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Each year Austria’s music industry pats
itself on the back with the Amadeus Austrian Music Awards. And although there
hasn’t been all that much to celebrate in the past few years (a cynical me
would say decades), there is currently a new surge of energy, a new spirit, and
new talent, which truly gives cause for hope. Wanda, 5/8erl in Ehr’n, Conchita
Wurst or Parov Stelar, to name just a few, show how much diversity and what a
high standard Austrian music has to offer at the moment.
What I couldn’t understand, though, was how
Bilderbuch could be so completely overlooked by the Amadeus people (nothing
less than Band of the Year would have been appropriate as far as I’m concerned).
This is a band that plays to sold-out crowds throughout the German-speaking
area. A band that – together with Wanda – has triggered a state of euphoria in
the country and given Austrians something they can be proud of, or even – and
this is virtually unheard of – brag about. And Bilderbuch’s album “Schick Schock” is an
achievement in itself: an album that sounds thoroughly international (apart
from the language), is flawlessly produced down to the smallest detail, that
oozes humour and intelligence – one might even call it a pop masterpiece.
Much has been written and said about the
band’s image and attitude, especially that of lead singer Maurice Ernst. So cocksure,
so irresistibly arrogant, so sexy … but at the end of the day, we mustn’t
forget, in the midst of all that praise, that these four young men from Kremsmünster have also
made a brilliant album.
These
are my top 5 “Schick Schock” moments:
5th
place
There are so many memorable lyrics on the
album that I can only pick out one or two on behalf of the rest. “Du hast den
Schick Schock / Weil dich mein Schick schockt” (“You’re in chic shock / ‘Cause you’re
shocked by my chic”) is just one example of Maurice Ernst having fun with words
and sounds. The same goes for the line “Ein Rebell, Rebell, Rebell / Wie ein
Hund auf der Jagd” (Feinste Seide), where
the repetition of the word Rebell
simulates a dog barking (bellen).
Humour and intelligence – a magnetic combination.
4th
place
The unconventional (in pop at least) use of
mixed metres in Barry Manilow. The
guitar intro is normal enough, but when the vocals come in, the bars are put
together like this: 4/4 – 4/4 – 2/4 – 4/4 – 2/4. And inserting the title “Barry
Manilow” into the first of these 2/4 bars creates a kind of spaced out moment
in which we’re drawn out of reality, only to be plonked back in
two seconds later. I have no idea how Bilderbuch got the idea for it, but it
certainly proves that they have musical intelligence.
3rd
place
The song Schick Schock starts with Maurice Ernst trying to get a girl to
admit that she was checking out his ass. This is followed by the “plop” sound
made by the volume key on a Mac, as if there were someone going “Wait.
Did he really just say that??” Love it.
2nd
place
At just under 4.5 minutes, OM can certainly take its time building
up – and does so with relish. New elements are introduced at regular intervals,
such as the guitar riff at 1:25, and the swelling synth sound that adds density
at 1:58. But the wickedest moment is 3:06, when, after a break, a new riff takes
over and M.E. adlibs over it. Instructions for use: Must be heard at a sufficiently high volume!
1st
place
Maurice Ernst’s first “Yeah” in Maschin. Just says everything.
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Bilderbuch on YouTube:
PART 6 - AUSTRIA SERIES
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| Photo credit: Petra Benovsky |
For their
track “Dancer”, it seems to me that the Viennese band Gin Ga – made up of Alex
Konrad, Klemens Wihlidal, Emanuel
Donner and Matias Meno – took
their inspiration from the new wave of the early 80s. For those who are not
familiar with new wave or are simply too young to remember, new wave was a
style that emerged from punk in the late 70s/early 80s in England, but strived
to be more accessible than its predecessor. It was, essentially, punk-inspired
pop. I had loads of fun fun tracking down the new wave references in “Dancer”
and I’ll show you what I found further down.
International connections
Gin Ga is yet
another example of an Austrian band that has gained more recognition internationally
than locally. What certainly worked to Gin Ga’s advantage was the fact that
they have a Belgian manager who managed to get them not only gigs abroad, but
also airplay in Poland, Spain, France and, of course, in Belgium. Also, for a
while Gin Ga collaborated with James Stelfox, a British bassist they’d met at a
gig in Brussels. These international connections helped them to get out of the confinement
of the Austrian pop scene and also gave them the international endorsement
needed in order to be taken seriously in Austria.
Their second
album, “Yes/No”, was released with Monkey Music late last year. The album
exudes self-confidence and energy and is full of memorable songs that often give
me flashbacks of post-punk England. “Dancer”, however, is the song that
immediately grabbed my attention (click here to watch
their homemade-style video!).
New wave from Austria
So what exactly
are the main ingredients needed to qualify a song as new wave?
Item 1: An
attitude and energy clearly derived from punk. Check.
Item 2: Elements reminiscent of the era,
namely late 70s to mid-80s. Check.
Item 3: Greater attention to songwriting and
melodies than is the case in punk, as well as use of synth sounds. Check!
“Dancer”
starts off with octaves in the bass that just scream 80s. Think New Order’s
“Blue Monday” (1983), Bronski Beat’s “Smalltown Boy” (1984) or Visage’s “Fade
to Grey” (1980). After a short intro frontman Alex Konrad takes centre stage
with the first verse. He clearly belongs to the long line of such punk and
post-punk performers as Joe Strummer (The Clash), Billy Idol or Robert Smith
(The Cure), all of whom are not “good” singers in the classical sense, but whose
vocals are chock-full of drama and raw emotion.
In the third
line of each verse background shouts are employed for emphasis (e.g. “And with
my first breath” in the 1st verse). Yelling vocals were common in punk and were
then often adopted in new wave, e.g. in “Burning down the House” (1983) by
Talking Heads. Another element that characterises the verses is the rhythmic
motif played by a variety of industrial-sounding percussion instruments like
those used by Depeche Mode in “People are People” (1984). This motif also has a
similarly defining function as the one in Soft Cell’s “Tainted Love” (1981).
“To the left, to the right!”
The lyrics
could well be just a load of mumbo-jumbo or, alternatively, so profound that my
shallow mind cannot fathom them. Gin Ga chose a clever, stable structure for
the lyrics (starting every verse with “I was a dancer before I was born/before
I could walk/before I could speak/before I was sold”) that allows them to say
almost anything and lets it sound extremely meaningful.
The chorus is
just plain fun: “To the left, to the right / To the left, to the right /
D-d-d-dancer, dancer!” Although the chorus suddenly gets more of a 90s trip-hop
vibe with Massive Attack-style strings, I still found a new wave reference: the
“d-d-d-dancer” reminds me of “M(-m-m-m)y Sharona” (The Knack, 1979)!
Conclusion
In truth,
this song would be predestined to become something of an indie party anthem.
The band even invented a little dance to go with it. How great is that?! A
group of friends in England obviously had great fun making their own reconstruction of the“Dancer” video. What I’d love to see is an entire audience doing the moves.
It would certainly be a way of showing the guys that they’re also appreciated at
home and not just abroad …
PART 5 - AUSTRIA SERIES
I’ve chosen this track off Camo & Krooked’s third studio album “Zeitgeist” (released last September) for the 5th instalment of my Austria Series, firstly because of its relaxed, yet danceable vibe, making it the perfect track for any summer party, and secondly because Camo & Krooked themselves rate it their favourite tune off the album.
Austrian DJs Camo & Krooked (whose real names are Reinhard Rietsch and Markus Wagner) started collaborating in 2007 and have since been making a name for themselves as a drum and bass production outfit. Their track “Watch It Burn” (feat. Ayah Marar), for instance, has been viewed more than 6 million times on YouTube, and they are sought-after DJs, with upcoming gigs at locations from the UK and Belgium to Russia and Japan. And their 321,000+ Facebook likes speak for themselves.
Expanding their range
Camo & Krooked have expanded their musical range with their latest album. They’d been feeling a bit bored with the electronic dance music scene, so they wanted to do something fresh and organic. And in my opinion, they have created a tasteful album that works in the club, but doesn’t grind on your nerves if you put it on at home.
When asked to pinpoint their main influences, Camo & Krooked name disco, French house and minimal. There’s no mistaking these influences on “Loving You Is Easy”, which I love because of the stark contrast between the upbeat disco parts and the extremely restrained minimal sections. I’ll talk a bit later about what C&K do to intensify this contrast.
Disco meets minimal
The first few seconds of the track leave no doubt as to what awaits us: the long brass note and arpeggiated strings immediately take us back a few decades and put us in a disco state of mind. The intro then introduces the piano/bass riff that forms the meat and potatoes of the entire track. (I’ve written it down in a simplified form, i.e. without the ghost notes, although it’s exactly those ghost notes that make it so rhythmical and funky.) If you listen closely, you can also hear little breathers that are used as percussive elements. The soulful vocal sample (I’m tempted to think it’s an original vintage sample, although it could just be one helluva studio singer) is then introduced and gives the disco sections body and warmth. Its extreme emotionality also contributes towards the contrast between the disco and minimal sections.
Masters of their craft
So, what do C&K do to enhance the contrast between the sections? With the precision and attention to detail we’ve come to expect from C&K, they create more density in the bit leading up to the next section and then make a clean cut. For instance, in the second half of the vocal part they build up the sound effects and add a swoosh sound, all of which are abruptly cut off when the minimal bit begins (0:33). This technique highlights the new section’s decidedly dry and stripped-down character. This is exactly the same effect I’ve always loved about “One Night in Bangkok” (Murray Head, 1984): the chorus begins – “One night in Bangkok and the world’s your oyster” – with its expansive instrumentation and no shortage of reverb, and in the second line – “The bars are temples but the pearls ain’t free” –we have a cutoff on the word “temples”, with only a minimalist bass line remaining until everything builds up again. I love this effect – if done well, it is a moment of surprise that creates variety, excitement, intensity.
Less is more
But back to “Loving You Is Easy”. So, the secret is in the build-up through the addition of instruments, effects, etc. so that the next bit is all the more surprising. In essence, the minimal bit consists only of bass, bass drum and a minimal sound playing the F minor scale (without the 6th; see it notated) – you can hardly get more minimal than that. And again C&K amp up the effects and the reverb towards the end of the 8-bar form, as well as putting a delay on the melody, just to cut it all off again when the next section begins.
In the subsequent disco parts, C&K reinforce their homage to that era with a Chic-style guitar and later with a couple of string falls (2:36 and 2:44). And, as if they hadn’t made me happy enough yet, C&K end the track with a synth sound that would make Giorgio Moroder proud.
Conclusion
Thank you, Camo & Krooked, for creating an infectious track for no other reason than to make us happy! It’s the soundtrack of my summer.
See the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9IiagqBBHs
Part 4 - Austria Series
This blog entry is about a Vienna-based duo called Fijuka. The two founding members, Ankathie Koi (lead vocals) and Judith Filimónova (bass), met at university in Vienna and formed Fijuka in 2011. They describe themselves as a “synthie-pop-electronica minded band”, but they’re not at all what I’d expect from that label (personally, I’d expect the clean, crisp digital sound of, say, La Roux or Chvrches). Thanks to the analogue synth sounds they use and the real electric bass, Fijuka’s sound is quite natural and warm. The three distinctive elements of Fijuka’s music are the charisma and voice of Ankathie, the synth sounds and the bass lines.
Voice
Let’s start with Ankathie, a singer from a small town on the Bavarian-Austrian border, who manages to invoke the spirit of such weird and wonderful pop ladies as Kate Bush, Elly Jackson, Feist, Imogen Heap or Róisín Murphy. In the verse of “Behave (From Now On)”, for instance, her voice has a similar timbre to Kate Bush in “The Man With the Child in His Eyes”, while the verse of “Phantom Sentimental” has a rhythmic quality similar to La Roux’s “Bulletproof”. And you know what – Ankathie’s strong accent doesn’t even bother me. I think it’s because of Fijuka’s tongue-in-cheek attitude. I often find strong foreign accents disconcerting when the singers take themselves too seriously or when the music is trying to sound decidedly American or English. But I can accept an accent as part of an ironic or experimental concept, or when the music has an obvious European vibe. Björk’s accent, to name one example, is an integral part of her whole image and fits in perfectly. Also, Ankathie’s self-confidence and charisma in her performances compel you to accept whatever she offers as gospel. Her weird gyrations in the video to “Behave (From Now On)” are so bonkers you can’t help but watch (not to mention that I NEED those stunning technicolour tights!).
Synth
Fijuka use vintage synth sounds that give their music a decidedly retro touch. In one of their live videos, you can see Ankathie playing a Roland RS-09, an analogue synthesizer that hit the stores in 1979, which is why it evokes that typical early 80s sound in Fijuka’s songs – although I don’t think that Fijuka are specifically going for an 80s revival sound. Rather, the synthesizer’s often cheesy sounds make it the logical choice for their whimsical overall concept.
What also sets Fijuka apart from contemporary synthpop is their comparative simplicity. While there’s always a lot going on in synthpop, with a whole range of sound layers working together at the same time, Fijuka keep it simple with just vocals, drums, bass, harmonic synth, and occasionally a melodic line in the synth – and that’s it. Some might call that under-produced, and who’s to say a good producer wouldn’t get even more out of the songs, but personally I don’t feel like there’s anything missing.
Bass
The bass lines in Fijuka’s songs play an important role, owing to the fact that the other half of the duo, Judith Filimónova, is a professional bass player. And because there aren’t so many different musical elements vying for the listener’s attention, we take more notice of the bass. While the driving bass line in “Behave (From Now On)” consists of “Billie Jean”-style eighth notes, “Phantom Sentimental” has a decidedly funky feel.
Videos
You’ve just got to watch Fijuka’s videos. They used young directors who did a great job of creating a professional, international look for both videos. In “Phantom Sentimental” (directed by Marie-Thérèse Zumtobel and Anselm Hartmann), you’ll see Ankathie and Judith being treated like meat, literally. And “Behave (From Now On)” (directed by Florian Pochlatko) is just so eccentric and comic in a way, that I never tire of watching it.
See the videos here:
Part 3 - Austria Series
This time I just couldn’t bring myself to choose one favourite song, so I’ve decided to take a more general view. Today I’m looking at a Viennese rock band called Tyler.
First time I heard Tyler was on a Servus TV programme, I think in 2010. With the help of Shazam, I found out who it was, and was blown away to learn that it was an Austrian band. The song was “What’s Wrong” from Tyler’s debut album, “Don’t Play” (2005). What first caught my attention was the bass line, which the electric guitar doubles in the second half of the intro. A clever technique is letting the beginning of the vocal line imitate the movement of the bass line (B - C# - D), giving it more weight and power.
At any rate, from that moment onward, I was a Tyler fan. And in my opinion, “Don’t Play” shouldn’t be missing from any self-respecting Austrian pop-rock aficionado’s music library. Every song on that album is a gem with its own individual character. “Separated”, “All My Weapons”, “Can’t Break Me” and “Any City” are rock songs with strong melodies; to me they sound grungy in parts and remind me a bit of Stone Temple Pilots. “Wantcha” is a pretty funky track, and “Beautiful”, “Stay Awake” (one of my faves), “Hello” and “Paper Maché Darts” are great rock ballads.
Composition + Production + Killer Vocals = Tyler
What sets Tyler apart is firstly their musical originality and creativity. In a genre where a lot of bands seem to think they can get away with weak/uninspired/monotonous melodies by focussing on production, I really admire bands that attach importance to melody and harmony. Songwriter and lead singer Lukas Hillebrand even uses first and second inversions (e.g. C major chord with E resp. G in the bass) – frankly, that impresses me.
The second thing that sets these guys apart is the brilliant production. A music producer’s job requires a great deal of sensitivity to know which element is needed at which moment in a song, and it’s usually the smallest details that make the difference in the end. If you listen to the first 20 seconds of “Separated”, for instance, you’ll hear a whole lot of tiny elements that work together to create excitement. These layers have to be done just right to work and I just love Tyler’s attention to detail.
One more point I need to mention is the vocal performance of Lukas Hillebrand – this guy can sing! Not only does he have the whole rock thing going on, but his head voice sounds fabulous. He can also switch dynamics seamlessly and his phrasing is impeccable. And on top of everything, he makes it all sound effortless and uncontrived. If I had to name one complaint it would be that the balance of the lead vocals is a bit off in the mix – they should quite simply be louder.
An Austrian ending
So now brace yourselves for the blow: in 2011 Tyler released their second album, “Favourite Sin”, only to disband later that year. Tyler was one of the many casualties of Austria’s unsupportive stance towards its own musicians (pop musicians, in particular) during the past few years/decades. In my opinion, it’s inexcusable that this band got so little support and, subsequently, so little recognition that they were forced to throw in the towel.
Conclusion
Granted, Lukas Hillebrand, Alex Pohn (drums) and Peter Schönbauer (bass) aren’t twiddling their thumbs; they are sought-after songwriters/producers/musicians (primarily for Austrian singer Julian le Play at the moment). But Tyler is sorely missed in the Austrian music scene. All fans can do is listen and re-listen to “Don’t Play” and “Favourite Sin” and hope for a reunion gig some day.
Part 2 – Austria Series
What do you do if you landed a surprise hit and now everyone is expecting you to repeat that level of success or even top it? Well, you could do one of two things. Either say “whatever, I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing” and cross your fingers that things will work out. Or you do your homework, reflect on what people want to hear, create something that fits the bill, and cross your fingers that you got it right. Either way, it’s never a surefire thing.
The Makemakes, a rock band from the district of Flachgau in Salzburg Province, took the latter approach. With their first single, “Lovercall” (2012), a groovy little number with a Maroon 5 vibe, the Makemakes achieved the virtually impossible: they got into the Austrian charts under their own steam, without a casting show behind them, as is usually the case in this country. So, what to do next? The Makemakes took their time in releasing a follow-up single and, knowing how important the second release is – being the moment of truth that either reveals the first success as a fluke, or confirms a band’s high quality – obviously put a lot of consideration into their next single, “Million Euro Smile” (2014). The result was a song that exceeded all expectations, reaching 2nd place in the Austrian Top 40. A truly remarkable achievement!
The art of writing a hit song
Writing a song with an explicit view to creating a hit is no easy feat. Many have tried, but crashed and burned. The fact is that there are certain obvious prerequisites, such as a catchy tune, and certain parameters you can follow, but ultimately audiences are fickle and there are no guarantees.
For “Million Euro Smile”, the Makemakes drew on Rock ’n’ Roll and classic Motown for inspiration. The music of the 50s/60s has provided inspiration for a great number of pop songs throughout the subsequent decades. I can think of a few off the top of my head: The 80s brought us Billy Joel’s album “An Innocent Man” (1983), including, most notably, “Uptown Girl” and “Tell Her About It”, and Soulsister’s “The Way to Your Heart” (1988). The UK seems to have a soft spot for this style of retro pop music, with “Give Me a Little More Time” (1996) by Gabrielle in the 90s, Amy Winehouse and Duffy in the noughties, and more recently “Black Heart” (2012) by Stooshe.
The advantage of referencing past styles is that people respond immediately because it sounds so familiar, which is a definite bonus. Songs that break new ground often don’t get the reception they deserve for the simple reason that they take getting used to.
Conformity vs deviation
“Million Euro Smile” is a pretty straightforward retro-style song: it has elements from doo-wop, rock ’n’ roll and classic Motown – e.g. the la-da-da intro, the frenzied chord repetitions in the piano part of the verse, the accentuated backbeat in the drums, the horn section (courtesy of the legendary LaBrassBanda from Bavaria). The list could go on and on.
It might be more interesting to note the elements that DON’T adhere to the retro blueprint. Firstly, the band chose to give the vocals a highly compressed and saturated sound – I don’t think they were going for a vintage sound, but rather wanted to make the voice a bit edgier, so that the song wouldn’t end up overly sweet and naive (unfortunately, at the expense of intelligibility). Secondly, there’s this short bit at the end of the second chorus (from 2:02) where the song suddenly goes into a halftime feeling and there is a long delay on the vocals. The more contemporary vibe makes this bit stand out and listeners can, just for a few moments, catch their breath before being plunged straight back into the nostalgic rollercoaster ride.
The third thing that deviates from the blueprint is the lyrics. Tradition would have it that the lyrics of songs in this style should deal with love exclusively, and at first glance “Million Euro Smile” would seem to oblige. But, as I later learned, the lyrics are in fact about the Euro. Yup, you read right. Dodo Muhrer, the band’s lead singer and songwriter, said in an interview that “the song was written at a time when the EU Member States were thinking about how the whole situation with the euro should go on.” Personally, I’d prefer the straightforward approach with regard to the lyrics. But then again, the band’s intention was probably to offset the song’s retro sound by giving it lyrics with a contemporary context.
Conclusion
The Makemakes managed to create a song that became a hit in Austria. Following up on a first-time hit is always daunting, but they took a calculated risk and were rewarded. For me, though, knowing that these guys can really rock, I’m hoping that they’ll show us more of that on their album, which is scheduled for release in autumn.
Part 1 - Austria Series
I’m kicking off my Austria Series with Bilderbuch, one of the most exciting bands the country has to offer at the moment. Bilderbuch have been on the Austrian alternative scene for nine years, and are now finally enjoying a breakthrough with “Maschin”, a single off their EP “Feinste Seide”.
While the band’s earlier work conveys a sense of youthful energy and urgency, they seem to have matured and found a sound and style that appeals to a more mainstream audience while maintaining just enough of their original punk attitude so as not to disappoint their hardcore fans. The reward is growing success, awards and, as of today, close to 790,000 YouTube clicks for “Maschin”.
After Falco’s heyday, which lasted from 1985 to 1987, the Austrian pop scene fell into a funk, and his larger-than-life persona has been sorely missed since his death in 1998. Bilderbuch’s frontman, Maurice Ernst, might just have what it takes to fill the void. He struts around the stage with the aloofness and theatricality of a stage veteran, making him completely irresistible to watch. And you need a special kind of self-confidence to rock the jacket he wore at the Amadeus Awards this year (www.youtube.com/watch?v=vsvrABRqgI8).
So let’s look at the song: Although Bilderbuch’s lyrics often contain surreal images that can’t/aren’t meant to be understood on an intellectual level, I think “Maschin” can be summed up as follows: Essentially, the verses seem to be about a guy trying to pick up a girl by convincing her to get into his swanky car, but when the chorus comes along we get the impression that he’s actually singing to his car, his Maschin. The video reinforces this idea of the guy’s love affair with his car (a bright yellow Lamborghini, no less). Musically, the song owes a lot of its sultriness to the sensual vocals, and I feel that Maurice Ernst has come into his own and found a style that makes the best of his vocal skills and suits him to a T.
The bass line is the first defining musical element of “Maschin”. It seems so simple when you see it written down, but it works so well with the other elements that you even forget you’re hearing the most basic of chord progressions: I – V – IV – I (Cm – Gm – Fm – Cm).
The second is the guitar riff, doubled with a synth. It appears in a simplified form in the song’s intro and interlude between verses 1 and 2, and in its entirety in the chorus. So, considering that the whole song is built on a largely unchanging bass line, a simple chord progression and a guitar riff, what keeps it from being boring or banal?
Well, the most memorable part of the song is, of course, the chorus. The first thing you notice is the syllable repetition à la “Barbara Ann” (“Lala-la-la-lala-lass mich nicht los/Lele-le-le-lele-leg dich zu mir/Haha-ha-ha-haha-halt mich fest”), which always adds a playful or ironic touch and immediately lets us know that none of this is really serious. After this flood of syllables in the first three lines of the chorus, ending it with no more than the two syllables of the word and title “Maschin” is an effective way of drawing attention to it and making it stand out. And coming to the melody in the chorus: A banal melodic solution would involve orbiting around the tonic, third or fifth of the respective chords. But Bilderbuch’s chorus consists primarily of repetitions of B flat, which is first the seventh (of Cm) and then the fourth (of Fm). This creates tension and hence interest.
I’m really curious to see what these guys do next. I’d like to see them dig deeper in the box of genius from whence “Maschin” came, create more of this kind of stuff, which can appeal to a wider audience, and then get really big. So here’s me crossing my fingers that they’ll get support from the right people and make smart decisions.
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