The Animal Collective concert in Prospect Park on Saturday, a fundraiser for the Celebrate Brooklyn free concert series, was not quite sold out, though the previous night was, and I actually stood on line and considered buying tickets. But at $30 a pop for two people (and my wife, born in China, is not exactly out buying artrock CD's in her spare time), standing room only, I thought I'd explore the perimeter as a potential alternative. As I perambulated about, I quickly realized what was going on: the promoters had lined the 8-foot fence that surrounds the bandshell with opaque plastic sheeting, in an explicit effort to prevent people from seeing the concert even from a considerable distance.
Excuse me? Let's be clear about something. BRIC, the sponsor of the concert series (as far as I can tell the initials stand for Brooklyn Information and Culture) is a largely publicly funded organization. Outside the income they receive from events, about two thirds of their revenue is from government and foundation grants. Their 2008 Annual Report lists numerous New York City institutions and public figures as supporters, as well as federal entities like the National Endowment for the Arts. More locally, the people of Brooklyn have supported this group's forays into many different art arenas. You really have to wonder about the mindset of a publicly funded and city-supported organization that sits down to figure out a way to cut off visual access to an outdoor concert in a public park. It is nothing short of mindboggling, in fact outright insulting.
Up until recently BRIC was not even granted the right to hold these pricey, ticketed fundraisers at the bandshell. But for the last couple of years they have gotten more and more daring, sending us Bob Dylan and other luminaries at up to $100 a seat; er, stand. Most of the concerts are still pay-what-you-want pricing, but the fundraiser idea has obviously been condoned by the Parks Dep't. It is a dubious proposition that any organization, for-profit or not-for-profit, should be permitted to use public space for its fundraisers, but lets just imagine that Propsect Park or some other public institution is getting enough out of this to justify it. Still, the blatant "fuck off, freeloaders" of slapping black plastic sheeting around the entire hillside around the bandshell is in incredibly poor taste.
People will pay to see a concert by a known band from the inside whether they can see from outside a fence or not. The sound beyond the barricades is actually very good, but even without the obnoxious blackout paper you need binoculars to see much of anything. So what is the point? In all the years I attended the Schaeffer Music Festival (later Dr. Pepper Music Festival) at Wollman Rink in Central Park, there was never any effort to close off visual access from the rocks and hillsides (not that that would have been so easy). I saw many concerts from out there, as did thousands of other people, and yet many if not most of them were sold out. And in fact, in spite of BRIC's earnest efforts at exclusion, there were actually one or two places where you could get a full stage view from outside the Prospect Park bandshell arena, at least with a pair of binoculars. So, yeah, I saw and heard the whole concert for free. Tough nuggies. (I'm sure our BRIC friends can translate that - you are from brooklyn, aren't you, folks?)
BRIC needs to rethink their attitude here, and remember who made them what they are today. Cutting off the view from hundreds of yards away is, well, shortsighted. The next time I attend one of their regular concerts I will pay 1 cent per person, with a note explaining why. I encourage others to do the same.
I don't know too much about Animal Collective. I heard their latest, Meriweather Post Pavillion, which I thought was interesting, listenable prog-rock with an art-rock twist. The group was formed as a gathering of various artrock types, originally from Baltimore but now living in NYC. With names like Panda Bear and Geologist, stage props that light up like jack-o'lanterns and ocean wave cutouts that move back and forth with little fishies on them, they do seem a little precious; "Teddy Pre-school" might be an equally appropriate name. But the music is by no means from Romper Room. On the contrary, it challenges the listener with repetitive streams of keyboard-driven sound, to which the vocals seem almost accompaniments. The group is about sonic experience and how rock can be a medium for the expansion of that.
If I had to describe what they do relative to other genres, I might call them a cross between Yes and Phillip Glass (Genesis and Terry Riley?). They build these incredibly thick textures and stick with them for long periods of time, the vocals choosing a few notes to bounce around on, the bass (always, as far as I could tell, produced by a keyboard) thumping continuously and moving minimally or not at all. The result is not always pleasant, but never jarring; there are points at which it draws you in and others at which you are kind of waiting for them to move on to something else. There are few if any such things as breaks, even for the keyboards, and a guitar was brought out only occasionally to deepen the texture. There were just three performers (the group has four members but they perform in various combinations) yet the sound was more orchestral than almost anything I have heard since the late 1970's.
Whether this is a good thing or not depends on your perspective, and perhaps on where it leads. Rock went through a heavily orchestrated phase in the 70's with groups like The Moody Blues, Yes, Genesis, Pink Floyd, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer making the synthesizer and an array of keyboards a primary component of their sound. There were groups like Supertramp for whom guitars seemed to be an afterthought. This was a great era for music, but it also led to a host of imitations that were far less inspired and gave the Synth Sound a bad reputation. A counterreaction was inevitable, and it came in the form of the Sex Pistols and the Ramones and the punk/new wave explosion that followed. Perhaps Animal Collective is a sign that the synthesizer is fair game again. The members of the group certainly come from that post-post-punk milieu that has rejuvenated rock and roll, after the dull fin-de-siecle thrashing of the last decade. The Seattle Sound and alt-country were about the only decent things that happened then (I'm exaggerating, but not much); but suddenly, along come The Strokes and Death Cab for Cutie and a lot of (slightly less promoted) bands that now constitute "alternative" rock, which is to say, more or less the living soul of rock. What Animal Collective shows is that the essence of this music can be presented in a format that fuses rock with much of what happened in "alternative classical" in the last 30 years - the downtown New York school of Glass, LaMonte Young, Steve Reich and John Adams, all of which was fueled originally, not from rock, but from jazz, specifically Terry Riley's A Rainbow in Curved Air. The curve has turned back on itself, and we now have an alt-rock form of this musical rainbow.
So once again, is this a good thing? Anything that opens up new possibilitiies is a good thing, because there is no way forward if you don't. The Strokes were commercial enough, but whether or not alt-rock was threatening to degenerate into commercialism from the beginning, with groups like Coldplay and The Killers making overt thrusts at Top 40 radio play it has perhaps rounded a corner. Art rock may come to the rescue. Or it may lead down a blind alley, with compositions more aimless and hermetic than anything Animal Collective produces. We'll see. Meanwhile, I can only say that even if no one moment gave me anything like the intense joy of sitting in the Garden listening to Yes perform "I Get Up, I Get Down", the overall impact of the concert was that of a kind of perverse pleasure - the pleasure of just experiencing something different, something not too dressed up for consumption but not too far gone to be taken in. And that is one positive kind of musical experience. Go see them if you get a chance, and if you don't like what you hear, at least consider yourself richer for having tried.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Post-Punks and Heavy Divas: Blondie and Pat Benatar at Seaside
So, I know your questions already, and I intend to answer them. (1) Can they still sing? (2) Are they still hot? (3) Which was the better band? (4) Whose material holds up better after all this time? Not necessarily in that order.
Actually, the answer to all four is "Marty Markowitz", Brooklyn's official Seaside Summer Concerts prima donna, who does not hesitate to use the platform as, well, a platform, for friends who are running for office. At least he didn't use it as an opportunity to promote the Atlantic Yards boondoggle. Or did I miss that part?
In any case, once Marty and various people who were there for political playdates decided to vacate the premises, and after The Donnas, a decent rock band to whom I will not devote much attention (having already paid attention to the prima donnas) finished their set, in this 40th year since the iconic Woodstock gathering, Asser Levy park turned into Classic Rock alley as Pat and Debbie plied their trade. Thus I return to my original questions.
Okay, who can still sing? That's a trick question, since only one of them could really ever sing. Or, if that's unfair, let's put it this way: Pat Benatar can sing. She can belt. She can croon, she can wail, she can scream. She can hit the notes she needs to hit with the tone she wants to hit them. She's 56 and I'm sure she knows what she can't do that she used to do, but there isn't much that comes across to an audience as lacking. Deborah Harry surprised me. She was never a brilliant vocalist, but she could sing and she could put a song over in such different styles as the guttural "One Way or Another" and the disco-slick "Heart of Glass". On Thursday night, though, she started off very weak, sounding like she didn't have much left of what was only a modest vocal talent to begin with. But as the set moved along she seemed to get more and more confident, until towards the end she was letting loose like the punk diva she used to be. So, the answer to question one? Overall, Pat Benatar wins the vocal contest. But don't rule Debbie out just yet, she can rise to the occasion even if it takes her a few tunes to get going.
So what about the boys in the band? Let's start with this: Chris Stein should not be too concerned that Neil "Spyder" Giraldo blows him away as a performer, technician, and creative player, because he blows away most guitarists who are not in the guitar hero pantheon. Indeed I suspect he is more impressive than quite a few of Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time - but then, so are a lot of the guitarists who never made it into that ridiculous list. His sound did a lot to make Pat Benatar the hard rock queen she was, and he was in fine form at this concert. One kind of guitar "hero" plays a lot of notes and bangs out power chords. Another kind of guitar hero plays one note, or better yet, no notes, just picking away on a dampened string, but makes the entire sound and rhythm of a song revolve around what he does. The latter is the kind of guitar player Spyder is. When he plays two notes he could be an orchestra. It's all done with effects and amplification and guitar controls, which makes it look and sound easy, but it ain't. And for the few who have mastered it, it is incredibly effective. I should add that Blondie has another guitarist in their present incarnation, and he appeared to be doing as much or more work than Stein. It was hard to tell who was doing what from where I was, but Paul Carbonara seemed to be very good, if not necessarily hewing to the erstwhile punk sound of the band.
Okay, drummers. Clem Burke of Blondie is not a drummer, he's a freakin' machine gun, and he's got the band's back. Last drummer I saw play like that was Corky Laing. Or not even. Burke was the force that kept every song driving forward, no matter how subtle it was. Myron Grombacher (I assume that's who Pat's drummer was - never heard an announcement) was perfectly decent, but if I were a small craft and I saw Burke coming I'd cede the right of way quickly. And that's about it for comparisons - neither band is prominently bass or keyboard driven (though there are important keyboard parts in some of Blondie's material), and those personnel are not all original band members, so I will pass on it and move onto the next critical question.
Of these two rock powerhouses of the 1980's, whose material holds up better after all these years? Tough one, though I know the answer. (Right, modesty, modesty - I know what my answer would be. See, I can do it... against my will.) Some of Pat Benatar's hits I still find very powerful, particularly "Hell Is for Children" (maybe her best performance of the night) and "Heartbreaker". These, especially the first, came off as enduring rock anthems beyond the limits of style and era. But most of her material never really moved me beyond the average top 40 song, in which area she had tons of competition from the standard 80's FM hitmakers - Foreigner, Journey, Styx, Rush, Steve Miller, et al. "Hit Me With Your Best Shot", "Love Is a Battlefield", etc. just kind of sat there in my consciousness as okay songs floating around in a decade's worth of okay music. (And I have been known in less charitable moods to refer to okay music as "garbage", which may be a little harsh... or not. Okay, modesty period is over.) Blondie, on the other hand, I thought of as a kind of fallen angel of post-punk, but where they fell was not necessarily all bad, similar to the Police. (Cheap Trick is an example of a former punk outfit that had gone way too far toward the Journey end of the spectrum to interest me much.)
After this concert I must say that if I didn't know these two bands beforehand, I would be running to the store to buy Blondie albums. Okay, maybe "album" - Parallel Lines has almost all their most popular songs, a killer album that has sold 12 million copies and made them the band they're now known as. But what actually impressed me the most was how much I liked the Blondie material that I had not heard before. Which is plenty, since they released eight albums over a period of about 27 years, and I haven't heard much more than Parallel Lines, a little bit of their early material and a couple of later hits. Now I'm inspired to discover some of the Blondie material that I sort of ignored in favor of more hardcore punk and a variety of other stuff.
Okay, last question. How can I be tactful about this? By not discussing it at all, probably. Such sound judgment has never been my style, though. So first of all, Pat Benatar was never an icon of sensuality for me, so not too likely that she is now, even with her long blonde (yes!) locks. (Will the real Pat Benatar please stand up?) Joan Jett could have tied me up and abused me, as long as she wore those black leather pants and other emo gear. But Pat always seemed a little too girl-next-doorish by my lights. Deborah Harry, on the other hand, was everybody's idea of a sex symbol, and did not go to great lengths to hide it. Which brings me to the subject of reggae, and the movies. Why? "Because the harder they come, the harder they fall, one and all!"
I do wish they would improve the sound at Seaside. It may be okay from up close, but from the outer banks where they keep the riffraff (oh, I get it riff raff, rock concert, OMG) it pretty much sucks, both in terms of quality and volume. The volume may be a compromise to keep the neighbors happy, but the quality can't be. Compared to the sound at Celebrate Brooklyn (see my next review) it is like listening through wax paper. Hey Marty, maybe for some of those hundreds of millions of dollars in tax breaks you favor for Downtown Brooklyn and Atlantic Yards developers you could get one of them to pony up for a decent sound system?
Actually, the answer to all four is "Marty Markowitz", Brooklyn's official Seaside Summer Concerts prima donna, who does not hesitate to use the platform as, well, a platform, for friends who are running for office. At least he didn't use it as an opportunity to promote the Atlantic Yards boondoggle. Or did I miss that part?
In any case, once Marty and various people who were there for political playdates decided to vacate the premises, and after The Donnas, a decent rock band to whom I will not devote much attention (having already paid attention to the prima donnas) finished their set, in this 40th year since the iconic Woodstock gathering, Asser Levy park turned into Classic Rock alley as Pat and Debbie plied their trade. Thus I return to my original questions.
Okay, who can still sing? That's a trick question, since only one of them could really ever sing. Or, if that's unfair, let's put it this way: Pat Benatar can sing. She can belt. She can croon, she can wail, she can scream. She can hit the notes she needs to hit with the tone she wants to hit them. She's 56 and I'm sure she knows what she can't do that she used to do, but there isn't much that comes across to an audience as lacking. Deborah Harry surprised me. She was never a brilliant vocalist, but she could sing and she could put a song over in such different styles as the guttural "One Way or Another" and the disco-slick "Heart of Glass". On Thursday night, though, she started off very weak, sounding like she didn't have much left of what was only a modest vocal talent to begin with. But as the set moved along she seemed to get more and more confident, until towards the end she was letting loose like the punk diva she used to be. So, the answer to question one? Overall, Pat Benatar wins the vocal contest. But don't rule Debbie out just yet, she can rise to the occasion even if it takes her a few tunes to get going.
So what about the boys in the band? Let's start with this: Chris Stein should not be too concerned that Neil "Spyder" Giraldo blows him away as a performer, technician, and creative player, because he blows away most guitarists who are not in the guitar hero pantheon. Indeed I suspect he is more impressive than quite a few of Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time - but then, so are a lot of the guitarists who never made it into that ridiculous list. His sound did a lot to make Pat Benatar the hard rock queen she was, and he was in fine form at this concert. One kind of guitar "hero" plays a lot of notes and bangs out power chords. Another kind of guitar hero plays one note, or better yet, no notes, just picking away on a dampened string, but makes the entire sound and rhythm of a song revolve around what he does. The latter is the kind of guitar player Spyder is. When he plays two notes he could be an orchestra. It's all done with effects and amplification and guitar controls, which makes it look and sound easy, but it ain't. And for the few who have mastered it, it is incredibly effective. I should add that Blondie has another guitarist in their present incarnation, and he appeared to be doing as much or more work than Stein. It was hard to tell who was doing what from where I was, but Paul Carbonara seemed to be very good, if not necessarily hewing to the erstwhile punk sound of the band.
Okay, drummers. Clem Burke of Blondie is not a drummer, he's a freakin' machine gun, and he's got the band's back. Last drummer I saw play like that was Corky Laing. Or not even. Burke was the force that kept every song driving forward, no matter how subtle it was. Myron Grombacher (I assume that's who Pat's drummer was - never heard an announcement) was perfectly decent, but if I were a small craft and I saw Burke coming I'd cede the right of way quickly. And that's about it for comparisons - neither band is prominently bass or keyboard driven (though there are important keyboard parts in some of Blondie's material), and those personnel are not all original band members, so I will pass on it and move onto the next critical question.
Of these two rock powerhouses of the 1980's, whose material holds up better after all these years? Tough one, though I know the answer. (Right, modesty, modesty - I know what my answer would be. See, I can do it... against my will.) Some of Pat Benatar's hits I still find very powerful, particularly "Hell Is for Children" (maybe her best performance of the night) and "Heartbreaker". These, especially the first, came off as enduring rock anthems beyond the limits of style and era. But most of her material never really moved me beyond the average top 40 song, in which area she had tons of competition from the standard 80's FM hitmakers - Foreigner, Journey, Styx, Rush, Steve Miller, et al. "Hit Me With Your Best Shot", "Love Is a Battlefield", etc. just kind of sat there in my consciousness as okay songs floating around in a decade's worth of okay music. (And I have been known in less charitable moods to refer to okay music as "garbage", which may be a little harsh... or not. Okay, modesty period is over.) Blondie, on the other hand, I thought of as a kind of fallen angel of post-punk, but where they fell was not necessarily all bad, similar to the Police. (Cheap Trick is an example of a former punk outfit that had gone way too far toward the Journey end of the spectrum to interest me much.)
After this concert I must say that if I didn't know these two bands beforehand, I would be running to the store to buy Blondie albums. Okay, maybe "album" - Parallel Lines has almost all their most popular songs, a killer album that has sold 12 million copies and made them the band they're now known as. But what actually impressed me the most was how much I liked the Blondie material that I had not heard before. Which is plenty, since they released eight albums over a period of about 27 years, and I haven't heard much more than Parallel Lines, a little bit of their early material and a couple of later hits. Now I'm inspired to discover some of the Blondie material that I sort of ignored in favor of more hardcore punk and a variety of other stuff.
Okay, last question. How can I be tactful about this? By not discussing it at all, probably. Such sound judgment has never been my style, though. So first of all, Pat Benatar was never an icon of sensuality for me, so not too likely that she is now, even with her long blonde (yes!) locks. (Will the real Pat Benatar please stand up?) Joan Jett could have tied me up and abused me, as long as she wore those black leather pants and other emo gear. But Pat always seemed a little too girl-next-doorish by my lights. Deborah Harry, on the other hand, was everybody's idea of a sex symbol, and did not go to great lengths to hide it. Which brings me to the subject of reggae, and the movies. Why? "Because the harder they come, the harder they fall, one and all!"
I do wish they would improve the sound at Seaside. It may be okay from up close, but from the outer banks where they keep the riffraff (oh, I get it riff raff, rock concert, OMG) it pretty much sucks, both in terms of quality and volume. The volume may be a compromise to keep the neighbors happy, but the quality can't be. Compared to the sound at Celebrate Brooklyn (see my next review) it is like listening through wax paper. Hey Marty, maybe for some of those hundreds of millions of dollars in tax breaks you favor for Downtown Brooklyn and Atlantic Yards developers you could get one of them to pony up for a decent sound system?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
