Sinead O’Connor doesn’t immediately spring to mind when you say “chicks with guitars.” She doesn’t live in the American Northwest or sing duets with Emmylou Harris, and—if memory serves me—never performed at Lilith Fair. She also tore up a picture of the Pope on TV, something that doesn’t appear in the “chicks with guitars” etiquette handbook.

Yet, the girl rocks on a six string, writes wickedly smart lyrics, and has, rather famously, a voice you could pick out from an Irish chorus line. She’s also irregularly more fascinating than your average singer-songwriter: a crippling depressive who found the strength to assault the Catholic church, a woman who became ordained as a Priest, an Irish traditionalist who found redemption through reggae. O’Connor’s life and work is oddly feminist and epic, as if Jane Austen smoked a doobie and penned The Odyssey. And on the bookshelf of life, her story would make the raging nothingness of Kurt Cobain his generation’s Jabberwocky—all noise, no reason, and plain silly.

I have loved much of O’Connor’s work and admired much of her life, but no song gets me yelling and screaming like “No Man’s Woman,” her polemic about love, gender, and the solidity of faith. I had planned on linking to an MP3, but finding none, discovered the video on YouTube. How odd it is: out of sync, melodramatic, a bit clumsy at times. But also occasionally stunning, if not for O’Connor herself then the image of her as bridesmaid, tattered and lumbering through Dublin, dying and then reborn through music.

No Man's Woman

Last Day of our Acquaintance

Troy

Further Links

Wikipedia

MySpace

SkreemR music search

LastFM

iTunes

This post is part of Chicks with Guitars, summer long festival of estrogen-enhanced music.

80′lerden 500 Yabancı Hit. Bölüm#2
Bölüm#2 içerisinde sanatçı isimleri J-S arası 150 adet şarkı mp3leri bulabilirsiniz.

500 80’s Pop&Wave Songs Part#2
Part#2 contains Artist name J - S   150 mp3 Songs

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This video is goofy, but the song is what I'm interested in, progish metal band UFO's "Too Hot to Handle". Great, loud, and dirty hard rock riff pushes this song along with some pulsating bass work and steady drumbeat, while the singer shows off his chops with a classic metal voice. Holy crap, the guitar solo on this song is to die for - not only is it super fast, but it doesn't sacrifice emotional intensity, which is something that can happen with metal bands and their solos when more emphasis is put on their technicality rather than the emotional effect of the notes in the solos. Oh yeah, there's a closing guitar solo too, what more can you ask for? Ok, so the lyrics aren't anything to die for, but sometimes depth in lyrics isn't needed to make a good song or a good band.

One of my favorite songs from The Human League's smash album "Dare!"; this song's called "Seconds". An underlying ominous keyboard beat gives the song a dark tone, while the drum machine keeps a good beat, and a synthesizer provides an epic sounding melody. The music is great and the song is good even if it were just an instrumental, but the lyrics are what really make this song excellent. The lines "It took seconds of your time to take his life", "the shot that was heard around the world", and "poor thing, hiding from the sun, waiting for the golden one, waiting for your fame, after the parade has gone" make it clear that the song is written about John F. Kennedy's assassination, with the "poor thing" line in particular berating Lee Harvey Oswald. To add to the tone of the song, there's even some synthesized noises meant to sound like a gunshot. Really interesting song, from a band that's mostly known for it's two hits "Don't You Want Me" and "(Keep Feeling) Fascination" - political lyrics like this aren't something that most would expect from a band that's associated with 80's synthpop.

Hailing from New Zealand, Split Enz's "I See Red", 1979's "Frenzy", is a song that should be synonymous with New Wave. The rhythm of this song is kept frantic with the crazy carnival sound of the keyboards and the distorted guitar riff (which gives it a nice, punky edge), with the bass and drums not really making much of an impact. Tim Finn sings the song with the anxiousness of a bonafide madman, and is supported with the vocals of his younger brother, Neil Finn, giving the vocals a primo harmonized sound. The lyrics aren't anything special, though the line "squeezed me out of your life, down the drain like molten toothpaste" is a nice use of metaphor, but besides that, they're about the anger at a failed relationship (getting dumped, basically). Love the piano break about 2/3 through the song, followed by a frenzied guitar solo by Neil Finn. The general bounciness of the band members adds to the song's tone - no complaining from me here.

Ah, this song brings me back to the days of high school, watching MTV in the morning before school (back when MTV still showed music videos). Chevelle's "The Red", from 2002's "Wonder What's Next", is a good metal song. Some brooding bass and simplistic, but powerful, guitar work drive this song along, with a distinct 2000's metal sound to it. The lyrics really hit me here - "they say freak, when you're singled out, the red, well it filters through" and "this change, he won't contain, slip away, to clear your mind" describe what a person with anger issues goes through - "the red" being synonymous for the all-encompassing anger that can occur with such individuals, that can cloud their minds. Having anger issues myself, I definitely take the song personally. The video supports the song well (in that it does actually relate to it), with the singer taking the podium at an anger management meeting, and the crowd slowly going crazy with anger, hitting each other with the chairs in the room. The guitar solo isn't anything to die for, but fits well with the general rhythm and feel of the song, and the slight screaming from the lead singer up the intensity (whose vocal style strangely enough reminds me of Maynard James Keenan from Tool and A Perfect Circle). The bass player has some nice background vocals that flesh out the vocal portions of the song.

Not a song I listened to at work today, but one I randomly decided to listen to when I got home. Despite my obvious preference for listening to bands with male lead singers, I do like Sinead O'Connor (oh, and she's Irish too - yay Irish!). Orchestral strings that sound like they're being made by a mellotron give the song a melancholy quality, and Sinead sings with great feeling and pitch, though does sound somewhat nasally when she sings "to you" during the chorus. This makes me want to check out some more of her stuff - I have a feeling I won't be disappointed (having previously heard Sinead sing a duet with Matt Johnson of The The).

Sinead O'Connor & The Chieftans

Sinead O'Connor

Embassy Hotel

1988

I knew about Girl Talk before all you clowns. Forgive me for sounding cooler than thou, but it's not every day that I can claim to have been ahead of the trendiness curve solely because I'm from Pittsburgh.

With that statement out of the way, I can now launch into my long-planned review of the new Girl Talk album, Feed the Animals. I say "long-planned" because the album's been out for a few weeks now, but I became sidetracked by the Olympic Trials. (And, judging from the picture above, it looks like Greg Gillis did too, as he's clearly modeled his look after Christian Smith. Nice.)

Sure, Girl Talk is the mash-up concept stretched to its ultimate end, and its also the epitome of the ADD generation's preferred approach toward consumption of music and just about everything else, but the success of Feed the Animals, just like its predecessor, depends entirely on how many startling moments of extremely satisfying recognition it can cram into itself. This is why I think the release of a new Girl Talk album excites me more than that of any other artist. Girl Talk is not my favorite musician currently releasing new music, but hearing a new album of his for the first time is a thrilling discovery session. Frankly, I wish there were a new one every week.

The moments-centric nature of Girl Talk's music is why this "review" is in list form. But I wasn't exactly sure how these moments should be classified. They definitely aren't my ten favorite moments, or what I rate as the ten best moments. They're basically ten moments that, to me, explain what Feed the Animals is all about. But that's a crappy headline. (So look what I came up with.)

Note: All the time numbers are based on the album in one-track form. So now you know I was charitable enough to give him at least five dollars. (It was actually $10,000.)

10. Ray J "Sexy Can I" vs. Rod Stewart "Young Turks" vs. Ahmad "Back in the Day" (6:53)

This sequence is textbook Girl Talk -- a huge radio hit circa the release date of the album, a basically forgotten piece of cheesy pop, and a bareknuckled rap song. And they all fit together seamlessly. I'd never heard either "Young Turks" or "Back in the Day" before this album came out, but now I have a sudden appreciation for both, and it's almost weird to think that they weren't made for each other. Looking good, Rod. Looking good.

9. Rick Springfield "Jesse's Girl" vs. Three 6 Mafia "I'd Rather" (46:06)

One of the best things about Girl Talk is that he's not afraid to point out when rap music becomes so crass that it ceases to be an intimidating (okay, misogynistic) display of machismo and becomes downright comical. That doesn't sound like anything special, but most guys in his position would be apprehensive about seeming even the slightest bit racialist. Girl Talk manages to highlight these moments without seeming like he's mocking his subjects (and he's not). Maybe using snippets of songs like "I'd Rather" work because of the fact that they're juxtaposed against songs like "Jesse's Girl." Either way, I'm glad Girl Talk can pull it off, because this is the funniest part of the album by far.

8. Jay-Z "Roc Boys (And the Winner Is) . . ." vs. Radiohead "Paranoid Android" (16:23)

Like Night Ripper, Feed the Animals has a few moments that are instantly memorable, good or bad -- moments that are, as far as mash-ups go, ambitious. I haven't quite figured out whether I feel that Jay-Z vs. Radiohead is a hit or a miss, but right now I think it's a miss, then a hit, then a miss. It doesn't start off well, where the verse breaks in and is accompanied by the timeless opening notes of "Paranoid Android." This part just seems a little forced, the "Hey!"s in particular. But then when the Radiohead part shifts to the ominous bassline, it fits naturally with Jay's words, giving them a darker sound than they do in their original form. Then things return to being disjointed when the piercing guitar sequence from "Android" comes in to match up with the "Roc Boys" chorus. I applaud the effort, but overall these songs don't quite mesh. I don't know if "Paranoid Android" could be successfully mashed up with anything.

7. Deee-Lite "Groove Is in the Heart" vs. Nirvana "Lithium" vs. Salt-N-Pepa "Push It" (35:51)

Not only to these three songs fit together well musically, but they share historical links as well, which is what puts this sequence over the top for me. It's not like these songs were all released in the same week or anything, far from it, but they are all emblematic of the musical transition from the eighties to the nineties. "Push It" is a quintessential example of hip hop in one of its nascent stages, before becoming a major commercial and cultural force globally. Nirvana represents rock 'n' roll's last gasp as a genre in terms of pushing the creative envelope across the most mainstream media. And "Groove Is in the Heart" would be one of the first things you'd put in a 1990 time capsule. I don't know if Gillis thought of all this when he laid these three tracks on top of each other, but I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

6. Rich Boy "Throw Some D's" vs. Aphex Twin "Girl/Boy Song" (5:55)

Girl Talk's music is, most fundamentally, a forty- to fifty-minute series of recontextualizations. Occasionally, he runs into songs that just don't need to be recontextualized. When I first heard of Girl Talk, it was because a friend told me about this kid he knew who made a mash-up of "1979" and "Stay Fly." In all seriousness, those are two of my favorite ten songs ever. Somehow, I was stupid enough to get my hopes up, and was predictably disappointed when I actually heard the two songs laid over top of each other. Feed the Animals only reinforces the long-held notion that there's no need to ever divorce Rich Boy's "Throw Some D's" verses from Polow da Don's original, crushing beat. (Last I checked, that was one of the sacred tenets upon which America was founded.) Similarly, "Girl/Boy Song" doesn't need any lyrics to accompany it; they only interfere with its twist and turns. And don't even get me started on "C.R.E.A.M." vs. "Hold Your Head Up."

5. Ace of Base "All That She Wants" vs. Swizz Beatz "My Drink n My 2 Step" (10:33)

Now this is how you shoot for the nostalgic moon. I think it's safe to say that we all could use a little more Ace of Base in our lives, so the appeal of "All That She Wants" needs absolutely no explanation. As for Swizz, he's all over Feed the Animals, and for good reason. Like Girl Talk, Swizz likes to throw a million things at a wall and see what sticks, which makes him perfect for this format. Sometimes his songs can't even contain themselves for a full thirty seconds, but when his best bits and pieces are singled out, few artists are as infectious. This sequence gets stuck in my head all the time now, and that's definitely a good thing. (Note: the Swizz Beatz of Night Ripper was Juelz Santana, which is the main reason I like it better. A!)

4. Tag Team "Whoomp! (There It Is)" vs. Big Country "In a Big Country" vs. Kraftwerk "Nummern" (30:30)

This is Feed the Animals' equivalent to the mash-up of "Laffy Taffy" and that track Gillis made himself on Night Ripper. Talk about a recontextualization. The original version of "In a Big Country," while appealing on its own merits (I had never heard it before this), doesn't pack nearly the punch it does when paired with "Whoomp! (There It Is)." Maybe I'm Captain Obvious for stating that. This is another one of those ambitious moments I referenced earlier. Anytime you sample Tag Team, you're begging for people to scrutinize you. Well this one works flawlessly. (Bonus points for the segue into "Planet Rock," history's most famous Kraftwerk sample, immediately following this sequence.)

3. Metallica "One" vs. Lil Mama "Lip Gloss" (25:23)

In my estimation (and terminology, and logic) this is easily Feed the Animals' most ambitious moment. I can't picture anyone not having an opinion about this combo. You've got Metallica, all-time legends who are about to become the centerpiece of the greatest video game ever, Guitar Hero: Metallica. Then there's Lil Mama, who, unlike that Usher wannabe Chris Brown, is one of the few 21st century musical artists who possesses the charisma of a real star. On the surface, these two songs have no business occupying the same space, which I'm sure is exactly what Gillis was thinking when he put them together. I like both of these songs, and I think the mash-up fits, so I think Metallica vs. Lil Mama is an overwhelming success, but if you told me you hated it, I could definitely understand why.

2. Birdman and Lil Wayne "Stuntin' Like My Daddy" vs. Sinead O'Connor "Nothing Compares 2 U" vs. Shawna "Gettin' Some" (3:40)

This sequence encapsulates everything that's good about Girl Talk. First off, it's heartening to know that he realizes "Stuntin' Like My Daddy" is one of the best songs of the decade. Second, playing Wayne's verse from it over "Nothing Compares 2 U" represents one of the most striking recontextualizations of the album. Maybe it's my fault for not paying enough attention, but I never realized that Wayne's first verse from that song is pretty sad. (The only line I really remember from "Stuntin'" -- and for good reason -- is, "You know we shine every summer / We grind every summer / And this is how we spend money." Amen.) In the original version, the line, "Pick 'em up, fuck e'm, let 'em lay / Where I'm from we see a fuckin' dead body every day" gets buried by the horns and bass, but in this context, it jumped right out at me. Then, just when I started feeling surprisingly glum, in came the chorus of "Gettin' Some," and I busted out laughing.

1. Wiz Khalifa "Say Yeah" vs. Usher "Love in This Club" vs. The Cure "In Between Days" (47:50)

Even though this isn't a list of my favorite moments from Feed the Animals, well, here it is. This sequence is a perfect combination of my personal tastes and skillful matching on Gillis's part. "Say Yeah" never became as popular as it should have (which is to say, it's not as popular as "Stairway to Heaven"), but regardless, it's the apotheosis of the hip-hop-with-house-beats trend. Plus, it's one of the two moments in the album where Gillis makes a blatant Pittsburgh reference. (The other comes when he uses "Renegade" by Styx. Next time I'm hoping for the Penguins theme song.) Of course, Usher, much like he did for crunk with "Yeah," brought this trend to its commercial peak with "Love in This Club," which is also terrific. Frankly, I think placing the two songs together is a brilliant move, and to follow it up with "In Between Days" -- a song I will love until I die -- is icing on the cake.

THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES
(Sinead O'Connor)

It seems like years since you held the baby
While I wrecked the bedroom
You said it was dangerous after Sunday
And I knew you loved me
He thinks I just became famous
And that's what messed me up
But he's wrong
How could I possibly know what I want
When I was only twenty-one?

Mural for Dublin city centre hostel, formerly a recording studio
It features some of the well known Irish musicians who produced work there
(12ft wide x 8 ft high)

I was driving home from NewTunes last night and my iPod served up "Kingdom of Rain" - a song from The The featuring Sinead O'Connor.

This is not only one of my favorite songs from The The, but one of my all time favorites, in general. And it got me thinking about Sinead O'Connor.

I've never been a huge fan. I enjoyed the first album, but nothing she did after really resonated with me. However, she somehow has been involved in some of my favorite songs from other artists who's music I've always enjoyed.

Check out her work with The Edge on "Heroine," a song from his soundtrack album for a film called "Captive." (no video for this, but someone did put it to YouTube)

Thanks to Julia Turner, who turned me onto this album - and specifically, this song - while at college. The rest of this album is very moody and ambient and not really like this song. But this song made it on most of my college mix tapes and still stands as one of my favorite.

It is the feeling one gets from discovering a little known song like this that attracts me every day to the potential of NewTunes. It is my hope that people have experiences like finding a song like this every day on our site.

But, back to Sinead O'Connor. One of Peter Gabriel's more moving songs - Blood of Eden - featured none other than our own Sinead O'Connor.

O'Connor's first album, The Lion and the Cobra, was released in 1987. While working on that, she also provided backing vocals for Karl Wallinger's band, World Party. Not only did she sing on the song "Private Revolution," but she also appeared in the video.

As I said, I've never been enough of a fan to purchase any of her music past Lion and the Cobra, but I'm fascinated by how entranced I am every time she performs with someone else. I don't want to fill this post with videos, but here's a short list of others with whom she's been involved...

• Enya
• Jah Wobble
• Anthony Kiedis (Red Hot Chili Peppers (but that was dating))
• Dave Stewart (Eurythmics)
• Wyclef Jean
• Moby
• Prince
• Bono
• Roger Daltrey
• Elton John
• Roger Waters
• MC Lyte
• Transvision Vamp
• Kris Kristofferson
• Bob Dylan
• ...and I'm sure I'm missing even more

But I wonder if she knows Kevin Bacon.

peter gabriel's big blue ball (snicker) project has been in the works for some 15 years now. the long-awaited album is a collaborative effort between dozens of musicians working to create an amalgamation of sounds from all over the world, with gabriel contributing to four of the eleven songs featured. those tracks make this album sound more like a lost album of his than a collaborative work, which isn't helped by gabriel's trademark slick production styles (and perhaps this reflects more of my own biases toward how i think world music should sound) that tend to remove much of the music from any sort of context. simultaneously, the production helps make things more cohesive, and the album sounds really good given that one of the major setbacks of this project was the fact that many of the tapes were in a kind of "mess." given the 15 year gestation period for this album, it sounds surprisingly modern, and although not all the songs are winners, the juxtapositions of styles and cultures proves to be interesting and rewarding.

Reading this post by Chris over at A Free Man the other day reminded me of how much I adore this track by Sinead O'Connor. While I totally appreciate the bold and direct dig at the running of England during the time of Margaret Thatcher (Sinead has never been one to sit quietly in the corner), I love it especially for this line

England's not the mythical land of Madame George and roses

and for this verse

Young mother down at Smithfield
5 am, looking for food for her kids
In her arms she holds three cold babies
And the first word that they learned was "please"

The image that I get in my head of those 'three cold babies' is chilling, and the child-like high pitch that she uses for that one word, “please”, is heartwrenching.

This is a track that always makes me tear up. It's not only because it's sad. Well, it's mainly because it's sad, but it's also because Sinead O'Connor has the wonderful ability to convey anger and sorrow in a few short, concise and biting poetic lines. I know I could never do that. And so I weep.

Ahh...the anguish!

Music certainly isn't the only thing evolving these days. I feel so fortunate to live in a progressive environment like the bay area, where conventions are challenged, change is embraced, and activism is the norm. Gay, straight, bisexual, white, black, brown, yellow, tall, short, fat, thin...we are all just people after all.

One of the pillars of anthropology that has stuck with me since college is the notion of "becoming familiar with the unfamiliar and becoming unfamiliar with the familiar." In other words, before you go judging what you don't understand because you think it's different or strange, try to understand it. And conversely, it's immensely insightful to view the things you are comfortable with from an outside perspective and realize that what you consider normal might seem quite abnormal to another person.

The traits we share are what make us human. But the traits we don't share are what make us unique. And interesting! So, let's celebrate our differences, shall we?

I think most people would acknowledge that there are a lot of gay* musicians out there. I could only think of the most obvious ones off the top of my head, so I did a little digging around and compiled this list:

*I'm including artists who are either gay OR bisexual to the best of my knowledge in this list, but please feel free to correct me if you find anything inaccurate!

Ani DiFranco

Boy George

Erasure's Andy Bell

Dusty Springfield

Elton John

Eva Dahlgren

Freddie Mercury

George Michael

Indigo Girls

Janis Joplin

K.D. Lang

Lance Bass

Le Tigre's JD Samson

Melissa Etheridge

Melissa Ferrick

Rufus Wainwright

Sinead O'Connor

half of Sleater-Kinney

Tegan and Sara

Tracy Chapman

most of the Village People

And there you have it! Although the road ahead is clearly a bumpy one for same sex marriage, the recent events are groundbreaking and life-changing and I, for one, am very proud of California for being in the forefront of the movement. Whether you agree or disagree with what is going on in gay rights right now, I think most of us can agree that music as we know it would not be the same without the artists mentioned above.

And thus, I salute them.

nun denn, ich mach dann mal weiter! die promis rufen!

ach so, das bild hab ich auf stern.de gefunden

Sinéad O’Connor aparece descalza, con su calva mitológica y una camisa ancha, de camuflaje, que le da un aire de turista en Hawaii. El público aplaude enfebrecido su aparición, se oye incluso algún silbido. Comienza a cantar sin mediar palabra, rasgando una guitarra.

Dentro de Sinéad hay una mujer de mediana edad que por fin ha salido al exterior después de estar encerrada en el cuerpo de una belleza. Quién olvida esos ojos verdes escrutándonos desde hace casi 20 años en “Nothing compares to U”. Teníamos 15 y soñábamos con ser guapos y rebeldes como ella: cuando no te puedes borrar la cara, te rapas la cabeza; cuando no te puedes borrar el acné, te escondes bajo un halo de desprecio hacia la sociedad. Ella era nuestro ídolo porque lo tenía todo y rompía fotos de papas en programas nocturnos estadounidenses.

Esta noche, Sinéad parece una pantera encerrada detrás de 4 barrotes. Ruge con voz suave desde el escenario y los asistentes aplauden 15 segundos después de cada canción, tirándole rosas como quien lanza comida dentro de una jaula. Agradece la ovación con pudor y apenas entabla contacto. Canta sobre ángeles y seguro que confía en que vendrán a salvarla de las fauces de este público hambriento de emoción.

Ella se aparece como una virgen milagrosa ante nuestros ojos y se manifiesta para recordarnos que nosotros también hemos engordado y que ella cobra por hora como tú y como yo. Dios, apiádate de nosotros ahora que nuestras carnes ya no son firmes y que dormimos en hoteles con estrellas como galones en honor a nuestra burguesía.

Llega el momento culminante de la noche, el que pensamos que nunca llegaría y que nos dejará un regusto entre el alivio y la decepción: va a cantar el himno generacional. El público aúlla al oír los primeros acordes, el teatro se viene abajo. Durante la canción, se le escaparán risotadas con las que se defenderá de nuestros rostros extasiados, agradecidos. Pide disculpas por haberse reído rompiendo la solemnidad de nuestro recuerdo. Es su última rebeldía antes de morir de éxito en el circo romano.

En una canción épica, Sinéad O’Connor profetizó: “She likes to listen to rock and roll / She moves with the music / `Cause it never gets old / It's the only thing / That never gets old”. Y sorbemos este cóctel agridulce que sabe a una vida anterior, mientras vemos como la brisa de Hawaii mece palmeras invisibles alrededor de la cantante.

Composizione grafica di Mario DG

Ci sono posti in cui la musica sembra trovare più agio, per limitarsi a noi penso alla nostra Emilia e Romagna, penso a Napoli, penso a Genova, mi fermo di pensare; posti di frontiera o di incontri. Posti per i quali sarebbe facile spendere l'aggettivo "mitico".
Per quanto ci riguarda, in queste povere e laconiche righe, l'Irlanda è un paese insolitamente ricco di grandi talenti e splendidi esempi sia di cantanti che di autori. Tra i tanti ricordiamo in musica, in ordine sparso, i nomi degli U2, dei Dubliners, di Sinéad O'Connor, Enya, Pogues, Chieftains, etc. Di alcuni di questi nomi avremo agio in seguito di parlare. Perché il cuore nero d'Europa si trovi e pulsi tra le strade di Dublino o di Belfast è solo nella realtà delle cose.
Uno dei complessi della prima ora, che invasero i mercati europei nei primi anni ‘60, gli Them, era composto proprio da maledetti irlandesi ed è tra loro che inizia, tra successi come Gloria, Mystic eyes e Brown-eyed girl, la carriera di un cantante di Belfast (anche alla chitarra, armonica, tastiere e sassofono): Van Morrison (all'anagrafe George Ivan Morrison). Strano esempio di cantante per l'epoca, colto e introverso; la sua canzone sembra partire dal Dylan più astratto e intimista (e perché no dal primissimo Donovan) e Tim Buckley, dal progressive e dalla musica popolare celtica (a cui presterà la sua notevole voce) per avvicinarsi al soul.
Si dice che Morrison inventa una nuova figura di singer-songwriter, che usa le componenti fondamentali del folk, del country, del jazz e del rhythm and blues per comporre canzoni profondamente personali e financo filosofiche; composizioni forbite e complesse che assomigliano più a "suite" classiche che a canzoni pop. E' del 1968 il suo album Astral Weeks da cui abbiamo tratto Madame George (della quale abbiamo dato una traduzione che cerca di rispettare il più possibile lo spirito del testo originale).
Mi piace approfittare per ricordare quel simpatico film di Alan Parker del 1991 che risponde al titolo di The commitments che in qualche modo aiuta a capire come la musica sia vita in Irlanda. Mi piacerebbe consigliare, per i giovani e meno giovani che non l'avessero ancora letto, un gustoso romanzo di Gianfranco Bettin riedito per Baldini e Castaldi nel 2003 dal titolo Qualcosa che brucia. Non è un libro di musica o sulla musica, è un romanzo che si legge volentieri e in relativamente poco tempo. E' semplicemente una storia dove, come cerco di dire, la musica è parte integrante delle cose. E' nell'aria.
Qui ci vuole uno scotch. Una sigaretta accesa aggrappata alle labbra. Un filo di malinconia. Quel ronzio nella testa. Per la Guinness e le risate per una serata allegra ci diamo appuntamento più avanti.

Ringraziamo per la traduzione: Alessandro Maldera

La cantant irlandesa Sinéad O'Connor actuarà aquest dimecres per primera vegada a Barcelona, dins del Festival Únicas, en què serà el seu únic xou a Espanya dins d'aquesta gira. Segons ha comentat avui l'artista, a l'escenari del Palau de la Música Catalana estarà acompanyada únicament per dues guitarres acústiques i interpretarà el seu últim disc, 'Theology'.

"Ho he volgut fer des de petita, seria deshonest dir que només té a veure amb l'11-S", s'ha referit O'Connor a 'Theology', un treball que arrenca de l'atemptat de l'11 de setembre per difondre que "el caràcter de Déu no és violent", tot i que hi hagi "dos bàndols que s'odien perquè creuen que els seus déus són oposats", ha afirmat la cantant.

"Si la gent utilitza la teologia per fer la guerra, també em semblava pertinent fer el contrari", ha conclòs, no sense afegir que no es penedeix de la imatge que va donar el 1992 quan va trencar la fotografia del papa Joan Pau II a la cadena de televisió NBC pels suposats casos d'abusos a nens a les escoles catòliques d'Irlanda.

"Estic massa cansada per entrar en el tema per enèsima vegada", ha respost a preguntes dels periodistes. Aquella actitud inconformista que ha marcat tota la seva carrera musical gairebé li va valer l'adéu als escenaris.

A la segona part del concert de demà, O'Connor recuperarà grans temes dels seus treballs, com 'Never get old' i, "potser", 'Rivers of Babylon', una cançó de Boney M que cantava en el cor de l'església i que gairebé la feia plorar, segons ha recordat avui.

La intèrpret de 'Nothing compares to you' ha assegurat que, a pesar del pas del temps, aquesta cançó li segueix encantant, i davant del comentari d'un periodista, que ha assegurat que Prince, el seu compositor, deu estar content amb els 'royalties' generats per la cançó, la cantant ha respost que a ella tampoc li ha anat malament Prince.

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Sinéad O'Connor
Theology •••½
Rubyworks

From the beginning of her career, Sinéad O'Connor's name has been synonymous with risks, the controversy surrounding her sometimes gaining as much, if not more, attention as her voice. But Theology - released 20 years after her multi million-selling debut The Lion & The Cobra - sees her taking a different kind of risk in the by now familiar arena of religion. Indeed, religion has long been an obsession of the O'Connor rumour mill, ever since that infamous moment when she tore up a photo of the Pope live on American TV. Since then she's become an ordained minister in an off-shoot of the Catholic church and, later, wholeheartedly embraced the Rastafari faith (culminating in the woeful reggae excursion Throw Down Your Arms). In 2005 she even went so far as to claim that her mission was to "rescue God from religion".

Theology, then, is O'Connor proclaiming her conflicted feelings for all to hear, should they still care. Theology, too, gives us reason to still care: O'Connor has tackled her subject matter very successfully, neither overly pious nor accusatory. And though it has its shortcomings - a cover of ‘I Don't Know How To Love Him' from 'Jesus Christ Superstar' is, unfortunately, as cheesy as it sounds - the album, for the most part, maturely and comprehensively addresses the idea of faith in a way that is easy to relate to. It is not only declaring that one has faith, but also questioning why one has faith, what that faith is, and in troubled times, how one can continue to have faith.

And that's not all. If an album with religion as its central theme were not risky enough, Theology is a double album. The first disc, recorded in Dublin, and the second, recorded in London, have almost identical tracklistings, the difference being in the songs' accompaniment. The first disc is essentially O'Connor alone with an acoustic guitar, while the second couches her in the studio with a full band. It keeps things interesting, and long-time fans will no doubt be delighted with the opportunity to find each and every little difference in the recordings. For the rest of us, the second disc may seem superfluous given how well O'Connor shines in the solo context. Download both versions of the brilliant ‘If You Had A Vineyard' and see what I mean.

Amanda Farah

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Ollabelle
Ollabelle
Rounder / Me & My

It's a crying shame that it's taken a full three years for Ollabelle's eponymous debut to get a domestic release. Rounder Records once again prove themselves to be Americana heroes, for if there's one thing Ollabelle has that this country has been missing, it's soul. Serious soul.

Formed at an East Village blues and gospel jam night, Ollabelle comprises five members (the female contingent being Fiona McBain and Amy Helm - daughter of The Band's Levon Helm) of diverse backgrounds but a singular passion for the music they create. Discovered by T-Bone Burnett, he wisely signed them to his own label. From the first a cappella notes, handclaps and washboard percussion of opening number ‘Before This Time' it's clear that Ollabelle are something special. Rootsy touches abound throughout the album, with Hammond, slide and dobro all making their presence felt among the acoustic guitars, rhythm section and dripping-honey harmonies.

For the most part, the tunes are drawn from the classic blues and gospel songbook with songs such as ‘Jesus On The Mainline', ‘Get Back Temptation' and ‘No More My Lawd', though a few self-penned inclusions are thrown in for good measure. All are delivered with a tone that strikes a perfect balance between the traditional and contemporary. Respect for the music remains paramount; this is truly soulful and heartfelt stuff, not some sort of gospel-lite R&B knock-off. Where the band attempt to stretch their legs and cut loose, a psychedelic flavour creeps into the tonal palette: ‘Elijah Rock' and a louche updating of the Son House classic, ‘John The Revelator' are simply perfect recordings in this respect.

Ollabelle is a truly stunning debut and should really be a centrepiece in the CD collection of any lover of blues, Americana, gospel or roots music. Here's hoping a UK release of the follow-up, Riverside Battle Songs, won't be too far behind.

Trevor Raggatt

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Lisa Ono
Soul & Bossa ••½
Deckdisc Brasil

Japanese culture is famously diverse - some blinkered commentators might say bizarre - and, on occasion, somewhat opaque to Western observers. How, for example, can a country that is home to some of the world's most ancient and beautiful art also be home to that perennial 'Tarrant On TV' favourite, the comically sadistic game show 'Endurance'? How can a nation with one of the world's most effective healthcare systems also dine on fugu, the puffer fish dish that, although exquisitely tasty, can apparently be 1200 times more toxic than cyanide? To this list, add one more question: how can a nation with such variety and colour as Japan be hooked on a singer as unexciting as Lisa Ono?

Perhaps that is putting it a little too strongly. Lest we forget, Ono, a Brazilian expat, is one of the most popular bossa/jazz artists in the world and almost certainly the most popular in Japan. Like Brian Eno, Kenny G et al, she has made her home in the card shop-friendly world of pleasant background music; the problem is that when listening to Ono one senses that, like an undiscovered seam of gold beneath a Californian hill, there are riches under the surface waiting to be exploited.

Soul & Bossa, Ono's latest collection of covered songs, might just shimmer with the odd fleck of gold. However, they are few and far between; there is nothing inherently awful about the album, but it is hard to pick highs and lows because it is crushingly average. ‘I Got You (I Feel Good)' is a decent enough example; Ono tames James Brown's classic into a pleasing enough bossa, but in the process strips it of its rawness and power. ‘I Feel Good' without Brown's exuberant barking and shrieking is rather like a tiger without its teeth and claws; pretty enough, but lacking excitement and just...well...nice. ‘Georgia On My Mind' is similar in style and in effect; previously performed by Ray Charles (epic, emotional, intense) and Ella Fitzgerald (sultry, languid, warming), Ono's version (nice, nice, nice) might just leave the listener wanting to choke a jazz flautist.

There is, however, gold in them thar hills. Ono's sensitive performance of ‘Nada Mais Lately' is powerfully redolent of Charlotte Gainsbourg's throaty, sultry style, and thoroughly outshines the bland quality of much of Ono's work. Another Portuguese piece, ‘Eu Você', sounds bright and sophisticated and sizzles with Latin intensity. Elsewhere, ‘You've Got A Friend' is a clever piece of work, mixing a refrain from Delibes's ‘Flower Duet' with a low-down, pleasing bossa that, thankfully, is a long way from the AA's saccharine-sweet use of the song in its most recognisable format.

Listening to Soul & Bossa isn't as painful as 'Endurance'; nor is it as exciting as fugu. It's a perfectly nice, perfectly average, perfectly innocent album that will suit anyone who wants to put on the headphones and relax for an hour. It is, perhaps, the "nice cup of tea" of current jazz.

Andy Wasley

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Yoko Ono
Yes, I'm A Witch ••••
EMI

As the Beatles-Lennon furore recedes into the mists of pop culture past, the much-maligned Yoko Ono has emerged from the scrum to be recognised as an important avant-garde artist "in her own right" (to coin a condescending phrase). The re-evaluation of her challenging music continues with this engaging album, a collection of remixes by some painfully hip contemporary musicians (among them Peaches, Le Tigre, Antony, Spiritualized's Jason Pierce, The Flaming Lips, the Polyphonic Spree and The Apples in Stereo) that pays homage to her influence and clearly aims to introduce her work to a new generation. (A similar compilation of dance mixes of her songs is also available.) The choice of material on Yes, I'm A Witch spans Ono's career from her early experimental work with Lennon to her solo albums of the 1970s and ‘80s, with the artists retaining Ono's original vocals and creating new backing tracks for them. The result is a predictably uneven but nonetheless highly enjoyable album that makes a compelling case for the accomplishments of a composer who was clearly way ahead of her time.

Following Public Enemy producer Hank Shocklee's brisk �