I forgot to post this…
And given how I feel tonight, I just thought posting something positive was the way to go.
I forgot to post this…
And given how I feel tonight, I just thought posting something positive was the way to go.
I would have just had to see the album cover for Beirut’s 2006 debut album Gulag Orkestar to have known they would be something special.
As it was, I discovered the thanks to Spotify’s auto-curated playlist the app plays at the end of an album. Band of Horses’ debut Everything All the Time finished up and Spotify began picking songs based off that last selection. A song by Beirut came on, and it had my attention immediately. Accordion, Balkan-style brass, and a modern rhythmic sensibility. It piqued my interest to say the last. I dove in, choosing their second album based on the cover art itself:
“Cliquot” is a song of longing, a song of nostalgia, a song that is at once timeless and modern. “I didn’t know people made music like this anymore,” I thought when I first heard it, immediately listening to it again.
“Gallipoli” with its electronic opening sounds starkly different, and then the horns enter, and you start to notice a trend in Beirut’s music: brass plays the central. Cue the drums and you have a song that sounds completely different than “Cliquot” and yet strangely similar. The vocals enter, and you wonder if it’s not Morrissey singing.
So we’re on this journey into Beirut’s music together and you look at me and say, “I think we’ve found the common thread.” And I say, “Yes, but we haven’t heard the newest album, Hadsel from 2023.” The organ begins and sudden, it’s as if we’ve never heard Beirut before — totally different.
That angelic voice! Those harmonies! All weaving about the organ (a 19th-century organ in Norway). “This is a new side of Beirut,” you say.
And then the trumpet enters.
Lest one think one has cornered Beirut, there’s songs like “Fyodor Dormant,” which begins with an electronic intro that sounds more like eighties dance music before the horns come in, turning the relatively simple intro into a multi-layered Balkan dance tune.
It even has a drum machine! “A totally different Beirut!” I declare. You smile: you’ve given this a surreptitious listen before. You know — the trumpet is coming.
“East Harlem” is up next, and we’re in familiar territory: a squeeze box introduction. And suddenly there’s piano playing eighth-notes as rhythm. It’s a different side. A lighter side. And then the trumpet enters followed by the other brass instruments, and everything changes. Back to a new same old Beirut.
But where is that pure Balkan-flavored music we got a taste of with “Cliquot”? “Let’s go back to the debut album,” you suggest, and there it is.
“I wonder what Beirut would sound like trying to create a pop so with a catchy music video to go along with it,” you muse. Sounds impossible after “Prenzlauerber,” but if we’ve learned anything about Beirut it’s that nothing is impossible. Cue: “No No No.”
And finally, perhaps their finest moment to date: “Arctic Forest.” That music can be so calming, so beautiful, and yet have a beat that renders some kind of movement irresistible — even if you don’t have a dancing bone in your body — is a miracle itself. Add to that the gorgeous arrangement that seems to build but never overwhelm, and you have one of the most perfect songs ever created.
Beirut has been making music for over fifteen years now, and we’ve only now discovered this treasure. It could be worse: we might never have met with this perfection.
In short, the most original and creative musician currently working.
First (and maybe only) full family concert.
Here’s a video of the Boy’s spring band concert.
I’ve been trying to get the deck finished for what seems like an eternity, but it keeps raining. I thought I had a window this morning, but just as I stepped outside, it began drizzling.
I turned my attention to the kitchen sink instead. We’ve long needed to rip out the old silicon and replace it, but I couldn’t find any black silicon. Then I realized it wasn’t actually supposed to be black…
In the afternoon, I took a chance and finished the deck. Normally, that late in the day, putting water-proofing on the deck is a terrible idea. It doesn’t soak into the wood; it cooks on the surface and then gets sticky. I figured, though, that since I only had to do verticle parts of the railing, the freshly-sealed surfaces wouldn’t actually be getting in direct, 90-degree sun exposure. And also, if it does turn sticky, who’ll ever know? It’s not like you’re going to walk on it.
In the evening, we (minus L, who had volleyball practice followed by track practice) went to a local university for Music By The Lake. A local youth orchestra was performing, and to our admittedly-slight surprise, we discovered Mr. K, E’s band teacher (and favorite teacher), runs the whole program.
Clover was just excited to get out of the house.
The Boy’s school band went to a local amusement park (outside Charlotte — I guess “local” is relative) for a band competition. All three bands (sixth-, seventh-, and eighth-grade bands) got superior ratings.
E had the chance tonight to have his newly-acquired trombone skills evaluated. We drove to Dorman High School, saw hundreds of other kids who were being evaluated as well,
and made our way to room 9 (actually B117–not sure why they re-numbered the rooms).
The Boy walked in, performed his solo piece perfectly, and walked out with the scoresheet to prove it.
His band director took a picture and told us that students who earn a “Superior” rating must, simply must, go out for ice cream.
“We were ready for the rating,” I told Mr. K. “We bought some earlier today!”
Got to see Pat Metheny perform live tonight.
Everything I expected, and more…
It’s something D and I have wanted to experience since we were just a little older than the Boy: a live performance of old Genesis music, in this case, the entirety of Foxtrot, which includes their magnum opus, the 23-minute “Supper’s Ready.”
The whole show was amazing — but I obviously didn’t film the whole thing…
Some locals weren’t too happy about the fact that the Swedish band Ghost was going to perform locally at an amphitheater. A band whose gimmick is lyrics that openly profess love for the devil is not going to be too welcome in the Bible Belt.
So they started praying — Jeania was praying for a lightning storm and posted about it on the venue’s social media feed.
And wouldn’t you know it — a rainstorm came through and washed the concert away. Jeania will forever see this as an answer to her prayers and proof of God’s greatness. She will talk about it at church this Sunday. They might even have a hallelujah moment about it.
Meanwhile, there were many Christians posting in response: “We are Christian fans of the band.” “We recognize performance/entertainment when we see it and don’t feel threatened by it.”
Relationships are what teaching is all about. Once you have a good relationship with the kiddos, almost anything is possible. The incorrigible become a little more compliant. The withdrawn start to speak out a little more. The insecure grow a little more self-confident. It’s a wonderful thing to see.
In the past, I’ve concentrated on getting to know my students without really worrying about letting them get to know me all that well. Sure, they know a lot about me: they know I love dad jokes because I try to tell them one every day; they know I like to cycle because I ride to school occasionally; they know I love Poland because they see it in the pictures I hang all around my room and the customs I share with them during the year. But beyond that? Not too much.
So I hit on an idea and a challenge for myself: make a playlist on Spotify of songs that have I’ve loved over the years. The catch: I will never repeat an artist.
I’ve got a list made out already — up to 96 songs, and I don’t feel like I’ve gotten started…
Took the Boy to see a performance of Mahler’s Second Symphony last night. He was impressed, but not overly so…
We’re looking into various middle schools for the Boy. Tonight, we went to listen to a band concert at a local middle school: the Boy is, after all, very interested in music.
His verdict: it was fun.