The second Deep Dish album gets a reissue, having been unavailable on streaming services for many years. The American duo are still a going concern, though Ali ‘Dubfire’ Shirazinia and Sharam Tayebi tend to do their work in solo capacities these days, behind the decks.
By the time George Is On was released, Deep Dish had already proved their staying power in house music, but this was just the second long player from the duo in 10 years.
What’s the music like?
It’s great to see this fine house music album from 2005 back in circulation, and listening to it confirms that this is house music that has aged well. Lead single Flashdance, a no.3 hit in the UK, was one of their very best, commercial yet clubby at the same time – and with persuasive vocals from Anousheh. It is matched here with a rare guest slot for Stevie Nicks, singing Dreams – and yes, that is the Fleetwood Mac song that she was persuaded to re-record. It is a predictably fine version, those distinctive tones an ideal match for the wistful lyrics.
Also adding weight to the songs is the smoky vocal of Richard Morel, whose three contributions are led by the excellent Sacramento, the darker Everybody’s Wearing My Head and No Stopping For Nicotine.
Does it all work?
It does – and as a considerable bonus there are a host of extended mixes to enjoy.
Is it recommended?
It is. Both Deep Dish albums have aged well, and George Is On shows just how far ahead of the game they were when it came to making satisfying long players with commercial appeal.
For fans of… Danny Tenaglia, Hernan Cattaneo, Heller & Farley, Roger Sanchez
NightjaR is described as ‘the nom-de-plume and smudged rainbow constellation of collaborative copy-and-paste sound-wrangling and hip-hop from Jimi Goodwin’. The Goodwin in question is the frontman and singer of Doves, whose considerable popularity as a guitar-led band over the last two decades has rather masked the fact that their members are pretty prolific in their solo concerns.
For Mala Leche Goodwin has used his contact book and social media to book an intriguing set of collaborators, picking hip hop artists that he likes. These include an intriguing pairing of UK (SonnyJim) and US (Quelle Chris), Pan Amsterdam, Homeboy Sandman, Sleaford Mods’ Jason Williamson, Pruven, Vast Aire & Burgu all together on one track, and Guilty Simpson.
What’s the music like?
This is a big melting pot of styles, put together in a way that feels low budget and home made but which makes for an expansive and logical concept album, as Goodwin explores a huge variety of beats, thoughts and moods.
On occasion the anger spills over, like the observation from Pruven, Vast Aire and Burgu on Piano Heights that “Joni Mitchell never lied…and Boris Johnson’s a motherfucking Russian spy.” Jason Williamson, never one to hold back, delivers a cameo of typically descriptive storytelling in Blood Red Dead. Baby Don’t explores a compelling chemistry between SonnyJim and Quelle Chris, while Mala Leche takes a ‘leak’ at the news with roughed up chimes from Big Ben and Guilty Simpson in tow.
Meanwhile Sylvester sounds like an offcut from a detective movie, and Smashing Little Boat casts the musical net far and wide in its magical mystery tour. Finally Glove Department, the second cut to feature Pan Amsterdam, is a mere eight-and-a-half minutes of jazz-infused beatmaking and storytelling.
Does it all work?
Pretty much. Some of the loose ends are pretty ragged but to be honest it is part of the album’s lasting appeal, that it keeps some rough edges and a patchwork feel.
Is it recommended?
It is, enthusiastically. Goodwin’s album rails with anger against some elements of today’s society, but makes sure to have a lot of fun while doing so. With grooves aplenty, and fresh lyrical insights to match, it should go far.
For fans of… The Streets, Audio Bullys, Jamie T, Plan B, Sleaford Mods
Olivia Chaney, Marika Hackman, BC Camplight, Scott Matthews, The Unthanks, BBC Symphony Orchestra / Jules Buckley
Royal Albert Hall, London Wednesday 24 July 2024
reviewed by John Earls Pictures below (c) John Earls and (bottom) Chris Christodoulou
This November sees the 50th anniversary of the tragic death of the English singer-songwriter Nick Drake at the age of 26, having released just three albums of beautiful, bittersweet songs. Little known at the time, his reputation and influence has grown significantly.
This 2024 BBC Prom – an ‘orchestral celebration’ of his music – was destined to be something quite special and credit should go to British journalist and broadcaster John Wilson for proposing it.
Jules Buckley, here conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra, has been involved in a number of BBC Proms over the years giving orchestral twists to contemporary music. Many of Drake’s songs were released at the time with string arrangements by Robert Kirby (it was good to hear Buckley pay tribute to Kirby who he referred to as “Nick Drake’s foil”) and these were developed, as well as some new ones added, by a number of other arrangers for this concert.
Following a gripping opening of the instrumental Introduction from Drake’s Bryter Layter album, BC Camplightgave excellent performances of Fly and Pink Moon which was deftly accompanied by strings and horns. Alas, his closing of the concert with Drake’s classic Saturday Sun didn’t quite cut it, being a bit too schmaltzy for this reviewer. However, the final all orchestral piece, an arrangement by Sam Gale of Horn, a sparse solo guitar piece from Pink Moon, was luminous and intense, culminating in a poignant solo trumpet.
Marika Hackman gave enchanting versions of Fruit Tree and River Man and her take on Time Has Told Me was a wonderfully smoky blues accompanied by drums, organ and guitar (Neill MacColl did some sterling work throughout the evening).
Scott Matthews opened his account with a wonderful Way to Blue with dramatic strings and timpani which, from where I was sitting, at times slightly overpowered his delicate voice, something rectified in the second half for his lovely performances of Northern Sky and From the Morning.
Olivia Chaney (above) gave a strong vocal performance of Hazey Jane I and a terrific version of At the Chime of a City Clock where the strings and horns were again particularly effective. Her solo piano rendition of Time of No Reply was outstanding.
Two of the most moving moments did not feature Nick Drake songs at all but those of his mother Molly. The Unthanks performed touching versions of What Can a Song Do to You? and Set Me Free and were joined by Drake’s sister Gabrielle reciting some of Molly’s poems in both cases. It was extremely affecting.
One can only imagine what Gabrielle Drake must have thought hearing the songs of her brother (and mother) performed in this way after so many years to a packed Royal Albert Hall that listened respectfully and lovingly. It was fitting testimony to the enduring quality of the music of an extraordinary songwriter.
This concert (including interval discussion with John Wilson, Radio 3 presenter Elizabeth Alker and Gabrielle Drake) is available on BBC Sounds until early October. For more on the 2024 BBC Proms, visit the festival’s website at the BBC, and click on the link to read John Earls’ review of Richard Morton Jack’s biography on Nick Drake: The Life.
John Earls is Director of Research at Unite the Union and tweets / updates his ‘X’ account at @john_earls
Schoenberg Pelleas und Melisande Op.5 (1902-03) Zemlinsky Die Seejungfrau (1902-03)
BBC National Orchestra of Wales / Ryan Bancroft
Royal Albert Hall, London Monday 22 July 2024
reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
While the Proms has periodically resorted to re-creating concerts from its earlier years, there have been relatively few attempts to recreate groundbreaking events elsewhere – so making this replication of a programme played in Vienna on 25th January 1905 the more significant. Neither work enjoyed regular revival until the 1980s – the Schoenberg through logistics and the Zemlinsky through inaccessibility – but their expansive all-round scope, and their lavish forces, ensured that both were heard to advantage in the opulent Royal Albert Hall ambience.
It is not clear whether this running-order was that of the Vienna concert, where Schoenberg’s symphonic poem Pelleas und Melisande was lauded as the more original statement. Which is true as regards its late-Romantic idiom on the cusp of nascent Modernism, but the composer made things more difficult than they might be through his approach to form, whose outcome Busoni likened to ‘‘a number of sharp implements jostling in a sack’’. Maurice Maeterlinck’s drama may be covered in its essentials, but the challenge of channelling this into a systematic evolution make for an undeniably episodic trajectory. Ryan Bancroft succeeded admirably in holding together the sprawling whole, not least with his relatively swift (40-minute) traversal that kept the narrative aspect always in focus, while emphasizing the numerous harmonic and textural innovations. Nor was the BBC National Orchestra of Wales lacking in power, finesse or, indeed, that clarity needed to convey the density of Schoenberg’s motivic thinking, but the feeling of this work being ultimately being no more than the sum of its parts was inescapable.
Not something as could be levelled at Die Seejungfrau, Zemlinsky’s symphonic fantasy after Hans Christian Andersen that was well received if soon condemned as unduly derivative and disappeared after the score was withdrawn in 1907 – only to resurface 77 years later. It might lack the force and personality of Schoenberg, but Zemlinsky’s handling of an orchestra only slightly less extensive is comparatively effortless; the formal division into three movements of almost equal duration providing an overview of, without being beholden to the narrative, while enabling its composer’s hardly less resourceful handling of motifs to evolve with due artlessness. True, Zemlinsky’s melodic language leans more audibly on others (chief among them Tchaikovsky and Mahler), but its unforced spontaneity feels in striking contrast to the portentous, even over-wrought aspect of Schoenberg’s writing. BBCNOW responded with unfailing sensitivity, and Bancroft ensured a seamless unfolding over each movement as of the work overall. For all its stylistic derivation, Zemlinsky’s is intrinsically the better piece.
Such an outcome may not have been evident had the pieces been otherwise juxtaposed, such as only made the decision to present them thus the more worthwhile. Clearly attuned to their notably differing idioms, Bancroft brought out the best in both works (interestingly he opted to omit the ‘Sea Witch’ episode from the second movement, excised before the premiere but restored in the critical edition of 2013) – their respective qualities able to be assessed in more objective terms, now that consideration of ‘historical necessity’ has itself receded into history.
George Lloyd Aubade (1971)a; Eventide (1989)a; The Road Through Samarkand (1995)a; The Lily-leaf and the Grasshopper (1972)b; The Transformation of that Naked Ape (1972, rev. 1987)c; Lullaby ‘Intercom Baby’ (1975, arr. 1987)c; An African Shrine (1966)c; The Aggressive Fishes (1972)c; St. Antony and the Beggar (1972)c. The Road Through Samarkand (1972)c
Kathryn Stott (b), Martin Roscoe (c) (pianos) Anthony Goldstone and Caroline Clemmow (a) (piano duo)
Lyrita SRCD.2423 (two discs, 70’16” and 77’55”) Producers bcHoward Devon, aAnthony Goldstone and Caroline Clemmow with George Lloyd Engineers bcHoward Devon, aAnthony Goldstone and Caroline Clemmow with George Lloyd
Recorded b2 June 1987 at Henry Wood Hall, London; c18 & 19 June 1987 at St. Barnabas, North Finchley, London; a4 & 5 November 1996 at St. John the Baptist, Aldeburgh
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Lyrita continues its ‘Signature Edition’ of music composed (and conducted) by George Lloyd with his works for one and two pianos, admirably performed here by a line-up of international stature including those pianists who recorded his concertos for this instrument (SRCD.2421).
What’s the music like?
As Lloyd himself recounted, training as a violinist rather prejudiced his writing for the piano, despite his wife’s prompting. It was hearing the young John Ogdon in the early 1960s that led to Scapegoat, this first piano concerto being followed by three others and several other works for piano over the ensuing decade. For all their diversity of inspiration, they have in common a determination to avoid wanton virtuosity in favour of a technical precision as never inhibits their composer’s aim to realize his musical intentions – whether idiomatically or individually.
This is evident in Lloyd’s earliest and arguably finest work for solo piano, An African Shrine. Written for Ogdon, who played it regularly and recorded in his 1970 EMI anthology Pianistic Philosophies, this takes in several sections – the vividness of whose expressive contrasts are balanced by the seamlessness with which they merge into an unbroken formal continuity. As an evocation of mindless violence, it is highly affecting and its cohesion as a one-movement ‘sonata’ makes for an indispensable addition to British piano music during the post-war era.
Lloyd followed this with the even more expansive Aubade, composed for Ogdon and his wife Brenda Lucas. Described as a ‘fantasy’, its eight sections outline a dream-like scenario which takes in charcoal burners, tin soldiers, a song then dance for two lovers, a medley of bells and chants, then moths; framed by an Introduction and Finale as set the scene thematically then sum it up unerringly. Enticingly realized for its medium if too diffuse overall, this would likely enjoy wider exposure if it were shortened and orchestrated as the ballet it cries out to become.
The year 1972 saw Lloyd immersed in the solo piano. Among these shorter pieces, The Road Through Samarkand is the most directly appealing with its amused if never sarcastic send-up of Krishna adherents in central London with many taking the journey from Calais to Calcutta, though whether the outcome is one of utopianism or disillusionment is left unanswered by the peremptory close. St Anthony and the Beggar is a direct corollary to the Biblical parable, here with an outcome of demonstrable catharsis, while The Aggressive Fishes evokes the allure yet danger of certain tropical species in music alternately atmospheric and ominous. Inspired by a citing from the banks of the Avon, The Lily-Leaf and the Grasshopper is a subtler interplay of contrasts – the insect’s quizzical demeanour emerging out of then back into a rapt waterscape.
The most substantial of these later pieces is The Transformation of the Naked Ape. Taking its cue from Lloyd’s consideration of the essential difference between animals and humans, these six movements (each longer than the last) deftly outline a progression from external to internal properties – hence from Her Hair, via those of Tongue, Eyes, Brain and Mind, to Her Soul – though any inference of increasing spirituality is scotched by the capricious final number of this highly diverting sequence, in which pleasure and provocation have been pointedly elided.
Lloyd wrote little more for piano in either medium, though his arrangement of the violin-and-piano Intercom Baby 12 years on as Lullaby turned one of his most ingratiating shorter pieces into this ideal encore – wistful and playful by turns. Drawing on a carol written when he was just ten (then used extensively in his opera John Socman), Eventide emerges as a fantasy on this tune such as adumbrates a journey from innocence to experience of deceptive simplicity and has enjoyed greater exposure in a no less effective arrangement for brass band two years on. Finally, The Road Through Samarkand makes its reappearance arranged for two pianos – the inherent virtuosity of its writing more equably realized in this medium if, as is suggested here, those elements of struggle and assumed repose more potently realized by the original.
Does it all work?
Almost always. There is a sense of this music (rather its composer) fighting against precedent as regards idiomatic piano writing, for all that the outcome feels never less than effective and often much more so. The performances are highly sympathetic and often inspired – particularly Kathryn Stott with her contributions, though Martin Roscoe affords no mean insight and lucid pianism with his larger selection. The duo of Anthony Goldstone (much missed) and Caroline Clemmow is heard to impressive effect, but sound here could do with rather greater definition.
Is it recommended?
It is. Paul Conway’s annotations feature many pertinent observations, while the solo items are recorded with ideal clarity and spaciousness. Not the first port-of-call for those new to George Lloyd, maybe, but a collection where several items warrant inclusion in the modern repertoire.
Arcana.fm 