GHBeats

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Yeezy going

Kanye West has reemerged in the past few weeks following over a year of near complete radio silence. This may or may not have something to do with the fact the he is set to release a new album on June 1st - aptly named Love Everyone. And, over these few weeks, he’s managed to generate controversy to levels only surpassed by the current US President. And that’s saying something.

It started with a Twitter storm on his newly reactivated account, which had him implying that he was supporting said US President, even though his policies are often racist (or at least appear to be) and that the African-American community, by and large, opposes his administration. That episode included a text exchange with John Legend, which West shared on twitter, in which Legend was essentially conjuring him not to misuse his platform. To no avail: West predictably doubled down.

Then came a nearly 2-hour long interview with Charlamagne Tha God, of Breakfast Club fame, who has risen to become one of the most noted African-American media personalities, as well as a friend to West. He couldn’t have picked a better context to speak his mind. Unfortunately, that discussion included West asserting he was the greatest artist of all time (sorry Leonardo, Michelangelo, Pablo...), that Life of Pablo (sic) should have received more coverage than it did, that people were generally not appreciating his talent to its rightful level. Even if Pablo made it to #1.

Then came arguably the craziest moment in media that I have seen in a while, and that, again, takes into account a twitter-obsessed US President: Kanye West showed up at a TMZ live show (!), reiterating his recent claims (!!) and adding a few: that slavery had in his opinion been a choice (!!!), that he was been addicted to pills for a while (rather unsurprising), that he had gone through liposuction to look good (the gym works too), even though his mother famously died that way. This was a rather symbolic moment of art seeming to dissolve into fame culture, with a major artist willingly using a tabloid platform to express views that have little to do with his art - or reasonable discussion.

All joking aside, beyond possible scheming to sell records (or, rather, generate streams), it appears that West is a) rather honest about his claims and truly appears to support Trump, think he’s underrated and all of the above, b) despite claims of having recovered from his 2016 meltdown, still looking quite visibly unsettled. I do count My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy as one of the greatest albums released in my lifetime, and “Jesus walks” as one of the best tracks in recent years, but its creator may very well be in trouble. The rarefied air of worldwide recognition and success comes with its own pitfalls, as has been shown time and time again, especially in the music community (see: 27 Club). Here’s to hoping West recovers from this and finally reaches some semblance of peace. Even if it means his music becomes less intriguing.

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Just walk away

I have yet to see Three billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri, but I can already tell I’ll like it: it was written and directed by Martin McDonagh of In Bruges fame, stars Frances McDormand of Fargo fame (among a few others)... and the soundtrack features a gem I had all but forgotten about: The Four Tops’ Walk away Renée.

The song beautifully closes the movie trailer and sets the tone: a classic, yet delicate piece of classic / pop / soul crossover writing, much in the vein of The Supreme’s I hear a symphony, another Motown classic of the era. Perhaps more striking is the bridge halfway through the song, which serves as a beautifully arranged complement to the beautifully ethereal melody of the track.

Interestingly, however, this song was not composed by Holland / Dozier / Holland, Motown’s most important writing team (who actually wrote I hear a symphony, among an absolute slew of cult classic songs). Instead, it stands as the creation of Michael Brown, lead songwriter and founding member of The Left Banke, who performed it first - with great success too.

This may explain that the songwriting style differs ever so slightly from more classical Motown staples, insofar as the melody and arrangement veer more into 60′s pop territory (Brown was heavily influenced by bands like The Mamas & the Papas while writing it). This may also explain the fact that it is not as well remembered as The Four Tops’ Reach out I’ll be there, It’s the same old song, Bernadette... (the list goes on). Even though it deserves to be.

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Excuse my French (speaking)

I don’t often listen to - or compliment - French speaking music. Not that I’m shying away from my roots (I am French in more ways than I care to admit), but I tend to favor Rock n Roll and Soul tunes, none of which constitute the traditional French musical canon. However, once in a while (and thanks to my girlfriend’s rather eclectic taste), I stumble upon great French speaking gems. Here’s my current top 3.

A taste of Corsica

Julien Doré is a bona fide star in France: he starred in the local equivalent of American Idol a while back and has since quite successfully managed to establish himself as a genuine artist and musical creator, unlike most of his TV peers. The main reason for that being that he is actually talented, sings well and has somehow avoided the pitfalls of early fame.

And he’s currently back on the air with a single taken from his fourth album and poetically called Porto Vecchio after a city on Corsica’s Southern shore. It is a nice, slow moving, almost atmospheric song, in which Doré half whispers his lines on top of a very simple, yet extremely effective keyboard track. It may not be the best song of the year (or the one before that, since it technically got released in 2016: I can be slow sometimes), but it sure is a highly enjoyable listen!

Party like it’s 2017

Rarely do we get newcomers who are original enough to come with their own sub-genre. Such is the case of Eddy de Pretto, who emerged on the French music scene earlier this year with a first EP aptly called Kid and showcasing what has come to be known as the “genre-free” style.

His first single, Fête de trop (”One party too much”), provides an infectious hook based on a very simple beat, clean cut vocals with an overall flair of somewhat melancholic contemplation. Coming from a brand new 20-something artist: such is apparently the millenial generation, far less optimistic about its prospects than even we 30-somethings were. In any case, that is one hell of an entrance on the scene.

Know thyself

This one is neither new nor French. He is 3 months older than me (it counts) and hails all the way from Quebec. And his name is Pierre Lapointe. He actually is somewhat of a music and media star, having hosted a daily radio show in France, as well as over 10 albums to date.

His last one, published this year, includes the single Sais-tu vraiment qui tu es (”Do you really know who you are”), opening with a brilliantly simple bass line and slowly morphing into a beautifully mid-tempo song complete with strings and a remarkable music video. Lapointe’s voice provides a subtle narrative to yet another sweet and sour contemporary story. It would appear that Baudelaire’s spleen has finally conquered all of French (speaking) culture.

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Rock trinity

We will eventually live through a new golden age of popular music. Until then, the most recent episode took place in the latter part of the 1960′s, and three groups of men are essentially responsible for it.

The first one, chronologically, is Phil Spector. Arguably a one-man band, he revolutionized popular music production in the first half of the 60′s, creating what has since be known as the “wall of sound”, thanks to his incredibly rich mono recordings filled with lead vocals, back up vocals, strings, brass sections, rhythm sections, more vocals... Through records by the Ronettes, Ike & Tina Turner and the Righteous Brothers that he produced, wrote, arranged and occasionally performed on, he was the pioneer of modern music - period. He is also now serving a prison sentence for murder, but that’s another story.

The second group was the Beach Boys, which I had yet to mention on this blog. Fronted by the brilliant if troubled Brian Wilson, the family band progressively morphed into one of the most creative and experimental music outfits ever. Their time came with Pet Sounds, the group’s 1966 effort, mostly composed and recorded by Wilson while his brothers were out touring (his stage fright had made it impossible for him). He was openly inspired by Spector’s wall of sound, which he adapted as the “wave of sound” to fit his Californian sound better. Yet, the album is less youthful and optimistic than it is a melancholic masterpiece full of incredibly well crafted ballads, starting with Wouldn’t it be nice and God only knows. The record didn’t fare that well when it was first released; it is now considered one of the few defining works of the 20th century.

The third and last group is, of course, the Beatles. Lennon and McCartney’s gang knew of Spector and loved Pet Sounds. It is said that the latter specifically inspired them to create Sgt Pepper’s lonely hearts club band, their 1967 opus which eventually became their biggest record and the one which has almost unanimously been considered as the “greatest album of all time” - if ever there should be one. A day in the life, the album’s last song, would alone make it historical; the rest ins’t bad either. Lucy and the sky with diamonds is a groundbreaking sonic experience; Within you without you is the first major Western pop song to feature Eastern stylings and instruments; With a little help from my friends is a textbook perfect ballad... the list goes on. No matter what any of us consider to be the greatest band, album or song of all time (in my case, Queen, The Wall and Queen’s The March of the Black Queen respectively), the Beatles are technically it. Call it artistic consensus.

By 1967, Spector was already semi-retired (he would come back to produce the last album of... the Beatles). Brian Wilson was, however, still in full creative force. Until he heard Sgt Pepper and reportedly became obsessed with besting The Beatles. His attempt was Smile, an album he unfortunately only finished decades later, after a major nervous breakdown and 20 years of therapy (not all of which was necessarily helping). For all intents and purposes, the Beatles came out as the greatest musical force of their generation, the 20th century - and possibly more. Wilson eventually recovered enough to start composing and playing music again, although he never could quite reach the heights of his youth (who could, really?). Still, he is better off than Spector.

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Bloody royal

England has been the epicenter of rock music since (at least) the 60′s. Rather interestingly, it took an old, traditional culture to turn African-American blues into modern rock and roll (albeit with the help of Americans Sam Cooke, Ray Charles and the Motown gang). Which gave us, in no particular order, the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden and the Sex Pistols (among others).

Every few years, the UK (or England, however restrictive you want to be about the definition) churns out a new great rock band. Manic Street Preachers in the 90′s and Stereophonics in the late 90′s / early 00′s were recent prime examples of the phenomenon. And I’m not even talking here about Brit Pop, with the likes of Oasis and Coldplay, which stand on the verge between Rock and Pop (like their illustrious predecessors, the Beatles).

Then, a couple of years ago, another new band emerged, which had managed to craft a very energetic, yet beautifully contained breed of classic rock complete with spotless contemporary blues-rock production. That band is Royal Blood, a duet (it’s the new thing these days, from the Black Keys to the Kills and White Stripes) composed of a singer-guitarist-bassist and a drummer (it’s arguably harder for the drummer to do anything else than drumming).

Their first major hit came a few years ago with the great Figure it out, taken from their 2014 eponymous debut. In a little over 3 minutes, you get one hell of a dose of raw power, building from a beautiful crescendo throughout the verses that transitions into an amazing bridge... before the chorus finishes it off. It would be very hard to get any better at rock, now or then. The music video perfectly complements the work, with a wildly engaging - and fierce - story that could very well make for a stand alone short film.

Since then, the duet has released a second album, How did we get so dark, containing the notable single Lights out, which so far confirms two things:

1. Royal Blood are indeed a major musical force in today’s rock and roll scene;

2. Figure it out is hard to surpass.

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Nightcalling

Rarely has a film reached cult status faster than 2011′s Drive. There are a lot of remarkable things which can help explain such a rare feat: great casting, subtle storyline (if often only implied), incredible cinematography... and a perfect score. A lot of which is actually taken from other classic films, all the way to 70′s Italian cinema, but also some which were created for the occasion. The prime example of it being the title track, Kavinsky’s Nightcall.

Kavinsky is a french 40-something DJ who has been active on the Paris electro scene since the mid-2000′s. But I - and the public at large - hadn’t heard the guy’s name before the release of Drive’s trailer. Which I watched because I had already seen director Refn’s previous offering, Valhalla Rising, and thought it was positively intriguing (as well as Bronson, which came before that). And so I discovered a musician from my hometown thanks to a Danish director releasing a Hollywood movie. As one does.

The song itself is a gem of retro-80′s electro production, not the first of its kind but still one of the best examples of the resurgence of said sound. We have since heard Daft Punk and Justice - other French electro stars - follow the same path with equal success (if not matching movie soundtracks). Interestingly, Kavinsky’s entire album, OutRun, is incredibly consistent with Nightcall, creating a very distinct musical universe. Albeit not necessary a very varied one.

The man has not released new music since 2013. Regardless, he knows he’s already up there in the pantheon of music in film - if not music period.

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Mystified

The first time I heard about Father John Misty was only a few months ago, when he performed on the stage of Saturday Night Live. I mean, properly heard about him: it turns out I’d known him for a  quite a while without realizing it...

The gentleman, whose real name is Josh Tillman (the stage name choice was obvious here), has been touring and recording prolifically under various stage names and with various musical entities for years. His first proper hit - and the first thing I actually saw of his - was 2012′s Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings, taken from his first album as Father John Misty and featuring Aubrey Plaza in the video (which is arguably why I watched it). He released another record three years later, steadily increasing the reach of his music - and the size of his fanbase.

Then came Pure Comedy, his latest effort released earlier this year which prompted the Saturday Night Live performance. The album showcases an evolved, refined, richer sound. It does manage to retain the folk roots of Misty’s previous works, but adds more classical and melodic influences to the mix to create a rather baroque, often surprising, always entertaining record.

Pure Comedy’s best single - in my humble opinion - is Total Entertainment Forever. A perfect example of the musical wealth of Father John Misty circa 2017, its influences encompass Radiohead (from the OK Computer era), Bill Joel or The Divine Comedy to name just a few. And the video features veteran actor Macaulay Culkin this time, in a Spike Jonze inspired wonderfully burlesque short story.

Since that SNL episode, I have seen Father John Misty in a variety of TV shows, including some where he was being interviewed. His smart and quirky answers only prove the depth of his creative world - and the wealth of what’s to come...

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Motown: the musical

I have been spending a few days (mostly off) in London this week. Which was the perfect occasion to see a musical, of course. The choice was: a) Michael Jackson’s Thriller, where you know you’ll enjoy the songs, b) Les Miserables, where you know you’ll enjoy the story, c) Motown - the musical, where you know you’ll enjoy the songs - and the story. Unsurprisingly, we chose option c.

The musical is built around the story of Motown founder Berry Gordy, from his youth dreaming of becoming a boxing world champion to his early attempts at songwriting to finally starting Motown - and only slowly getting any success in doing so. If you know the story of Motown, the show is a delight; if you only know the standards, you might miss a few references here and there, but you’ll still greatly enjoy yourself.

From Smokey Robinson’s Miracles to Diana Ross’s Supremes to Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder or the Jackson Five, you need next to three hours of stage time to even try to cover it all, through a plethora of cult songs like Stop! In the name of love, What’s going on and ABC. And also I heard it through the grapevine; and also My girl; and also War; and also Reach out I’ll be there; and also... The list goes on, as we all know.

The performers, mostly young twenty-something singers (and dancers, except for Marvin Gaye, who stands rather still) are remarkably talented, with powerful vocals that beautifully remind us of the original artists’. Diana Ross, arguably the hardest part to play (or, rather, sing) was off to a slightly rough start, with a first song that was a little weak compared to the incredible original, but she quickly geared up to truly take center stage by the end of the show.

And this is saying nothing about the artist playing Berry Gordy himself, who is present in almost every sequence, acts, dances and sings throughout - and does a great job at all of the above. During the first twenty minutes or so, you could see that the actor was not quite fine, coughing in-between songs, but never did he miss a note, or deliver a weaker than expected word.

It’s just that London is a little chilly this time of year...

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H-Burnt

I don’t listen to French music all that much (despite the fact that I am French and live in Paris). Even more rarely do I truly fall for any kind of French music, with the possible exception of electro greats like Daft Punk, Justice or Kavinsky. But never rock n’ roll stuff. Then, a couple of years ago, I discovered H-Burns.

By chance, might I say: I was listening to my favorite French rock radio station and a song started playing, Six years. From the organ-filled intro and the infectious drumming section that immediately followed, I was hooked. The lyrics were in English - and sung without a hint of French accent - so I assumed this was some US indie rock band I hadn’t yet heard about.

Indeed, the track sounded very North-American, and with good reason: its producer was none other than Steve Albini, the guy who (among other things) was responsible for Nirvana’s last album, In utero. If one ever needed a reason to believe me whan I say that H-Burns is worth a listen.

The guy (to make things even better, H-Burns is just one person) had actually released several albums before that one (Six years is taken from 2013′s Off the map) and he has released several more since, including this year’s very enjoyable Kid we own the summer. However, sans Albini behind the wheel, his sound has slowly morphed into quieter, slightly more electro-filled productions. Very well crafted, but not as ridiculously efficient as Six years.

Here’s to a very interesting French artist nonetheless, hoping he finds his way back to 3-chord rock staples...

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Remembering Fats

Illustration: Klaus Hiltscher (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Two days ago now, music pioneer Fats Domino passed away at the venerable age of 89. He was part of the very select group of musicians who effectively contributed to creating the rock n’ roll sound that came to define 20th century music - and beyond. Yet, fairly little is known about him today outside of the music world - and I, for one, know of him rather than him.

His most notorious achievement, the one song he is most profoundly associated with, is one of those - few - absolute standards billions of people on earth have listened at least once. It is, of course, Blueberry hill, a song he uncharacteristically didn’t write, but nevertheless produced a historical rendering of as early as 1956. The piano riff alone is so recognizable that most people will only take a few seconds to associate the man with it. Very few artists can claim that.

Yet, the importance of Fats Domino is much larger than that. He also composed - and performed - the early rock n’ roll classic Ain’t that a shame, made famous by Pat Boone. As well as Walking to New Orleans, My girl Josephine, Walking... Listening to those songs now is almost like getting a lesson in musical history: their structure, rendering, rhythm, arrangements, production style all sound familiar because they have been emulated - or downright copied - by scores of musicians in the decades since they were recorded. Much of which happened in the 50′s and very early 60′s, before most major rock n’ roll artists had even started their careers.

Indeed, Fats Domino was one of those original minds who managed to truly change the landscape of popular music. Along with Chuck Berry, B.B. King or Bo Diddley, all we are now left with are great memories. And only two remaining giants: Jerry Lee Lewis and Little Richard. May they be well.

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Sgt. Pepper isn’t lonely

Easy one: who hasn’t dreamt of seeing the Beatles performed live? (Answer: everyone, even those who don’t know it). Easier one: who hasn’t dreamt of seeing them perform Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (what a title...) live? (Answer: need I even specify?).

Since 1980 and the (still) tragic passing of eyeglassed frontman John Lennon, seeing the Beatles perform has become somewhat of a challenge (although I have seen Sir Paul live, and it is one hell of a show). However, contemporary British musician and Beatles enthusiast Ed Harcourt had the great idea of answering the second question - and assembled a dream supergroup for a one-time only (well, technically two-time) performance of the entirety of Sgt. Pepper live. In Paris too, to make things easier for me.

The event took place last Sunday and the line-up included (besides Ed Harcourt, obviously) Barrie Cadogan of Primal Scream, Scotsman Steve Mason, half of Supergrass including Gaz Coombes (who actually did more than just perform but also occasionally acted as - supporting - band leader) and... half of the Libertines, namely Carl Barât and Pete Doherty. No fucking less.

Harcourt, although I’ll readily admit I don’t know much about, performed hosting duties remarkably well, including piano, guitar, vocals... and sitar for good measure. Coombes and bandmate Danny Goffey were impeccable and provided quite a bit of the structure of the show. The band was perfectly complemented by top notch strings and brass sections in order to replicate every single nuance of the highly demanding recording.

Then came lead vocalists. The best surprise of the evening, as far as I am concerned, turned out to be Carl Barât, who shines in the Libertines, although that is a fairly reachable goal. Solo, on stage, performing Beatles material, his voice wonderfully echoes that of Paul, which is no small feat. On the other end of the spectrum, Pete Doherty emerged on stage by song #3 in blue overalls - because why not - to deliver what was easily the least pitch-perfect rendition of the night. He obviously sang his heart out, and at times reached the high notes, but he just sounded too rough in such - good - company...

Never mind: the Beatles also had their touch of chaos...

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Not my lover

What else can one write about the king of pop’s best selling album of all time’s arguably most memorable single? Maybe just that: that it is still so incredibly, instantly, pristinely memorable.

The artist is, of course, Michael Jackson; the album is, obviously, Thriller; and the song is, naturally, Billie Jean. That Quincy Jones-produced masterpiece spawned so many singles - 7 out of 9 songs, might as well pinpoint the tracks that were not released as singles - that it would actually be a little hard to take one as the definitive song of the record (or artist, or decade... or all of modern music for that matter).

Two other tracks will probably come to mind as strong contenders: the title track, of course, with its instant classic music video; and Beat it, with its classic Van Halen lick, which instills the same kind of perfectly infectious beats, sounds, rhythms... that whole unique blend which quite simply revolutionized music back in the fall of 1982, 35 years ago almost to the day.

However, for some reason, Billie Jean stands apart even amongst those gems, by virtue of its absolutely irreproachable production - and irresistible feel. The beat is incredibly simple, the rhythm is rather slow, the chord progression is almost ridiculously basic; yet the end result stands out as a brilliantly coherent piece of work, as near to music perfection as one can probably ever get, then or now.

The best proof of Billy Jean’s astoundingly long lasting power is this: even though the track has covered and sampled - at least - thousands of times since its release, not a single version has ever even come close to that kick the original record gives you every time you listen to it. Still.

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Justice for all

Last Saturday, for the first time in a while, I went to see a show at Paris’ newly renovated - and poorly renamed - AccorHotels Arena. The night’s main performer were Justice, one of France’s top electro bands, second only to Daft Punk if I am to be believed. The opening act turned out to be a veritable best of of Justice’s - and Daft Punk’s - record label, Ed Banger, led by its leader no less, Pedro Winter, aka Busy P.

But that was nothing compared to what was coming: a little before 9:30pm, the duo from Justice took the stage and, for the next 90 minutes, never left it - or stopped playing for that matter. The performance was a proper sonic and visual barrage, with each song seamlessly mixed and sampled with other beats, one subtly intertwined into the other.

The set opened on Safe and sound, the first single from the band’s third and latest album to date, Woman, albeit sampled with bits of their megahit D.A.N.C.E.. Then came, in no particular order, Genesis, Stress - with an absolutely insane accompanying light show -, Audio, video, disco, and their latest hit, Randy. And then D.A.N.C.E. again, although entirely reengineered. The whole thing felt incredibly fresh, with remarkable work that had obviously been put into creating an atmosphere so intense I had to close my eyes at times, such was the cumulative effect of light, sound - and age, probably.

All in all, Justice really didn’t disappoint: without technically speaking the entire night, these two guys were able to create a sound so rich and powerful that it left us all on our toes - literally: no one was left sitting that night. With good reason.

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Someone like us

It’s hard to write a classic. It’s harder to write a classic in your lifetime. It’s hardest to write a classic in your early 20′s. Yet, somehow, British musical phenomenon Adele (notice that we’re on a first name basis with her: she’s that culturally significant) achieved just that - repeatedly. Arguably her best work - to date - is the riveting Someone like you, taken from (only) her second album, 21.

Like the album name implies, Adele wrote that song around the age of 21, i.e. barely legal drinking age by American standards. Yet she managed to pen one of the most candid and meaningful songs about heartache and relationships the (pop) world has ever seen.

We’re all heard it many times, from the piano intro, to the beautiful verses to the uproarious chorus where Adele’s incredible vocals simply take over whatever your were feeling that very instant. It’s hard to analyse a song we have heard so many times - and which was very few flaws, if any really.

And that is just the studio version of it. It went even better live. The best performance she ever gave of the song - that I know about - was at the 2011 Brit Awards, introduced by then far less known James Corden, standing alone on stage with a piano player and very nearly breaking into tears as she went on singing what has already become the anthem of the decade.

Earlier this year, word got out that Adele was having health issues that might prevent her from singing live ever again. If this turns out to be true, it will undoubtedly be a great loss for all of us. But, at the very least, we already have that recording.

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Slow burn

The most viewed Youtube video ever, no less. Almost 4 billion views in only 8 months: not even Korean sensation and former Youtube record holder Psy - or Queen Bee herself, for that matter - could surpass that. Or reach that, really. Luis Fonsi achieved the impossible: come from relative anonymity in the English speaking world to global superstardom - in the English speaking and far beyond.

And he did so with one song and one song only: Despacito. That’s all it took. Granted, there were two versions of it: the original one featuring fellow Puerto Rican Daddy Yankee - the one that blew over - then another with former teen heartthrob Justin Bieber himself, which garnered another half billion views - to date.

Because yes, Mr Fonsi happens to come from Puerto Rico, that island whose official status is “US territory” and which, immediately following the release of the song, saw a massive surge in touristic interest - right before hurricane Maria came wiping out the entire place, leaving it weeks later still largely without electricity.

Rarely has timing been so tragically concentrated: within a mere few months, Puerto Rico saw one of its biggest pop stars put the island on the map (forgive the Trump-esque pun) before nature came destroying most of its infrastructure. At the very least, Luis Fonsi’s success provides a new and powerful voice, among the Ricky Martins and Lin-Manuel Mirandas of this world, to sing the praises of the poor and battered island.

Also, that song is impossibly infectious...

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River high - Mountain deep

At age 26, Phil Spector retired. The man, now 77 and in prison for homicide, once was arguably the greatest producer of his time - after Sir George Martin, of Beatles fame, that is. And he’d started young, too: he had his first #1 nationwide hit in 1958 with To know him is to love him - at age 19. And that was not just as producer: he also wrote the song, and performed it with his then band, The Teddy Bears.

After that, he decided he would focus on producing, as it was the part of his work he enjoyed the most. And he went on to create some of the most famous tracks of the early 60′s, including You’ve lost that lovin’ feelin’ by the Righteous Brothers, He’s a rebel by The Crystals and what has more or less become his signature track, The Ronettes’ Be my baby. He created those last two bands as well: there is no better way to define your own style than to hand pick every single member of the orchestra...

In 1966, Spector had long created his own musical doctrine, lovingly dubbed the “Wall of sound” for its incredibly rich production aesthetic, with dozens of instruments, vocals and back up vocals subtly intertwined on mono recordings to create a veritable barrage of soulful pop greatness. That is when Ike & Tina Turner, already stars in their own right (and a good decade before people got wind of Ike’s questionable private behavior), came knocking at the door of Phillies records, Spector’s label.

His first major production for the duo, River deep - Mountain high, was a perfect example of Wall of sound-type production, from the triumphant intro to the Tina’s incredibly powerful vocals to the enthralling crescendo towards the chorus... The man himself was extremely pleased with the result and went on to say this was his best work - ever. The record was released: it reached #88 in the pop charts. Interestingly, it did significantly better in the UK (reaching #3) but the damage had been done: shocked by his country’s inability to recognize genius when they heard it, Spector chose to retire.

He would later come out of retirement for special projects - such as Beatles albums - but, for the large part, he remained quite discreet after that episode. Until his prison sentence, that is: turns out things could get worse...

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White bear/Brown bear

There are quite a few excellent blues rock musicians hanging around today, including Jack White, Dan Auerbach (plus both of their other incarnations), Nathaniel Rateliff, Gary Clark Jr... And these are just top of mind “big” names. Jack White, arguably the purest of them all, has managed to recreate a beautifully raw, yet wonderfully sophisticated sound, starting with any of his guitar riffs. Yet, even he will rarely get to genuinely surprise you.

Enter The Temperance Movement. These are (now) four 20-something lads from Scotland rocking your ass off from the incredible opening riff to the final note, with an infectious energy, a smoothly evolving melodic structure and one hell of a guitar section. I discovered them - as I assume many have - with the title song from the second and most recent album, White bear. And that’s exactly how that song plays out.

It came out last year, at a time I felt acutely frustrated for not being able to find great new sounds, and fearing it was - already - an age thing: there comes a point, for all of us, when it gets hard to appreciate and welcome new art, especially when it comes to music, a young (wo)man’s art form if there ever was any. Then, one morning, as I switched on the radio before getting into the shower, I heard that opening riff. In only a few seconds, I felt both relieved and excited: relieved because this proved that my ability to spot out good new stuff was not gone (yet), excited because I wanted more of it.

I listened to that album’s other single, Oh Lorraine, which is also great, although technically not as incredibly striking as White bear. But I’m clearly on the look out for album #3. The way things are going, it could be fucking magnificent.