Monday, August 26, 2013

Creed's new line of work

I found this at the laundromat:


My first thought was "Damn, what a career downturn." Then I thought of this:


Quick actual music side note: My only intent with this post was to make a dumb parody inspired by this flier. But when he sings "So let's go there," he sings a G really strongly over an F sharp. Which is an odd choice.

And yes, too with one o. I know.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

The worst technically competent and impeccably recorded guitar solo I know

This picture cracks me up.

But this is not an anti-Nickelback post, or even an anti-Chad Kroeger post. Bless 'em. They make a good living doing that thing they do.

This is also not an anti-Alex Band post. I swear, I thought of this post before his recent calamities. In fact, I always thought this song was sung by Rob Thomas.

Huh.

Anyway. This post is about the guitar solo at 2:42 of this song.

The chorus has three chords: B flat, F, E flat (I, V, IV). Santana comes in blasting and bombastically frothing...on a G. Not just a sort of delicate, G to F appoggiatura over the B flat going to F, but no. This is a full-on super-gain overdrive G minor pentatonic statement that is completely foolish next to the lyrical content. Why don't you and I get together...AND DRIVE REALLY FAST AND LIFT WEIGHTS AND DRINK RED BULL AND SHIT! I mean, "take on the world" is...tough-ish. But not "play lousy minor pentatonic licks when it makes no sense" tough.

Here's my guess as to what happened here. Santana was certainly the last to show up for this session. Chad Kroeger wrote the tune, he probably recorded the vocals before Santana took a big dump on the whole track. The problem stems from the intro, which is used as an interlude later: that is in G minor. Carlos thought screw it, I'm going to leave little G minor turds all over this song (which he does), and then he keeps playing G minor licks all through the solo, even though the song/vamp is clearly in B flat major.

I could transcribe this If I felt like it. But I don't. If you don't hear how foolish this solo is than a transcription is not going to help. He almost rights himself at 2:54, but quickly reverts to his "G-centric" ways.

What an awful guitar solo. Sometimes "right" notes are just wrong. And besides the solo, his little interjections during the verse are quite problematic since the chord progression is I, V, flat VII, IV. The G minor thing does NOT work with that A flat chord.

He makes things worse at 3:40 with the "Stairway To Heaven" quotes. My gosh. Maybe that wasn't his idea.

Side note: Lee Sklar is the man and plays on this track. Good for him getting paid.

And I know I said no Nickelback bashing, but...this video makes my "top 10 things on YouTube" list.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

7/8 and metric modulation in Led Zeppelin's "The Ocean"

Here's the main riff to Led Zeppelin's "The Ocean."
The standard notation for this is a measure of 4/4 followed by a measure of 7/8. I have a problem with compound meters. Not that they're hard, but that they always require some sort of explanation and/or additional notation (triangles and lines, etc). This riff does NOT change from "in 4" to "in 7." The whole thing is in 4; as is often the case the 7/8 is split up a certain way, distributing eighths and sixteenths into unequal beat lengths. It's fairly common to split 7/8 up into two "long" beats and two "short" beats, and that's what happens in "The Ocean." Sure, it's 4 eighths+3 eighths. But those last three eighths sure sound like 2 beats to me.
And here I am conducting in 4 badly.

 

It would be great if we could adopt something like the following Carl Orff inspired signature. While a bit clunky (and sloppy looking, but I need to stop trying to make it pretty), it's far more descriptive:

I admit it's not immediately obvious, but if you go back to the first way you learned time signatures (top=how many, bottom =what "gets the beat") it's very simple. 4 total beats, 2 quarters and 2 dotted eighths. And if you're still unsure about the way I've distributed the beats, the metric modulation should convince you. Start at 3:14 and you'll hear the following:
The sixteenth note becomes the eighth note, though I find it much simpler to hear the dotted eighth notes in the 7/8 bar as the new beat, or dotted quarter. Unlike "Say You, Say Me," which becomes "1/3rd faster," "The Ocean" speeds up by 25%--the dotted eighth, which is 75% of a full beat, becomes the beat, thus increasing the tempo by 25%.

It would be great if we wrote this instead of 12/8:
But oh well. Conventions will stand, I figure.

Now. About the "key change" during the verse and Robert Plant's strange D minor pentatonic stylings...a post for another day.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

music talk


Perhaps I'm too sensitive. Ok, yes, I'm way too sensitive. But it seems to me that more than with any other discipline (yes--discipline), everybody thinks they have something to say about music. Almost as embarrassing as someone pretending they know about cars or wine (me on a semi-regular basis).

I just copied this from a comment somewhere in the vast internet areas and regions. Let's just say that AC/DC was involved:

"It's interesting to see this stuff and from where music progressed. I'm always interested in the guitar playing from that era--the approach they'd take to song writing by alternating chords like major, minors, and sevenths just makes an interesting tone."

It just makes an interesting tone! Minors! Let me try this!

Rob Gerry on architecture:

"It's nice to see this stuff and whatnot, and to see where this architecture has progressed. I've always been interested in that. Straight lines, Chrysler builder and stuff. Rectilinear. King Kong. Oh wait, wrong building. Anyway, all those angles just make an interesting look."


If you're a musician, the bit I quoted sounds just as dumb as my fumbling. Maybe dumber (because I'm wicked smart and used the word "rectilinear"). But hey, at least they tried using words like "major" and "minor." In contrast, I copied the following from nprmusic (do I need a proper citation for this junk?):

"Though [artist] remains a gregarious and approachable live performer, [new album] as a whole is a more darkly solemn and deliberately paced record than [previous album]. But even at its slowest, in the tentative search for salvation in its first half, [new album] doesn't drag to a slog so much as radiate reverence, while summoning a slow burn well-suited to [artist's] rich, dusky voice. Then, as the album blooms into something more celebratory — as [artist] begins to find salvation and comfort — the joy in [new album] peeks through like slivers of sunshine."

First of all--tentative search for salvation? It radiates reverence? And what the hell does a "dusky" voice sound like, really? But anyway. Here's my translation, using real music words.

"The first half of Album X is slower and quieter than the second half."

I can't tolerate this. Here's a restaurant review I wrote!

Rob Gerry on food:

"I ordered a meal at Restaurant X. The appetizer didn't drag to a slog so much as it radiated reverence, and the first course summoned a slow burn well-suited to the main course. Then as the main course bloomed into something more celebratory I drank another darkly solemn cocktail, and I soon found salvation and comfort in the dessert. As always at Restaurant X, the service was gregarious and approachable."

Doesn't that sound delicious?? Why is it that music reviews get away with this shit? This is the sort of nonsense we haven't been allowed to write since high school writing class. I'm serious. It needn't be technical. But bullshit like this tells me NOTHING about what the music SOUNDS like. I don't need this guy's meaningless, and totally subjective, piece of shit personal response freshman comp vignette. What does the music sound like? Tell me anything! Instruments? Tempos? Loud? Soft? Major? Minor? Lyrics? ANYTHING.

Oh well. Maybe I should just go to Bar X and get a nice, dusky drink. What kind of drink? I'm not telling. But in it I will be sure to find salvation and comfort.