The rise of Sheffield band Arctic Monkeys from MySpace ingnues to younger statesmen of sturdy rock music has been one of the least surprising pop-cultural events of the past five years. Factor in terrific riff-laden music, likely lads’ larks and provincial British kitchen-sink concerns as seen through the wry mind and intellect of lyricist and singer Alex Turner, and it’s no wonder they’re so successful. The Arctic Monkeys epitomise a smart-mindedness, verbal dexterity and musical alacrity that the likes of oik rock acts Oasis and Kasabian can only dream of.
So, three years on from the Arctic Monkeys debut album, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not (a reference to a Britain of a different era, courtesy of the 1960s film, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning), they remain an important band. The edges of their early days have been smoothed out but not worn down, helped to a large degree by a collective mindset that sees little problem in deviating from the norm. Certainly, the noise at the O2 was a ferocious reminder of a band that is nowhere near the end of their second chapter. Now able to spread out three albums’ worth of songs across 90 minutes, where once their sets consisted of the first album and a few songs played twice, now the pacing of the show is less frenetic and, inevitably, far more assured and persuasive.
There is little in the way of bravado. Expense has been spared in the areas of lighting, backdrops and production values, making this show one of the least visually bombastic the O2 has staged since it opened. Similarly, frontman Alex Turner is as charismatic as a sandbag, while the other band members effortlessly retain their anonymity.
No matter - what the gig lacks in bright lights, grandstanding and bluster, it makes up for with rock music that ranges from the potent (I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor, Brianstorm, This House is a Circus, Crying Lightning) to the downright subtle (Cornerstone) and witty (My Propeller). Best British band of the past five years? By a mile.
London-born Florence Welsh is the fiery-haired, charismatically-voiced songstress behind Florence And The Machine, a band much lauded by such giants as BBC Introducing and The Guardian even before the release of debut album, ‘Lungs.’ After so much build up it is interesting to see whether the album can live up to the hype, and on first listen it certainly seems to; indeed, ‘Lungs’ has even landed Welsh with a much-coveted Mercury Music Prize nomination.
On second listen, the hype seems even further justified. Florence’s strong, soulful voice interweaves throughout the type of artsy, gothic-tinged folk pop recently championed by Natasha Khan of Bat for Lashes, and indeed the aesthetic has a similar, theatrically whimsical and glitzy feel, as though Kate Bush has just run head-first through a forest and then plunged onwards through a cloud of glitter. The songs of Florence And The Machine, though, are punchier and not quite as ethereal and downbeat as Bat for Lashes’ offerings; indeed, first single ‘Kiss with a Fist’ has a bluesy, gritty feel, its upbeat tone belying the lyrical content as the vocals take on a harsher, PJ-Harvey-esque sound and she screams about an abusive relationship (”You hit me once/I hit you back/You gave a kick/I gave a slap/You smashed a plate over my head/Then I set fire to our bed.”)
Highlights of the album are the glorious ‘Howl,’ where aching vocals entwine with soaring strings as the lyrics echo the vocal delivery (”Like some child possessed/the beast howls in my breast”) as Florence’s forlorn wails remind us of the pain and desire of love, and the insistent ‘Drumming’ which crashes and pounds its way into an elated crescendo (”It fills my head up and gets louder and louder.”) No tracks, though, could be described as ‘filler,’ and if some of the more downbeat tracks such as the crooning ‘I’m Not Calling You a Liar’ and the creepy ‘Girl With One Eye’ seem perhaps a little flatter and less involving than other tracks, it is a minor quibble. The album ends on a slightly unusual note with an adept cover of The Source’s classic dance-track ‘You Got the Love,’ for me, it is more a satisfactory climax to the album than a blinding one, but doesn’t detract from the beauty of what has come before.
Patterns. That’s an interesting word and one that applies well to music. There are patterns everywhere in music. Repeating patterns, note patterns, chord patterns etc.
For New Age piano playing, a pattern that comes up frequently is a crossover technique for the left hand. The left plays a repeating pattern that uses more than an octave of the keyboard while the right plays melody notes, chords, etc.
For example, in the lesson “Ocean Pacific,” we have 4 chords to play with and the technique with which to play them - a repeating crossover pattern.
Now, what’s so great about this is that you have an aural background over which you may freely improvise your melodies. In essence, what is created is a repeating loop. This loop can also be looked at as a section of music. When you start thinking in sections, you’ll be doing what composers do.
This pattern for the left hand is used frequently in New Age piano playing because you can create sections of music very quickly and easily. And it’s attractive because it gives you the New Age sound quickly too!
How many patterns are there? An infinite amount. In fact, there are so many that it may be impossible to create them all. That’s why music is so limitless. Experiment with your own patterns and you’ll see how easy creating in the New Age style can be!
Edward Weiss is a pianist/composer and webmaster of Quiescence Music’s online piano lessons. He has been helping students learn how to play piano in the New Age style for over 14 years and works with students in private, in groups, and now over the internet. Stop by now at http://www.quiescencemusic.com/piano_lessons.html for a FREE piano lesson!
