Paul McCartney, “Only Mama Knows” (2007).
(4’18”, 7.74 MB, mp3)
(4’18”, 7.74 MB, mp3)
Filed under: Please Mister Please by Ben.H
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Fan Mail!
Sunday 11 October 2009
In the early days of the internet, I used to get email every now and then from deluded fanboys who had mistaken me for a different Ben Harper. Of course, I always replied. That hasn’t happened for years, but last week I got fan mail from none other than the King of the Delta Blues, Robert Johnson. Apparently the afterlife now has email, but not Google.
Mr Johnson’s remarks were apposite, albeit misdirected:
Who did you have to blow to get to the level of semi-fame you have been handed? In your entire career there has not been one original moment. Your vocals and guitar playing, not to mention your lyrics, are dull, and the worst thing is your deep sense of self-importance. You seem humorless and totally self-involved. And you are just generally so AVERAGE. If it weren’t for your connections,you would be playing in a bar somewhere in the Inland Empire on a Sunday Jam night.
I know that your career was handed to you, so that’s nice for you. Since you have a soapbox on which to stand and pontificate, why not take just a minute and write something catchy? Be a pop star and a star-fucker (you already are), and stop with the fake social consciousness.
PS congratulations on those tattoos. They are about as original as your music.
Rolling over in my grave,
Robert JohnsonPS please stop playing my music. It’s embarassing.
As I said, I always reply to fan mail, regardless of whether it’s meant for me or not:
Dear Mr Johnson,
Thank you for your email. In reply to your question, I had to blow an old gypsy at the age of 12 to attain my present day success. Funnily enough, it took place at a crossroads. Ain’t that a kick in the pants? Thought you might find it amusing.
I know I got a pretty sweet deal going here so I have no intention of shitting where I eat and showing up my lack of talent by trying and failing to write something fun and tuneful. As for the fake social consciousness, well as you are aware I have next to no mojo so it’s the next best way to get laid. Sure, they’re those liberal arts student chicks who don’t shave in the right places but they’re hella uninhibited and besides when you’re almost drowning in pussy you don’t want to make waves, you get me? Same goes for the tattoos, they’re a real leg-spreader for the sheltered neurotic type that tend to hang out at my gigs.
To be honest, I have been working on some new material, its uploaded on my new website at http://www.cookylamoo.com/music/. I call it Klezska, its like a combination of klezmer, ska, and polka all wrapped up into one. I hardly need to keep typing cos I know you’re already downloading it, who can resist such an amazing blend of rockin styles. It’s pretty fucking awesome, though I say so myself.
Also, Eric Clapton and I have been talking about issuing a sort of customer loyalty/credit account card with your picture on it. You know, as a tribute. Is that cool?
You’re my idol,
Ben.Harper
Filed under: Music, Stupidity, Writing by Ben.H
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“Only humans carry their fast around, their past around.”
Saturday 10 October 2009
I was uh downloading some mp3s the other day when I found that one of the files contained a bad CD rip. Like, really bad: the track stuck and skipped for minutes on end, like the grotty copy of “Best Beer Songs” on heavy rotation down the local. I sat through the whole thing, waiting to see if enough material had survived intact to salvage the track in editing. It hadn’t.
So instead I removed the good material and, with a bit of judicious editing and mixing, made a new piece out of the rubbish. The result sounds like a good old-fashioned mid-1990s skipping-CD glitch piece, because that’s what it is. Like folk music, its value lies in authenticity instead of originality, created by its circumstances.
Ben.Harper – The Past #3
(9’02”, 14.97 MB, mp3)
Filed under: Music by Ben.H
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It’s A Grand Macabre
Wednesday 7 October 2009
How are you supposed to appreciate a work of art that is intended to fail? The possibilities boil down to “Congratulations, it sucks!” or “Too bad it’s good.” György Ligeti’s only opera Le Grand Macabre premiered in 1978, a little late for the 60s era of irreverent deconstruction. Appropriately, he tried to outwit the Zeitgeist by writing an “anti-anti-opera”.
La Fura dels Baus‘ production of Le Grand Macabre is now being staged in London, where it has played upon, and been played by, the modern-day Zeitgeist. Self-consciously provocative, this production’s central conceit is a coup de théâtre that the action takes place on, around, and especially inside a naked, corpulent woman suspended apparenty in extremis. During the first scenes the audience gently chuckled, even more self-consciously, in an attempt to show the Catalans that these English punters were down with all the sexual innuendo and in-jokes. By and large, the critics were at pains to demonstrate that the show failed to shock them and that the whole affair felt a bit dated, really.
By half-time I was starting to feel that the opera was a fine museum piece, at odds with itself over whether to provoke or deflate its own pretensions. The second half won me over. Ligeti’s score is incredibly detailed – it functions more as a chorus commenting on the characters’ behaviour than as a backdrop to their singing – and the latter half contains some of his most unusual, affecting music. I’ve read some reviews that thought the spectacular set dominated procedings. Well, it did, but the singers were a match for it. Besides attacking their parts with lustily grotesque abandon, they gave remarkably active, physical performances. Depsite Ligeti’s qualms about expecting his performers to be actors and singers, one of the greatest pleasures in this production was how seamlessly the singing and the stage acrobatics blended together.
What really makes the opera succeed is how it fails to fail. For Ligeti, failure is not to be denounced but accepted, even embraced. Having survived two of Europe’s most ruthless attempts to impose an all-encompassing system upon society, admissions of fallibility must come as something of a relief. Who can be disappointed by the opera’s ending, that Death’s “sacred mission” ends in failure? The autocratic prince and his secret police are rendered humourous and charming by their ineffectualness. The chief of police’s fevered babbling becomes a coloratura tour de force; the drunkards’ carousing ends in ringing harmonies. Dross is transformed to gold, and we end up feeling affection for these caricatures.
Ligeti talked about “overcoming fear with alienation“. In a world where we are harried to be more and more fearful about less and less, Ligeti’s comedy has found new ways to prod at our nicely settled discomfort.
Filed under: Music by Ben.H
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The Taxi Driver Looks at the Seine
Tuesday 6 October 2009
The Taxi Driver Looks At The Seine was written in 1993 when I was at a loose end in Brisbane and wishing I was somewhere else. It was published in the first issue of the literary journal pook, the official organ of the Adelaide chapter of The Political Party For Modest Progress Within The Confines Of The Law (Australia). In 1996 the text was performed in a reading at Grey Area Art Space in Melbourne, and has since lain dormant until finding a new home on the web, with added multimedia content (i.e. illustrations).
The illustrative photographs are randomly selected from all public photographs on Flickr tagged with the word ‘Paris’. How they appear on your screen may depend on the type of browser you’re using.
Filed under: Writing by Ben.H
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Please Mister Please
Sunday 4 October 2009
Jon Hassell, “Blues Nile” (1978).
(10’00”, 15.58 MB, mp3)
(10’00”, 15.58 MB, mp3)
Filed under: Please Mister Please by Ben.H
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The Lightning of Idiocy Strikes Again
Sunday 4 October 2009
Me, three years ago:
I just explored one of the last unopened boxes that I packed before leaving Melbourne eighteen months ago. Amongst the electronic gear stuffed inside was an ancient Sony Discman. I popped the lid open and found Disc 2 of a three-CD set of John Cage’s Etudes Australes. It looks like I left the country in a bigger hurry than I remembered.
Me, this weekend:
I just pulled that old Sony Discman again, having stashed it away for a year after its behaviour became too erratic. I popped the lid open and found Disc 2 of a three-CD set again; this time of The Barton Workshop plays Morton Feldman. It looks like I’m even less careful and organised than I realised.
Filed under: Stupidity, The Bunker by Ben.H
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The Taxi Driver Looks at the Seine: Five
Wednesday 30 September 2009
Do you believe in God? Stephane had tried to understand. The parish priest and the mayor often get angry at each other. Which is the best informed? The church is on the right. Come drink to the health of the priest. Let’s drink to your health. I am your mayor. Don’t get mad at me. We’re going to discuss it. I shall pay for your chicken, because it was yours.
Just as you always say no, she always says yes. The revolutionaries had 200 killed or wounded. The mass of the people took the Bastille after four hours of fighting. The fortress was the symbol of arbitrary power. This revolution produced a great impression. You could change profession if you wanted to. I would have liked to study biology. I would like to know how to sew. Why don’t we toss for it? You wanted to understand it. Everything is relative. In that case buy yourself a map and a guidebook. Buy a different paper every day. Remain objective!
I managed to buy a typewriter. Tell your story! Tell your life! I liked nature and open air. I love bicycle riding. I wanted to be a lawyer. In fact, I was good in philosophy. I’ve never gone to Africa. I don’t like racking my brain very much. If you could see my new tie! Let’s say that the style is very literary.
We were in the process of discussing taxes. No one likes to pay any, but it is necessary to pay them. Do you have a car and a washing machine? Incidentally, it is interesting to see why people protest. We’ve made the same mistakes. You refuse to let your trees be cut down. They are right not to give in. Life must have a meaning.
Filed under: Writing by Ben.H
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The Taxi Driver Looks at the Seine: Four
Tuesday 29 September 2009
She managed to get in. He noticed that she was the first. Note that he is very clever. He also produces amazing gadgets. Did he tell you about his trip to Europe? He would have wanted to be a doctor. She is very original and very much of a poet. She didn’t like the factory at all. She prefers the unmarried life. Good for her. It’s better that he does the cooking. She comes from Great Britain. She just made herself a new dress. He is an absent-minded student who is a tragic hero. He’s happy that I’m getting married. What about going to see him? She is arriving in a taxi. Did you talk to her? They still live at the same address. They live on the fourth floor.
My old car has had it. How come? It should have lasted longer. Did you have an accident? Not serious, I hope! Just the same I had to have my nose redone. There was a lot of fog. I was driving too fast. I didn’t watch out for the curve. I’ve never been lucky on Friday the 13th.
The taxi driver is very kind; he is a Frenchman. The French gesticulate so much that we understand them anyway. I’m learning a lot about French life. The taxi driver looks at the Seine. Over there! I see a police officer. I don’t know if he is old or young. I would say that he’s about fifty. I know that he is hungry, I can see it. You are cruel in your description. I often tell myself that they are an anachronism.
The left and the right are traditionally opposed to each other. There are also many communists. The bourgeois are usually on the right. Do you have any in the centre? The farmers want to go to the city. That doesn’t surprise me. Those who have faith are convinced. In any case, I don’t know how to play cards. In mathematics, one needs imagination.
Filed under: Writing by Ben.H
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The Taxi Driver Looks at the Seine: Three
Monday 28 September 2009
When I was a child, I always heard the same story. All men are alike. One had to find a husband. All men are skirt chasers before getting married. Women had to be flirtatious before marriage. Good cooking was the means of keeping the husband home. They had to feed their husband and take care of the children. They didn’t know how to do anything else! Poor women! I am sorry. I don’t like all the clichÈs people use. My friends won’t take long explaining this to you. They are less happy than they believe.
You’re getting married. That’s an important event. I thought you were a confirmed bachelor. But the young optician was very pretty. So you fell head over heels in love. You’re a bit romantic. But love and reason are very different. You are still in the clouds. You’ll get married and you’ll have many children. You are going to sing and dance. With pleasure.
You are a good housewife. You are very happy. You do not have a bird brain. No woman had ever been a great painter. Do you have the time? Men have lots of faults too. One had to marry young. If people don’t get along they divorce. The family has become more fragile. Are men and women faithful. Your dress is very becoming. I like it. Your boyfriend is a flatterer and a liar. I hate that. Did you see Marie? She has a very pretty face with blue eyes. We have heard a great deal about you. I respect you a lot and she likes you well enough.
I have just been introduced to two young people. They are coming to the house tonight. They look as smart as your mother. I am going to pick them up in town. They detest working. Today one chooses one’s religion. Life is easier in the city.
Filed under: Writing by Ben.H
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The Taxi Driver Looks at the Seine: Two
Sunday 27 September 2009
Can you tell me what time it is? I don’t have my watch. It is a quarter to five. We are watching television. That is easy. Sometimes cartoons are crazy. Commercials are like an intermission. The people are happy. You too? The hotel room is very comfortable. I think I’ll come back one day.
What’s new since yesterday? I want you to tour the factory. We’re going there right away. Otherwise what one learns remains theoretical. One ought to work more. You shave fast. You have Napoleon’s profile. I find that you look like my sister.
I’d like to introduce you to my best friend. Very happy to meet you, Miss. Alice is quite inquisitive. She does not put on makeup. That saves time. She is an American. Americans like to play baseball and to box. What does she do the rest of the time? I prefer playing chess and draughts.
You did not like to stay at the same place for long. One day you decided to leave. Where did you go? Did you go by bicycle? No, I did not look for you. What did your parents think about it? What did you do yesterday? You couldn’t get me on the phone? Did you write your parents?
Filed under: Writing by Ben.H
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The Taxi Driver Looks at the Seine: One
Saturday 26 September 2009
Where are my parents? Here they are. I am early. He is very kind. She is very happy. Delighted to meet you. I know everybody, don’t I? My name’s day is on September 6th. I am hungry and thirsty! I don’t like the hotel room; I like the streets and the stores. Come with me and I’ll take you there.
One day I left. I wrote them a long letter. I took my bicycle and a knapsack. First, I am going to the beach. Is it too far away? When the weather was nice, it was wonderful. Since I love fishing, I’ll live on the seashore. If you go there, you will no longer forget where it is. Let’s say that if it rains I’ll stay here. Since it was raining, I did not go back home. Did you look for me?
I caught a severe cold. I am cold and sleepy. I have no change. We have no more bread. We have no luck today. Let us go for a walk and talk for a bit. To be or not to be. That is the question. We did not fear anything. He is very talkative and so am I. Everything is perfect, because I like to talk.
What do you want me to do? I doubt that you will find anything. I did not find any. You have to give me a map. No, you are wrong. It’s better that we take a rest. I want you to get a rest. You were cold while you were walking. What are you doing today? Are you going for a walk? What are you doing right now? You don’t understand very well. You don’t listen to what I am saying. Are you satisfied here? What don’t you like? Can’t you answer like everybody else? Don’t get angry! Open your mouth and articulate clearly!
Filed under: Writing by Ben.H
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Please Mister Please
Thursday 24 September 2009
Tristan Murail, “Vampyr!” (1984). Wiek Hijmans, electric guitar.
(7’14”, 9.93 MB, mp3)
(7’14”, 9.93 MB, mp3)
Filed under: Please Mister Please by Ben.H
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Filler By Proxy LXXIV: Percy Grainger’s Electric Eye Tone Tool
Tuesday 22 September 2009
A short video of Warren Burt and Catherine Schieve playing the last of Percy Grainger’s free music instruments, the Electric Eye Tone Tool:
Between 1954 and 1961, Percy Grainger and Burnett Cross worked on a machine called the Electric Eye Tone Tool. Years later, I was looking at the diagram of the Electric Eye machine in the Grainger Museum and I said, “That should be fairly easy to rebuild.” Well, it turns out it’s not fairly easy to rebuild but it was rebuildable.
The Electric Eye Tone Tool seems to be the first light-controlled synthesizer. Its oscillator circuits were transistorised (more stable than the old valve technology) and could be controlled graphically, simply by painting a score onto a transparent plastic sheet which could then be passed over the instrument’s array of photoelectric cells. Take that, UPIC.
Burt has written a brief study of the history of experimental music in Australia, reprinted at the Australian Music Centre website.
(Hat tip to Mr Graeve.)
Filed under: Filler By Proxy, Music by Ben.H
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Stupid Tuplet Tricks
Monday 21 September 2009
Just the other day I was complaining about writing out conventional dots-on-lines music using notation software. “It needs a regular, steady beat, and needs to know how many beats will be in each bar before it begins to fill them with notes and silences.” I haven’t used notation software for years because it didn’t seem to want to let me do anything fun.
I generally don’t write for human beings anyway, so if I’m writing out musical instructions to be understood by a machine I’d rather use sequencer programs which can give you more direct control over your data. This means I end up punching in lots of numbers by hand* or writing scripts to generate the numbers for me. Now someone’s found out by accidentally hitting the tuplet key twice in Sibelius that you can create all sorts of groovy irrational rhythms and temporal illusions by building up stacks of multiple tuplets, like so (illustrations and sound samples follow).
* or by banging my head against the computer keyboard Don Music stylee.
