366 Songs 256: Au Port

Continuing my history with Camille, this was the second song of her’s I discovered. It took just a couple of minutes Googling and comes from the same album as “Ta Douleur,” Le Fil – “the thread,” which in the album’s case is the vocal tone that continues throughout each song. It’s similar enough to see a connection with “Ta Douleur,” but different enough to continue to compel; chattier, more nervous and then flowering at the end into an operatic performance that feels like it came out of nowhere and provides an amazing, hilarious finale to the whole thing.

The version I actually heard first was a live one, with Camille and band performing the whole thing as performance art on Later with Jools Holland; there was something about watching the performance as a whole that left me smiling, curious and knowing that I had to buy the album, and discover more.

366 Songs 255: Ta Douleur

I can still remember hearing this song for the first time, years ago, the first time I’d heard anything by Camille; the sense of discovery, of creativity unrestrained by good taste (The various vomiting noises as the song really kicks in), of having no idea what was being said, and just of falling in love with the noise of it all. I was smitten immediately by the way it sounded so unlike everything else I was listening to at the time, and so complete in and of itself. There were worlds within this song, an identity coherent and personal, and I had to know more. Can you blame me?

Recently Read, Prose (9/17/12)

The plus of the quasi-vacations I’ve just had: A chance to catch up on reading (The Star Trek: New Frontier book, you’ll be unsurprised to know, was the book I read at home on the Monday I worked between trips to Washington and Southern Oregon. Decompression books are decompression books, dear reader). The much-discussed Walter Isaacson Steve Jobs book was a disappointment, in that it skipped over a lot of what I wanted to read about – His wilderness years – and made me almost immeasurably dislike Jobs even as the author fell in love with him, and the Jonathan Carroll collection of short stories that I’d been waiting so long to read also felt unsatisfying, in part because there’s such a similarity in themes and ideas that his words quickly become repetitious and dull, which should never be the case.

That Rick Bowers book about the Adventures of Superman radio show taking on the KKK, though. It’s a very quick read, but for some reason, it’s stuck in my head as something to use as a model for future projects. I just need to work out how.

Do The Romp

As you might suspect, vacation has kicked my ass. Or, rather, trying to get back into things after vacation, considering the amount of work I had to juggle today to catch up and meet deadlines and the like (We only got back into town last night). Expect a weekend of trying to more calmly get my equilibrium, and then some catching up next week, I think. Sorry for the continued radio silence…

“I’ll Let YOU Figger Out The Reasons…!”

Nobody ever asks, but I’m pretty sure that my favorite Marvel Comics character is Ben Grimm, AKA The Thing from Fantastic Four. He’s got the tragic scenario, the faux-gruffness, the New York accent and the visual hook, as well as The Catchphrase; he’s pretty much everything I like about Marvel Comics in one package. Quite why Ben Grimm isn’t everyone’s favorite Marvel Comics character is beyond me.

366 Songs 254: Married With Children

From back before Oasis were Oasis, the final track to their first album, and the first sign, perhaps, that Noel Gallagher had more to offer than just Status Quo Meets The Beatles in his bag of tricks. The sense of humor at play in the lyrics (Yes, that refrain really is “Your music’s shite/It keeps me up all night/Up all night”) against the gentle instrumentation made this the first Oasis song to actually win me over way back when, along with a bridge that swooned far too close to the sun of sentimental softness – “And it will be nice to be alone/For a week or two/But I know then I will be right/Right back here with you” – making the whole thing into a song that undercut the band’s own carefully cultivated thug exterior.

No wonder Noel kept it in the setlist for decades afterwards (I love the organ in the final version below):