Forgery League

This here video rocks on so many levels. (There’s a better quality version on The Fame Game site, but I’ve embedded the YouTube version here because it politely waits for you to click on it before starting to download the whole damn thing.)

Without further ado, star beatboxer Beardyman shows you how to prepare the Electro Funk Daddy Superstar break:

(Thanks to my SO at Craphammer for pointing this one out to me.)

Why is this kind of thing so damn satisfying? My guess is that it takes electronic music - virtual and abstracted, but the product of a long process of stylistic and technological evolution in its own right - and adds another layer of depth by grounding it back in the physical world again, using honest-to-goodness real-time physical virtuosity. And to top it off, it’s funny and spontaneous. In a word, it’s masterful.

Really, it’s the human equivalent of the song of the Australian lyrebird (as introduced here by Sir David Attenborough):

Spacing Wire points out this lovely “concert sauvage” by NYC a capella group Naturally 7, favouring bemused Parisian commuters with a rendition of “In The Air Tonight”. I’m reminded of my first visit to Manhattan a few years ago, when three guys wandered onto our train and started singing a couple of gospel numbers (“It’s gonna rain! It’s gonna rain. Or maybe snow…”) - I’m guessing there’s much more of a tradition of singing on the subway in New York?

Makes me want to do some busking this summer. It struck me, for example, strolling around during last year’s wonderful Nuit Blanche, that it’d be even cooler with street music…

I almost missed this one: Zunior recently released the Our Power Solar Music Compilation as an exclusive download album. It’s a fundraiser for solar power initiatives in Ontario, and has tracks by Sexsmith & Kerr, Steven Page, Snailhouse, Gord Downie and others.

Friday we went out to the Beaches (or the Beach, if you’re an old-timer in this town) for the Jazz Festival. We’d never been there before, and were blown away - they close about a mile and a half of Queen St, and musicians perform on every block. The music was a mixed bag, but there was always something different around the corner. Samba Squad in particular rocked like mad.

Yesterday we caught Dusk Dances at Dufferin Grove Park. Corpus Dance Projects puts it on every year, staging a number of short dance pieces, each at a different site in the park; the parks themselves change from year to year. Sean and I - not exactly fans of dance - never miss it. This time, there was a set from a Maori group from New Zealand (ahh, so that’s what poi look like!), a lovely aerial duet with live cello, a fun little number that mocked the recent municipal strike, and to cap it off, Corpus themselves performed their signature “A Flock Of Flyers”. Five dancers represent a Canadian Air Force squadron who have been grounded by budget cuts (their motto: “We may not have planes, but we have ideas!”) and perform various manoeuvres under the orders of their leader, Commander Hup.

On the way home, Sean and I spent a long time discussing the purpose of art, and the difficulties of getting a message across in a work - and passing on knowledge in general. Much philosophizing followed… I’ll have to devote another entry to this some time.

Right now I’m just stalling - gotta head out to the bank and it’s pouring outside. Cool lightning tho. :D

Julian and I hit the open stage again tonight - we played “Ruins The Story” and “Threshold Interrupt”, both songs we hadn’t touched in a while. For “Interrupt” we got the house drummer to sit in, which was a first… Both Julian and I played and sang with freakish intensity, spurred on by the loudness. I have no idea if I hit any notes at all, but damn, we had energy, and damn, it was fun.

Plenty of kind words, especially from our host. It was a pretty darn good night all round. The Oasis is definitely my favorite of the open stages we’ve played at. It has lots of great performers, while being unintimidating for newcomers, and the variety of different acts keeps things interesting. Possibly best of all, several instrumentalists are on hand, willing to sit in on a song or two - it’s all very free-flowing and inviting.

I think it’s time to start writing out chord charts so people can play along with us. Yay!

It’s been an impulsive day. I went out shopping for a mirrored cabinet for the bathroom. A rare item in these parts, it seems: I came up empty-handed.

On the way, however, I happened on an HMV. Now, HMV isn’t my usual haunt for record shopping - I prefer to shop at the little independents - but on a whim I stopped in. For a good while I wandered around from section to section, checking out everything that caught my eye, desperately trying to remember the name of an apparently amazing acoustic guitarist someone recommended. Rather lovely jazzy-bossa-trip-step somethingorother on the store speakers. (Jazzanova, I think?)

I picked up some Prokofiev, since there wasn’t any in my collection yet. Also got the new Sarah Slean album, Night Bugs after hearing bits and pieces on the radio - the harmonies on the poppy closing track, “Bank Accounts”, nearly had me in tears at the listening booth. (So did “L’autre valse d’Amelie” from the Amélie soundtrack, which I must also get sometime.)

Bay station - an older fellow was playing accordion there, something slow and sweet. He seemed even a little surprised when I dropped a loonie in the tray in front of him. Funny: in the days surrounding our move, I was reserved, even distant, shutting myself off from everything while I got my head wrapped around this new lifestyle, living mostly in my head. It feels like I’ve returned, now. I’ve found myself making more contact with people around me, noticing them more, starting up conversations with people panhandling on the street…

(Man! That Sarah Slean tune is still going through my head. And I just realized that one line in the chorus ends with the harmony and main melody a major seventh apart. Yow.)

In the afternoon J came by and we practiced a bit before heading to the Oasis for the weekly open stage. I’d never been there before, and I was immediately impressed - by the comfy surroundings, the smoke-free back room, the diverse tapas menu, the sound, and the diversity of the acts. It was a nice change from the parade of acoustic guitars at other places we’ve been. Oh, there were guitars, including ours, and they made some great sounds in the hands of our fellow musicians. But there were several duos and bands (the stage setup generally includes a drum kit), one woman who sang to prerecorded accompaniment (much better than that makes it sound), and a rather odd fellow who did a sort of stand-up comedy (I had to wonder if it was an act, or whether he was Really Like That). As with any open stage, the acts varied wildly in experience and skill, but regardless, it was always fun.

J and I played two of his: “My Apology” and “Suit Impostor Prophesy”. I played better - miles and miles better - than I’ve ever played on stage before, and stayed fairly relaxed all the way through. Partly, it may have been that I was playing better, but generally, I just wasn’t worried any longer about what everyone might think of us. Before I would have cringed every time I squeaked on a high note or played out of key. Now, I just let it flow - easier now that the music is coming much more from my hands than from thinking about each note. It’s like learning to crawl, then walk, then run.

At this rate, I should be airborne soon. I wonder what that would sound like…