First, let's be honest -- if you were an old music fan (or a fan of old music), 2016 sucked. It was a reminder that while the art will live forever, the artist will leave your side sooner than you think, like the all loved ones in your life. Whether it's Leonard Cohen or Leon Russell, two-thirds of Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, or some of the most transformative artists in music history -- David Bowie and Prince -- the sorrow runs deep and true, the bittersweet magic captured in each tune and every note. But I want to take a moment to talk about George Michael, perhaps the most tragic loss of the lot.
If you weren't around for the first couple waves of George Michael fandom, it's easy to see him as an also-ran, that guy who made that one Christmas song with the synths. But it's not an exaggeration to say that he was on track to be an Elton John of the MTV generation, but an Elton that could write and perform and produce his own work, a true auteur of pop and R&B. His short time in Wham! alone should be enough for canonization, a half-decade of street soul, ersatz Motown (Fauxtown?), and epic balladry. But then he had the one-two punch of Faith and Listen Without Prejudice, and once again, for those records alone, George Michael should be remembered forever. And it all seemed so easy.
But after a protracted fight with his record label and a series of personal tragedies -- the deaths of his lover and his mother -- he only completed two new albums in the last twenty-five years of his life. That magic spark of creation, that sense of evanescent joy that radiated from his smiling face and his percolating melodies, dimmed and became more sporadic. And even though there would be occasional glimmers -- his vignette with James Corden for the British "Comic Relief," the odd singles like "An Easier Affair" and "White Light" -- George Michael was never George Michael again. The loss was there before the actual loss took place, but at least there was a hope that the curtain might lift instead of closing forever. And while it's true that the music will always be there, it's a shame that the creator isn't around to reap the love.
Speaking of love, here are some albums that I enjoyed in the past year. (And yes, I still buy physical media, as streaming and downloading won't pay the bills of the artist.)
David Bowie - Blackstar
Instead of focusing on the tragic -- releasing one of the better albums of his career just days before the shock of his passing -- I prefer to celebrate the pleasure of watching an artist in the twilight of his career still pushing the boundaries of his art, still surprising and engaging the listener after all these years and all those ch-ch-ch-changes. As a lifelong Bowie fan, it's natural to want more from the man, but what he left the listener at the coda of his career -- the scattering rhythmic explorations of loss and mortality and love -- was more than one could rightly expect and deserve. Eternal thanks.
Iggy Pop - Post Pop Depression
Before he was Iggy Pop -- the one artist at ground zero of the look and sound of what we now call punk -- he was James Osterberg, a trailer park kid from southern Michigan who wanted to make a noise that would shake the foundations. But what to do when there's more yesterdays than tomorrows, when your friends and co-conspirators -- Bowie, Lou Reed, the other members of the Stooges -- start to vanish? What does life after "Iggy Pop" look like, and is there one more salvo left in the Iggy Pop cannon and canon? Thankfully, with the help of Josh Homme from Queens Of The Stone Age, the answer was a resounding "fuck yes." And thankfully, with a successful tour, a wonderful album, and a recent documentary on the Stooges under his belt, Iggy Pop is reaping the rewards of a lifetime of sacrifices to the altar of rock and roll. Long may he reign.
Suede - Night Thoughts
Starting off at the beginnings of what became Britpop in the early '90s with a Bowie-esque stance of fey androgyny and slashing guitar riffs, Suede caught the imagination of U.K. youth like few bands ever did. Sadly, after defections and drugs and artistic decline, Suede sputtered to a stop before the end of the century, like countless lesser bands before them. But unexpectedly, Suede discovered a third life in the new millennium that was as musically rich and vibrant as their heyday. Their second record after their most recent rebirth is an honest-to-gosh album -- a start-to-finish thematic work -- unlike anything else they've attempted. Such a statement isn't exactly what most artists are aiming for in the 21st Century, but against the odds, Suede created an immersive experience that beguiles and transports with each play. And in the standout epic track "Outsiders," Suede made a single for this or any age, speaking to the outsiders in all of us.
Some honorable mentions:
Wild Beasts - Boy King / Field Music - Commontime / Kate Jackson - British Road Movies / Yumi Zouma - Yuncalla / Cass McCombs - Mangy Love / Danny Brown - Atrocity Exhibition / Gord Downie - Secret Path / Mitski - Puberty 2 / Peter Bjorn & John - Breaking Point / Radiohead - A Moon Shaped Pool / The Avalanches - Wildflower / Michael Kiwanuka - Love & Hate
If you weren't around for the first couple waves of George Michael fandom, it's easy to see him as an also-ran, that guy who made that one Christmas song with the synths. But it's not an exaggeration to say that he was on track to be an Elton John of the MTV generation, but an Elton that could write and perform and produce his own work, a true auteur of pop and R&B. His short time in Wham! alone should be enough for canonization, a half-decade of street soul, ersatz Motown (Fauxtown?), and epic balladry. But then he had the one-two punch of Faith and Listen Without Prejudice, and once again, for those records alone, George Michael should be remembered forever. And it all seemed so easy.
But after a protracted fight with his record label and a series of personal tragedies -- the deaths of his lover and his mother -- he only completed two new albums in the last twenty-five years of his life. That magic spark of creation, that sense of evanescent joy that radiated from his smiling face and his percolating melodies, dimmed and became more sporadic. And even though there would be occasional glimmers -- his vignette with James Corden for the British "Comic Relief," the odd singles like "An Easier Affair" and "White Light" -- George Michael was never George Michael again. The loss was there before the actual loss took place, but at least there was a hope that the curtain might lift instead of closing forever. And while it's true that the music will always be there, it's a shame that the creator isn't around to reap the love.
Speaking of love, here are some albums that I enjoyed in the past year. (And yes, I still buy physical media, as streaming and downloading won't pay the bills of the artist.)
David Bowie - Blackstar
Instead of focusing on the tragic -- releasing one of the better albums of his career just days before the shock of his passing -- I prefer to celebrate the pleasure of watching an artist in the twilight of his career still pushing the boundaries of his art, still surprising and engaging the listener after all these years and all those ch-ch-ch-changes. As a lifelong Bowie fan, it's natural to want more from the man, but what he left the listener at the coda of his career -- the scattering rhythmic explorations of loss and mortality and love -- was more than one could rightly expect and deserve. Eternal thanks.
Iggy Pop - Post Pop Depression
Before he was Iggy Pop -- the one artist at ground zero of the look and sound of what we now call punk -- he was James Osterberg, a trailer park kid from southern Michigan who wanted to make a noise that would shake the foundations. But what to do when there's more yesterdays than tomorrows, when your friends and co-conspirators -- Bowie, Lou Reed, the other members of the Stooges -- start to vanish? What does life after "Iggy Pop" look like, and is there one more salvo left in the Iggy Pop cannon and canon? Thankfully, with the help of Josh Homme from Queens Of The Stone Age, the answer was a resounding "fuck yes." And thankfully, with a successful tour, a wonderful album, and a recent documentary on the Stooges under his belt, Iggy Pop is reaping the rewards of a lifetime of sacrifices to the altar of rock and roll. Long may he reign.
Suede - Night Thoughts
Starting off at the beginnings of what became Britpop in the early '90s with a Bowie-esque stance of fey androgyny and slashing guitar riffs, Suede caught the imagination of U.K. youth like few bands ever did. Sadly, after defections and drugs and artistic decline, Suede sputtered to a stop before the end of the century, like countless lesser bands before them. But unexpectedly, Suede discovered a third life in the new millennium that was as musically rich and vibrant as their heyday. Their second record after their most recent rebirth is an honest-to-gosh album -- a start-to-finish thematic work -- unlike anything else they've attempted. Such a statement isn't exactly what most artists are aiming for in the 21st Century, but against the odds, Suede created an immersive experience that beguiles and transports with each play. And in the standout epic track "Outsiders," Suede made a single for this or any age, speaking to the outsiders in all of us.
Some honorable mentions:
Wild Beasts - Boy King / Field Music - Commontime / Kate Jackson - British Road Movies / Yumi Zouma - Yuncalla / Cass McCombs - Mangy Love / Danny Brown - Atrocity Exhibition / Gord Downie - Secret Path / Mitski - Puberty 2 / Peter Bjorn & John - Breaking Point / Radiohead - A Moon Shaped Pool / The Avalanches - Wildflower / Michael Kiwanuka - Love & Hate
Interesting list. I'll have to think about some of the choices..I will say tho' that one of my fave GM songs was his duet with 'Retha aka aretha...." I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)...
ReplyDeleteOh yeah. GM was a student of the pop song, and he knew that he could learn best from the masters like Jerry Wexler and Aretha and Elton and all the rest.
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