Wednesday, December 25, 2019

Music from the '80s still rules at airports

That 1980s vibe: Hollywood-Burbank 'Bob Hope' Airport is among
the airports where music from the Eighties holds sway
At airports I tend to notice the background music (or muzak) that is being piped through the sound system. Increasingly, those ambient sounds are songs from the 1980s, with perhaps the odd one or two from the decades either side of the Eighties.

So what gives? Why does music from the 1980s hold sway in airport departure terminals. What is it about that era that continues to see its songs given preference in such settings?

It could be that many of the people passing through the terminal will identify with the music they personally experienced earlier in their lives. But that theory only holds true for so many travellers, there are plenty of others using the airports who belong to a generation untouched by the Eighties.

I say it has to do with the clarity, simplicity and feel-good combination of the songs. That is what those providing the background music are seeking to provide travellers -  unobtrusive tunes that float around on the periphery of most people's hearing. In addition, for some folk the songs will bring a touch of reminiscence for times past and happy memories.

As a lover of music I enjoy tuning-in to any background melodies. At airports I have particularly noticed the 1980s musical playlists at Hollywood-Burbank 'Bob Hope' Airport, JFK International Airport in New York, and Boston Logan International Airport.

It's not only airports; shopping malls are another venue that often delve into the tunes from the Eighties. What does this say about music? Were the 1980s truly the peak years for timeless, enjoyable mood and ear-friendly music?

Who knows, but I like it.

Saturday, December 7, 2019

Ballad from Haim has timeless quality

Modern classic: Alana Haim takes centre stage for the final verse of the
song Halleljuh, flanked by her older sisters Danielle and Este
If there's one song from 2019 that will be remembered long after the curtain falls on New Year's Eve, it must surely be the newly-released lilting ballad from Haim.

Alana Haim begins the third and final verse of Hallelujah with these poignant words: "I had a best friend but she has come to pass, one I wish I could see now."

It is a song that evokes the style of Simon & Garfunkel, and Fleetwood Mac. However, it carries a charm and resonance of its own and the hallmarks of the timeless classic it is likely to become.

Musically, the stripped-down song is mostly confined to the acoustic guitar picking of Danielle Haim, who also does the largest portion of the singing, although the third and eldest of the Haim sisters, Este, delivers the second verse.

It is the blend of clean harmonies, clear voices and acoustic treatment that so effectively creates this moving ballad. Alana's heartfelt lyrics and the mood of the song are unencumbered by any distractions.

I'll say no more about the song, because it is something that will hold different meanings for each listener, and it springs from a personal story from Alana's life, which she has shared on social media. I have included a link and a copy of the story - in her own words - at the bottom of this blog post.

However, I recommend that before delving into the song's background you listen to it fresh, and let your own thoughts be moved by the mood and sentiments.

Enjoy also this remarkable video, made by talented and multi-Oscar nominated filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson. I love the closing scene where Danielle walks from the cinema, with Este in the ticket sales box, and Alana fixes the signage above.

The video for Haim's Hallelujah:


Below is the tweet from Haim (pronounced HY-im), written by Alana, and including her telling of the background to the song and the loss of her best friend.

As I previously mentioned, the song has such graceful power I recommend listening to it first, and possibly many times over, before reading on to learn the genesis of the lyrics in Alana's own words.


For ease of reading, here are Alana's words from the twitter images:
It’s a song about family, love, loss, and being thankful for it all. It’s hard to talk about my verse in the song but I wanted to open up about it so here i go…
I went through a really dark time when I was 20. I woke up on a hazy October morning to find out that my best friend, Sammi Kane Kraft, had passed away in a tragic car accident. It was a loss that changed my life forever.
Sammi was my everything, and coming to terms with the fact that she wasn’t here, that I couldn’t call her, I couldn’t hug her, I would never see her bright smile and sparkling eyes ever again broke me.
It’s strange but I started thinking about all the milestones in my life that she would never be a part of – like us wanting to celebrate our 21st birthdays in Vegas, or planning all the festivals we wanted to go to around the world, or knowing that when I walk down the aisle at some point she won’t be standing next to me as my maid of honor.
I had always wanted to pay tribute to her in some way and I could never put how important she was into words. It felt like there were no words in the dictionary to encapsulate how special she was. Losing her put a lot of things in to perspective for me. I was so lucky to have my sisters at this time in my life.
There was a point where they didn’t know what to do or say or how to help and them just being there as a shoulder to cry on or as an ear to talk to got me to slowly recover. I’m not the same, I’ll never be the same. The me before took love, friends and family for granted. Now there won’t be a day that goes by where I don’t tell everyone I love how special they are to me.
Though I miss her everyday I know she’s still here sending me little messages, little signs everywhere I go. I always look up and go I hear ya Sammi Sam! Love love love love love you too

Sunday, December 1, 2019

No need to cuss, Del Rey's album elevates

Supersized: Lana Del Rey appears as a giant in the video for Doin' Time.
The video is part homage to Attack of the 50ft Woman.
Don't go looking for wall-to-wall sweetness and light on Lana Del Rey's latest album, because you won't find it.

Yes, she is one of the most talented and significant singer-songwriters of her generation, and her star continues to rise with increasingly accomplished work. She's written and recorded achingly beautiful songs, some are on her latest release - one of the best albums of the year. And I will speak about these in a moment.

However, on first listening to Norman F***** Rockwell, which was released in September, I felt she'd overplayed the cussing. The title track is one of five from 14 that contain choice language. That's excessive in a world where the impact of f-bombs has been hugely diluted through overuse.

Is cussing a sign of the times? I was in an airport terminal bookstore recently and encountered multiple shelves of new releases featuring bold titles yelling things like "Get Your S*** Together" and "Stop F****** up in Life." As always, I studiously ignored them.

But back to Del Rey. On repeated listens I've come to enjoy all the tracks on NFR (as it was craftily titled in the store where I bought it). However, she would have been better served limiting the cuss-word impact. The track where the strong language works best is Hope is a Dangerous Thing for a Woman Like Me to Have - but I Have It, which includes a nod to Sylvia Plath. The mood and content is enhanced by the fearless expression of the lyrics.

Now for the other standout songs to which I alluded. The bulk are in the second-half of the album, although earlier on is Doin' Time, a rare cover version. It suits Del Rey's treatment, and presents her in a switched-up tempo and vocalisation that breaks away from much of the surrounding songs. An imaginative accompanying video for the song pays homage to the cult 1950s movie Attack of the 50ft Woman, and features a giant Del Rey walking through the streets of Los Angeles.

California is a song of relationship and longing, and an example of Del Rey's ability to evoke a sense of place and time, while The Next Best American Record is dreamy and timeless, with sound motifs that harken to the delightfully elegant Love from 2017's Lust for Life.

Another interesting song is Happiness is a Butterfly. You try to catch happiness, but like a butterfly it can elude.

But the best track of the album, that would be The Greatest. It has a haunting, melancholy appeal. The subdued feel nails the sentiments of lyrics such as: the culture is lit ... if this is it, I'm signing off ... the greatest loss of them all. The video for this track is also remarkable.

Norman F***** Rockwell is a new high point for Del Rey, with plenty to elevate the spirit. That said, I sense her best is yet to come.

Video of The Greatest: