimalist composer. I went to a concert of his and got a headache – the music was very amplified and relentless. This album has no electronic instruments, and it is very enjoyable. I listen to it often.

Daniel Lentz is an interesting artist. He likes to take spoken and sung phrases, chop them up, throw them back together in random ways, and see what happens. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. On On the Leopard Altar, it mostly works. I’m including it, because it contains one of the most ethereal and incredibly calming pieces of music I’ve ever heard: Lascaux. This piece is performed entirely on rubbed and struck wineglasses. It’s indescribably beautiful.

I’ll close this long(!) post with what I consider to be a true contemporary classic: Arvo Part’s Tabula Rasa.

Part would resent my including him in the Minimalsit camp. He describes his music as tintinnabulation. Nevertheless, it has a lot of repetition, but in a way that serves a greater purpose. Part is a devout Orthodox Christian, and he is familiar with Hesychastic prayers – simple prayers that are repeated over and over. His music is an attempt to express his faith. He uses silence and simplicity, and the results are extremely moving. His music truly is timeless.

I hope this post has piqued your curiosity and you make some enjoyable new musical discoveries!