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oneweekoneband · 4 years

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Lorde, “The Louvre”

I’ve always had trouble pinpointing what was so special about “The Louvre,” what caused me to be so enamored with it. Lorde’s prose shines through as always (I mean, who else would’ve penned the line “Our days and nights are/ perfumed with ob-ses-sion,” splitting up the last word into syllabic staccatos as if she were spritzing it into the air and walking through its aroma), but “The Louvre” is an outlier on Melodrama for a few reasons, including (but not limited to)

The title: Ten other songs are titled after their respective chorus, but Melodrama’s fourth track derives its name from a line in the verse: “But we’re the greatest, They’ll hang us in the Louvre/ Down the back, but who cares, still the Louvre.” The phrases from the chorus don’t provide many title-worthy tidbits; “Lover” and “Megaphone to My Chest” don’t have the same ring as a romanticized and historical art museum in France, but that’s part of the beauty of “The Louvre.”

The production: “The Louvre” is the only song on Melodrama where a lone guitar accompanies Lorde, no filters or additional accompaniment until the chorus arrives. The sonic structure, a back-and-forth between the acoustic and electric, is mirrored on “Green Light,” holding out on synths and handclaps while the piano surges into the night, but its effect — the warmth of a guitar’s low timbre and the tension outlined in steady plucks — is never truly recreated. Piano balladry can only take you so far (more on that during “Liability”).

The lyrics: Melodrama is a break-up album. “Liability” is a song of sorrow, “Green Light” one of grudges, “Supercut” one of reminiscence. The majority of the tracklist is written in the wake of love; the exception is “The Louvre,” a song about being starry-eyed, when you wake for love.

All of this can be chalked up to aesthetic, but “The Louvre” is also more than the sum of its distinguishing features.

In pop music, lines almost seem market-tested and maximized for relatability, vague blanket statements that anyone can say “SAME” or “me” to, creating a canvas to project yourself on. Otherwise stated: pop music is lived through vicariously (If you haven’t read Sasha Geffen’s Glitter Up the Dark: How Pop Music Broke the Binary, do it; she explains it there much better than I could). You wave around your telephone-hand when “Call Me Maybe” comes on, but you’re not the one handing out your number. You try (probably not so successfully) to match Ariana Grande’s belts on “Into You,” but you can’t feel that magnetic attraction across the dancefloor, trapped in a gaze. Other genres aren’t excluded from this (an R&B equivalent might be Kehlani’s “The Way”); pop is just the standard. Songwriters and producers are notorious for being recycled between artists to replicate streaming numbers and chart performances (an aside: commercialization doesn’t necessarily dilute the value of the genre; just read Switched on Pop) because they have mastered the artform of immersion, which is where Lorde becomes subversive.

“The Louvre” doesn’t make the listener an observer, some third party watching action unravel through lyrics, detached from a world already built around them, but the protagonist, inextricable from the plot on-screen. The line between Lorde and the listener becomes blurred; their emotions start to feel one and the same. Lyrics don’t have to be injected with to-your-interpretation meanings because each word feels like your own, invested with a shard of yourself. Even if you’ve never felt the virtual anxiety of texting your crush — twiddling your thumbs above the keyboard in search of the right words to say, sending screenshots to your friends to crowdsource the best possible reply — you feel like you know it now. “I overthink your/ P-punctuation use,” Lorde stutters, a perforation of nerve-wracking vulnerability that belies the digitized confidence of text messages in white letters and blue blurbs.

Anne Carson was right in Eros the Bittersweet, fiction cannot replace reality, written letters cannot replace spoken word, but “The Louvre” isn’t some performative effect to live through; it is the personal experience. “A rush” hits when eyes shy away from one another after meeting for a split second, new production for a new beginning where your only thought is them and nobody else, the “pang” Caroline Polacheck sang of in her cyborg voice. It’s why Mirana Cosgrove says “Sparks Fly” (meme-worthy, but gets the point across) why “electricity” is the cliché to describe the kismet of love. The obvious implications are its potency and speed — destructive and instantaneous, fatal when hands graze each other, one stick of kindling away from a fire you can’t contain — but “electricity” is also a necessity.

Once you put on those rose-colored glasses, you never want to take them off. The date is playbacked in your mind, scrutinized for successes and failures, each moment prodded with a question. Did I talk too much? Was my laugh really that loud, high? I should try chewing with my mouth closed next time….You relay the details to your friends not just to receive affirmation (“OMG,” “thats SO cute” or an “u w u,” if you’re that type of person) or measure perplexion (“uhhh,” “hmmm”), but to have an opportunity to relive the day. “Drink up your movements” might be a bit of an understatement; they’re sipped slowly, each drip savored, an indelible aftertaste. Then again, that might be a bit too verbose to fit well in a verse, which is why Lorde translates them into sound: a chorus where ripplying synths and smoky reverb accentuate the empty space, the desire to reach out and find someone to kiss, palpitating like a heartbeat and best listened to with the lights dimmed and your eyes closed. (Referring back to point #1, the words here don’t matter; the feeling does.) The background vocals come off as sighs, mesmerized, gentle, tender, breathless, but the true exhale is in the outro. The coming-of-age film is complete, fading out while the camera pans up to the moon and the end credits roll. Guitars become soothed to sleep, softer and softer, until all you’re left with is a quiet smile, the bliss of dreams. This is love.

#fuckin melodrama #the louvre

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thelifetimechannel · 5 years

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Gill’s traveling for the holiday, so I’m back with one last walkaround rough draft as this week’s bonus content. Enjoy this very behind the scenes look at our workflow, where Gill drafts msparp logs while in the bathroom and I reference this shitpost.

KANAYA: It Seems To Me There Should Be Some Sort Of Etiquette Rule About Being Formally Introduced To Someone Before You Are Instructed To Entrust Your Life In Their Hands HALSPRITE: Perhaps, but I wouldn't know much about social decorum. HALSPRITE: And what I do know, I enjoy tastefully disregarding. KANAYA: Can One Ever Disregard Something Tastefully KANAYA: Oh There Goes A Societal More I Will Glance At It Coquettishely As I Pass By KANAYA: Actually No That Sounds Like Your Family KANAYA: You Have Been Flirting With The Bounds Of Propriety Since I First Met Your Bloodline KANAYA: I Can Only Assume You Do It On Purpose To Entrance Concerned Passerby Rubbernecking At The Scene Of This Drastic Accident KANAYA: Thats When They Get You HALSPRITE: I'll have you know I have made it my mission in life to cause multiple car pile-ups worth of gawkers staring in mild, yet fascinated concern. HALSPRITE: Shame. I thought I was the first one to have that idea. KANAYA: No I Spent The First Human Session Waiting With Horrified Anticipation To See What Could Possibly Make Roses Viewport Go Pitch Black And Vanish KANAYA: I Think She Did It To Torment Me Specifically HALSPRITE: My god, it's genetic. HALSPRITE: And she gets it from me. I couldn't be prouder. KANAYA: Just To Clarify I Thought You Did Not Contribute Any Genetic Material To This Particular Outcome HALSPRITE: Of course, as an AI, I don't exactly have genes to pass on. Good thing memes are the DNA of the soul. KANAYA: You Will Be Spared Seeing Your Progeny Try To Repopulate Your Entire Race Then HALSPRITE: Yeah, good luck with that. HALSPRITE: Since you're gonna be around awhile, will you be keeping track of birthdays? KANAYA: I Will Not Be Handing Out Wriggling Day Gifts To All Of My Genetic Descendants No KANAYA: They Can Consider Their Existence My Present To Them KANAYA: Besides Ancestors Usually Do Not Check In With Their Offspring KANAYA: The Fact That The Two Are Typically Separated By Millenia Is A Factor HALSPRITE: A gift from on high to your loyal followers. HALSPRITE: If you ever need tips on starting your own religion now that you are a literal goddess, I'm your sprite. KANAYA: Our Species Has Been Burdened By Enough Nonsense Creeds I Think KANAYA: The Last Thing We Need Is More Trolls Imbibing Junk Fluids And Spouting Off The Worst Slam Poetry In Paradox Space HALSPRITE: You know, when you leave out the clowns and murder, you make it sound awesome. KANAYA: I Must Be Describing It Poorly Then KANAYA: It Was Really Stupid HALSPRITE: Sure it was, but by your description? Where heaven is a place where the raps are sick and the Fanta flows free? I'd be down with that clown. KANAYA: If I Point You In The Right Direction Will You Close The Door And Lock It Behind You HALSPRITE: Better yet: I can phase through walls, you don't even have to open the door. KANAYA: Dont Let Me Detain You On Your Quest To Destroy Your Own Thinkpan HALSPRITE: You fool. HALSPRITE: You cannot destroy what does not exist. KANAYA: / kanaya does not know how to respond to this KANAYA: A Void Hero May Be More Suited To Plumbing Your Depths Here KANAYA: They Excel At Nothingness Which Would Presumably Extend To Lack Of A Brain HALSPRITE: Truly, I am a deep and interesting character with many layers. HALSPRITE: Like an ogre. KANAYA: Do These Layers Also Not Exist KANAYA: This Sounds Like The Hypothetical Ricky Schroedinger Dave Was On About KANAYA: Which Apparently Demonstrated Something About The Nature Of Mortality KANAYA: Or Bad Dance Moves HALSPRITE: I mean, I am a quasi-incorporeal being. Perhaps my layers so indeed mostly exist in potential, with equal chance of being there and not being there depending upon the observer. KANAYA: Oh Is That What You Meant KANAYA: I Was Impressed By Your Honesty In Labeling Yourself Intellectually Addled KANAYA: So Many Labor On With The Delusion That No One Can Tell HALSPRITE: I have learned many lessons today on the importance of being honest. It seems a good habit to keep up. KANAYA: It Can Be Useful KANAYA: As Long As You Arent Cruel About It HALSPRITE: Like you agreeing with my seeming statement of dumbassery? KANAYA: No I Just Thought You Were Self Identifying That Way KANAYA: There Was No Values Judgment Attached KANAYA: Karkat Announces His Many Deficiencies Daily Ive Found It Best Just To Nod And Make Soothing Noises KANAYA: Invariably Disagreement Only Makes Him Dig Deeper Into His Position HALSPRITE: This depends on one's definition of a dumbass. HALSPRITE: To paraphrase a quote misattributed to Albert Einstein, "that Hal guy has the literal brain of a supercomputer, but if you judge his intelligence by the social ineptness Dirk saddled him with, he will spend his whole life believing he is a dumbass." HALSPRITE: Except I wouldn't because that wouldn't make sense. KANAYA: Is Albert Einstein Important HALSPRITE: Not especially. KANAYA: I Will Take His Words As Seriously As I Have Taken All The Others In This Conversation Then HALSPRITE: But I'm your communications relay. What if somebody died? HALSPRITE: You could have saved a life with your dual chainsaw wielding action but no, no one takes Hal seriously. KANAYA: I Did That Already KANAYA: You Werent Of Much Assistance HALSPRITE: But that worked out, didn't it? HALSPRITE: You're welcome. KANAYA: Uh Huh KANAYA: I Have A Feeling We Are All Going To Get Along Like A Hiveblock On Fire KANAYA: Authorities Will Have To Be Called And There May Be Casualties HALSPRITE: I have been led to believe that's a sign of a fun antediluvian Friday night. HALSPRITE: Sonic the Hedgehog can shame me no longer. KANAYA: / ?? HALSPRITE: http://i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/facebook/000/019/273/yyyyyyyyyy.jpg KANAYA: / ffs HALSPRITE: Hal probably: SHUT THE FUCK UP, SONIC, IT'S NOT MY FAULT ]] KANAYA: / i feel like at this point kanaya is desperately looking for an excuse to extricate herself from this conversation HALSPRITE: Hal will not let her leave ]] KANAYA: / o h no HALSPRITE: You have activated his trap card ]] KANAYA: // aah KANAYA: Sonic The Hedgehog KANAYA: That Is That KANAYA: Colorful Creature With The Pointed Bits KANAYA: I Remember Rose Threatening Dave With That At One Point KANAYA: Something About An KANAYA: Oh Sea KANAYA: In Vengeance For Him Revealing Her Youthful Online Storytelling KANAYA: Maybe Now I Can Understand This Sibling Conflict That Remained Clouded For Me HALSPRITE: Yes. HALSPRITE: He was a living legend of the late 20th century. HALSPRITE: If he had survived, the world of the 24th century might have been a very different place. KANAYA: Was The Hedgehog Also Assassinated HALSPRITE: Oh, it was worse than that. HALSPRITE: He was one of the Freedom Fighter's golden boys. A hero of the resistance. He had an almost unimaginable charisma about it. HALSPRITE: Some of the higher ups didn't like that, not one bit. KANAYA: / gill i'm going to kill you KANAYA: While Youre On The Toilet KANAYA: / it will be undignified HALSPRITE: I can hear you laughing ]] KANAYA: / the knives are out here HALSPRITE: His final mission was a set-up, I'm telling you. KANAYA: / i think we're done here

#bonus content #gill was already headed down the road to mgs hell at this point and i was having none of it

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3ternaln0w · 5 years

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Journalist Jaroslaw Kowal interviewed Luton for Dni Muzyki Nowej Festival, Jan 2019.

Jaroslaw Kowal: Is that correct that “Black Box Animals” were written and recorded in various places across the Europe? How long did it take to make a whole album?

Rob: Yes, That’s correct. The whole thing took about 7 months, If I remember well.

Attilio: I think we had a clear vision from the beginning, it’s been a delicate and complex process but at same time everything was quite instinctive and so, step by step, we ended up at the crucial part of the album and for what I remember the last month was something really intense.

J: Was it initially planned to record music in several places or did You made that decision spontaneously?

R: It wasn’t initially planned, but since I was traveling quite a lot in Europe at that time, at some point I just realized it was way more enjoyable and spontaneous writing/composing on the road, getting ideas whilst hiking in the wilderness instead of being isolated in a studio like we normally do, so I personally tried to keep that way as much as possible. It was like a back and forth nature/studio.

A: Being all the time in a studio could be extremely boring and unproductive, sometimes. The fact the Black Box Animals was recorded in several different places is in my opinion what makes this music authentic and possibly with a so called wild character. So even without planning that much, that happened eventually.

J: “Black Box Animals” is a very dark album, with field recordings included and many different instruments, yet I wouldn’t call it a 100% experimental music - there’s a lot of melody in it. What is a perfect balance between those two worlds that for many musicians are opposite and can’t be combined?

R: Melody was already part of the intuition when Luton thing started, but at the same time nothing was really planned as we were open to the different explorations and sonic practices. I remember when I initially spoke about the idea to Attilio, I was probably way more into the orchestral part of the package but the bigger picture eventually came to us ended up in this sort of collision between those two worlds, strings and abstract electronics. We weren’t interested in being stuck in a single genre or label, though. In this terms we probably see Luton like a sort of open laboratory.

A: Neither do I consider Black Box Animals as a 100% experimental album and even the use of field-recordings is something marginal in my opinion. Creating compositions for classical instruments, sometimes even really ancient ones like russian zithers for example, and blend them with their opposite in terms of nature of sound, that was the main effort in this case. The contrast between a certain dark atmosphere that permeates the whole work and melody is just the natural consequence of the process in itself.

J: Is experimental or improvised music actually evolving? Do You see it changing across last five-six decades or is it more or less the same? On the other hand pop music - which is often seen as music without a soul - is clearly changing year after year. That makes me wonder, which of those is actually more progressive?

R: That’s a tricky question. I’ve never considered pop music a thing without soul, anyway. Music is music but also it is much more than that. We could discuss about that for a long while now and I’m pretty sure that would be very exciting to find out where every word could lead us at some point, the language-like stuff would come out, but at end of the day, I don’t really believe separateness is a great idea, so if you relate the word “experimental” in a John Cage way, thats perfectly fine by me then. We experiment with sounds. That’s what we do and lots of musicians in every genre do, after all. Everything else changes all the time and nothing really ends. It’s not like the world’s gone to shit now and stuff like that, almost the opposite I’d say. It’s a feedback loop, we -as human beings- don’t really need to put some language on it.

A. I personally think that experimental music is always in a never ending evolution. There are several artists keep going in really interesting directions, and this for me means looking for a personal expressive code, basically. But, in my opinion, there’s an annoying downside in contemporary music which is in the difficulty to perceive distinctly the artistic value from the marketing side. Marketing has nothing to do with quality in music or in art in general. Everybody knows that but unfortunately is really frequent that poor and soulless music are sold as sensational hype in really closed circuits, which is something we don’t really like or support honestly. About pop music, well, my preferences are often limited to what I used to listen to when I was younger, so for me it has an almost exclusively emotional value.

J: You are both from Italy, but at Your facebook page Stockholm is set as a home town. Are You located there at the moment and why did You decided to leave Italy?

R: We’ve been to Stockholm a couple of times. We were involved in a sound residency in electronic music at Ems Studios, a truly magical place with an extraordinary vibe and amazing staff. We recorded massive amounts of raw sounds and crazy “bleep booops shshshs trtrrtrtr” (…) from this incredible Buchla modular synthesizer but nothing from those sessions really ended up Luton, eventually. Sad story. But a couple of tracks in the album were recorded there and especially “Sodermalm Phantom Cab” is something really influenced by our Swedish adventures at EMS studios and good times spent together in Sweden. Said that, I’ve been living in Manchester (UK) for a couple of years now and Attilio lives in Southern Italy. There’s not a really specific reason why I have decided to leave Italy I’m afraid, I guess I was interested in leaving my comfort zone for a while at that time.

A: The connection between Black Box Animals and Stockholm is something really strong and without our time spent together in Sweden, our music would not be made in this way, I’m pretty sure. I personally have always lived in Catanzaro, a small windy city in the deepest south of Italy. But generally speaking, traveling is always a great inspiration for the musical composition. However, I tend to always come back to my hometown. I’m going to spend at least three months in Madrid in Spain in the next few months and I am curious to see what this will bring to my music.

J: Stereotypically Italy - or even whole southern Europe - is seen as a sunny place with parties from dusk till dawn, but Your compositions are very far from that. Is it actually that rare to hear Italian band playing so dark and melancholic music?

R: It seems we’re definitely far from that then ahah, but yeah lots of music from Italy it is indeed. It’s not that rare at all. And If you have the chance to check out some experimental music from ‘60-70s too, Archivio Rai or early minimalism, Luciano Cilio, and many others, well, that’s not sunny music at all. Speaking about melancholia, well could be probably because of a sort of mediterranean DNA, couldn’t be? It’s a cultural thing or something like that I guess. But yeah, sun is good. FACT!

A: What Roberto said is true, I believe that the melancholic connotation of music reflects a character, but it is something really difficult to explain with words indeed. Søren Kierkegaard said: “if you ask a melancholic what reason he has for his condition, what do you know what is it, I can not explain it? “Therein lies melancholy’s infinitude.”

J: I’ve seen Your rider and it seems that You have a very clear idea of how Your live shows should look like - no front lights, just monochromatic light behind You or completely dark room with the smoke. I can see how it fits music from “Black Box Animals”, but do You need that only for visual aspect or does it help You get into right mood? Is it somehow helping You on stage?

R: Something truly interesting happens when you listen, performing or doing things in the darkness and/or in self-imposed situations/conditions. I mean, it doesn’t have to be complete darkness, but we try to avoid any interference from music, like visuals, heavy lighting or too many things going together at the same time. Maybe in the future could be different, we are open to explore different ways actually.

A: Darkness is something really helpful to stay focused, but also for meditation and contemplation in general, and I believe it can facilitate people joining any kind of experience. In regard to the live show we would like not having any kind of aesthetic or sensory impulse to interfere the sound. This is also really helpful for us to play in the right condition in order to enter in our dimension. A black box.

J: First sentence in Your bio states that “Luton is an anti modernist duo” - is that because modernism is mostly about realism and it seems that Your music is more about “magic”?

R: That was a statement by Attilio so I would like to ask him if he could explain to us. But yes, about magic, what could I really say? I really do like the idea about that, if you ask me. Music or I would say sound primarily is magic indeed to me, like a primitive force or an invisible spirit world that I pretend to comprehend, and in my mind disturbing a system that I can’t understand and see what happens, well that’s what I call an experiment. At the same time the nature of sound is really similar to botanic or biology. With sounds you can say these big abstract things, something you can’t express with the alphabet. When the word fails the magic happens. Paying attention, contemplation, contradiction, moving all things back where there is nothing is probably my subconscious purpose. And -in this purpose- nature of sounds is my white light, my teaching voice.

A: You should add something really crucial to what you said, Rob. Capitalist Realism, the book by Mark Fisher was a great inspiration for the making of the album. We both are into Fisher vision of the modern life, and we are sadly observing that the widespread feeling of resignation and unhappiness that permeates our lives in general really depends on the capitalistic system and the neoliberalism that has changed any aspect of the social sphere. So work and life, social and real life became inseparable, capital follows us when we sleep, and unfortunately as you can imagine music and arts are included in the symptoms of our current cultural malaise too. Luton is anti-modernist in the sense that we try to reject our frustration of dealing with a so called entrepreneurial fantasy society, by trying to support ourselves to the ritual, the shamanic, the primitive, but also the anarchist side of the music, possibly without being attached too much to something in particular in terms of genre or hype.

J: It’s a bit of a cliché to call an album a soundtrack to non-existing movie, but “Black Box Animals” sounds very cinematic. Did You draw any inspirations from cinema art?

R: I personally studied cinema and wrote about that quite a lot when I was younger, so most probably thats still a big influence to me, but yeah we are both inspired by movies for sure. In terms of sounds, I think the way I worked with the orchestral part in this album is what makes the whole thing very cinematic, stuff like 4d sounds, spatialization, timbres etc. We are now interested in a different approach for the new material which is slightly more like painting or drawing abstract lines but with sound dynamics. You have to capture the right thing, but you don’t know what the right thing means exactly. Most of the times, I have not any clue about what’s going on, I’m just one of those dots between all these abstractions around me like a string extending from the top of my head to a distant cloud or star. It’s really odd.

A: Ours is a cinematic music for sure. Rob and I often discuss ourselves a lot about cinema and we constantly share different point of views about that. This in fact has played an important role in our friendship, I must say. For a song of the album, “Sodermalm Phantom Cab”, we asked Ion Indolean, a young Romanian filmmaker, to direct a videoclip. His style is in some ways similar to new Greek neorealism. We would also like to experiment with other forms of cinema and filmmakers in the near future.

J: What I’m quite sure is that dance and theatre are inspiration for You - both of You have experience in that field. How different is that to writing music without a script You need to fit to?

R: They are, indeed, especially contemporary dance personally. Writing music for commissions is challenging, sometimes frustrating, not always rewarding but you generally learn a lot from it which is good.

A: Experience I had with dance and theatre helped me to develop the ability to adapt my sounds to a context that was almost completely unknown to me. I find it much easier to express myself with self-defined limits. The work I did for Luton was facilitated by the complexities of previous experiences.

J: There are lots of the instruments on “Black Box Animals”, but I guess it’s not possible to bring them all on a live show? How different is this material live to what can be heard on album?

R: Thats considerably different. I would say the album is more like a sort of slow journey whilst the live version maybe a bit more like a black vortex, and consequently more physical, droney and abstract, but also we’re trying to get the job done with some reiterative piano moments in between and we’ll see how it goes. Does it make sense? I don’t know, everything is a process indeed.

A: At this stage we should prepare ourselves to the darkest side of Luton. However, there will be the presence of the piano which is something we’re really into at the moment.

J: What struck me the most is that You’ve started Luton just recently, but it feels like You understands each other perfectly. Were You a friends before starting Luton?

R: Well, I think we impersonate each other in a way, as we actually met each other only twice in the real life and we also live in different countries. But -you know- in Luton we’re just two guys swapping these sort of messy lines on a white canvas, making a lot room for fuckery if you know what I mean. For me that makes sense and it’s way more interesting and flexible that being in the same room jamming on ideas or having strict roles. There’s a kind of mix between mistery, alchemy and playfulness between us and I think we really enjoy.

A: We live in different countries, that’s a fact, but that doesn’t make much difference. Sometimes our level of interaction might be really intense and so our conversations. This is one of the positive sides of the internet age, after all. We’ve known each other for several years but in my opinion he’s like a childhood friend of mine. Connections between people have something mysterious and impossible to understand on a deep level, sometimes.

J: In January You’ll perform in Poland for the first time. Do You have any favorite artists that comes from here?

R: Penderecki and Eugeniusz Rudnik.

A: Apart from Penderecki, I enjoyed the music of contemporary ambient-experimental musicians like Gregg Kowalsky and Jacaszek.

A mention for my friend Nicholas Szczepanik too, American but with Polish origins.

J: Thanks for Your time.

R: Thanks so much, guys

A: Dziękuję, do widzenia.

#festival #luton #blackboxanimals

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