Category — Music

I’ve always wondered why Supercar called it quits just as their music was on the very cusp of greatness, but I think I get it now. Their sound is so deeply intertwined with their youthful introspection that simply by growing old, their reason to exist would erode away and lose meaning. I’m listening to them a lot at the moment and their song Warning Bell (Last Live version, video above) sounds like a band desperate to resist that inevitable destiny, if just for a few more minutes, and savour their last, bittersweet taste of a hopeless and happy youth.

• Track 01: Beginning of an epic adventure. Planets exploding and stars colliding.
• 03: Easy listening, I like the chorus, it’s nice.
• 04: Pumping, theatrical, energetic, awesome, voice is perfect for this kind of song, when artificial JPop sounds good, operatic pop fusion. A genuinely original, futuristic tune.
• 05: Reminds me of a classic adventure movie like Indiana Jones. Dog-fighthing air-craft wouldn’t be the same without these kind of refined, epic strings.
• 06: Triangler is alright, but the vocals are too… flawlessly cute and melodramatic.
• 08: Smooth. Rock. Melodic.
• 09: Piano; it’s lovely. A very tender, playful song, happy and melancholy.
• 10: Vividly remember this from the anime; a really beautiful song. Vocals are so sweet, and at times it’s almost accapella. Kanno at her best.
• 15: A lot of the recent songs have had a notably foreign, cultural aesthetic. This was Chinese.
• 16: Harp. Elegant theme for Alto.
• 17: More Indiana Jones; it’s very heroic, but this time has a giant monster feeling too. Totally apt for a space opera anime like Macross Frontier.
• 18: More epic space opera, thrilling Star Wars-esque stuff; Luke Skywalker about to blow up the Death Star vibe. Actually, it reminds me of those great Christopher Reeves Superman flicks too; has quiet moments of reflection before launching itself into the sun.
• 19: Lovecraft. Horrific, unforeseen, unfathomable.
• 20: Piano, thoughtful, emotionally provocative. Feels like a harsh decision has been made; living with the consequences of tragedy.
• 21: All encompassing, I get the feeling this is the genuiene theme of Macross Frontier. Same vocals as track 10, but the song is bigger this time, voice backed by orchestral sounds. Kind of like “Voices” from Macross Plus, but with a bit more studio sheen. I prefer the earlier version, if just because it’s rawer, more empathetic and fragile.
• 22: Fluffy white clouds, blue sky crawling.
• 24: Sparkling and theatrical but a little too emotionally artificial for my tastes, almost cheesy. Would be a fitting end for a soap opera.

I’ve lost a good chunk of this evening to skipping through Taku Iwasaki’s soundtrack for Gurren Lagann and reliving my favourite moments. This happens from time to time. I always go back to certain scenes, like the last few minutes of episode 26, the beginning and end of 27. The recap episode too; it’s probably the best recap episode I’ve ever seen. It’s something like this that really epitomises why Gurren Lagann was so good; that it worked all its originality and soul into a formulaic plot recap is more than notable. Looking back on those moments, it really feels like Gurren Lagann had something to say. It goes beyond mere entertainment and feels genuinely important; inspiring. Its themes are whole, cohesive and optimistic, as if everything in Simon’s world happens for a reason, culminating with his poetic epilogue. Watching anime, I suppose it’s kind of rare to finish a series feeling genuinely satisfied, there are so many rushed, poorly handled endings out there, but this was just right. At its end, mixed in with our happiness for the Gurren-dan’s success, is a slight taste of melancholy, or sadness, because our heroes are getting old, dying. I think it’s kind of horrifying to see Simon like that because it really brings home that nothing is forever, and no matter who you are or what you want to be, life goes on. It’s a beautifully human thing to feel, I guess, this happiness tempered by melancholy.

If I’m ever watching an anime series I’m destined to love, there is always that one moment, typically unexpected, of almost transcendental catharsis that pushes me over the edge. It’s what happens when a story goes from being just another mecha anime I might enjoy, like Gundam 00, to a story that’s suddenly exploding with life, ambition, emotion. If you hadn’t guessed already, I’m talking about Macross Frontier, episode the third.

Looking out over hazy-blue clouds, Alto throws his paper plane into the sky above. The flimsy wings falter against the wind, but it’s flying, gliding high and swooping low. It’s a metaphorical moment we can grasp because, after all, most of us dream of doing something important with our lives, but for all those grand intentions, we’re still just paper planes relying on the wind; weak, fragile, hanging by a thread of hope, waiting for that breeze to carry us away. Sometimes it’s best to take a risk and jump, to chase what you desire with every ounce of your being. Rise or fall, that’s a really inspiring sentiment, right? And that’s why I watch anime. Also, as my blogging is a transient sequence of ‘wrongs’ and ‘rights’, I was wrong, on this evidence, to slightly criticize Yoko Kanno’s musical efforts for Frontier because Ranka’s heart-felt accapella turn in this episode was, in a word, beautiful. High up on a hill, singing to yourself, it’s kind of like blogging, really.

Earlier this evening, after battling to a hard-fought 2-1 win over Burton Albion, mine beloved Cambridge United qualified for the Blue Square Premier play-off final, to be played in glorious surroundings at the new Wembley Stadium. Considering three years of strife in football purgatory and flirting with financial ruin, the hopes and dreams of the battered United faithful rested on 45 minutes of good old fashioned ’soccer’. Ironic then that with the match poised on a knife edge, sweet Lady Luck (so often our worst enemy) finally smiled on the team in amber. Enigmatic central midfielder Rob Wolleaston, whose obvious quality is often debated by blinkered fans, attempted an innocuous-looking pass into the Burton area; but rather than find an attacker’s bonce, his swerving ball floated over the stranded opposition’s keeper and nestled perfectly, beautifully in the bottom-left corner of the net. Dear Lady Luck, marry me.

What better way to celebrate then than to take in the dulcet tones of chatmonchy, another Japanese rock band recently discovered on my apparently never-ending journey into the Nipon soundscape. This particular 3-piece group captured my attention because, aside from sounding rather catchy, all their members are female, which, in itself, offers a unique dynamic. Like a lot of Eastern pop-punk, they are melodic and happy-go-lucky, more garage-band than artificially composed. Each song is guitar-driven and the vocals are high-pitched, attractive and natural. It would be fair to say that chatmonchy aren’t especially original, but regardless, their music is fast, happy and rocking.

Listening to Björk’s Vespertine album, I’m flooded with feeling. It’s not like memory, as that implies the memories are mine. The feelings (or maybe, emotions?) I’m writing about are inextricably linked to Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials. While reading the books, Northern Lights in particular, her fragile Vespertine was my soundtrack. Usually, I’m not one to listen to music whilst reading, yet the landscape of both is so full of icy wonder, I’m frozen in those feelings; like the snow-flake that reflects in your palm for those fleeting few seconds before melting away, it’s a wonder of the moment, a passionate affair, here today and gone tomorrow.