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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 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.
“Rather Be” by Clean Bandit featuring Jess Glynne is a song that originated in the UK, took Europe by storm and also made its way into the American Billboard charts. Most reviews I’ve read applaud the song’s “freshness”. For me, it is certainly fresh in the sense of light and joyful – and I do love its happy-go-lucky vibe – but not so much in the sense of new or unique. Let me tell you why.
Picking and choosing
I believe that what makes this song so likeable is the fact that it sounds like we’ve heard it before. “Rather Be” isn’t exactly original, but it cleverly unites various elements we’ve heard elsewhere. For example, the use of strings in dance music is a tradition that goes way back: think 70s disco hits like those of Chic, or the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever. Granted, these songs usually feature a full violin section as opposed to the solo instruments used by Clean Bandit, but the concept is by no means new.
Other elements of “Rather Be” remind me of early 90s dancefloor hits. The piano riff in the chorus – especially as it is played from 2:23 – reminds me a lot of the piano parts in, say, Madonna’s “Vogue” (1990) and CeCe Peniston’s “Finally” (1991). Also, compare the synth organ riff in “Gypsy Woman” (1991) by Crystal Waters, or the synth in “What is Love?” (1993) by Haddaway. On top of that, I can’t help thinking of 2Unlimited’s “No Limit” (1993) when I hear that “No no no no no” hook.
Colouring by numbers
Then there are other aspects that are typical for dance, like the way the drums build up, starting at 0:32 with a simple four-on-the-floor beat, getting fuller and more complex from section to section, of course culminating in the hook (“No no no no no / No place I’d rather be”). Then there’s the break at 2:52 where the vocals are left a cappella, only to soar into a final repetition of the chorus. All of these aspects contribute towards the general sense of familiarity when we hear this song. Cleverly done by the band.
Fusion that works
Clean Bandit’s sound is basically a “fusion” of electronic and classical elements, with a varying proportion of strings in each track. In 2013 the band released the intriguingly weird single “Mozart’s House”, which to me sounds as if a string quartet was caught rehearsing next door to Daft Punk back in 1997. In “Rather Be”, however, the strings play a comparatively small role, and the song would work just as well without them. Admittedly, they introduce the riff at the very beginning of the song, but as soon as Jess Glynne starts to sing, the synth takes over, and from then onwards they just add texture here and there. I think the understated use of strings in this song was wise, as the worst thing the band could have done would’ve been to crowbar the strings in just to make a point. Good judgment is vital when trying to make a “fusion” concept work – and, let’s face it, it’s a concept that can go embarrassingly wrong.
I also like their signature synth sounds, which call to mind vintage Atari games; they create a rhythmic carpet that forms a contrast to the smooth vocal melody and the legato lines in the strings.
As far as the vocals are concerned, I’m pleased to see that full voices with character and warmth are enjoying a comeback, after all the nasal-voiced ladies who dominated British pop from the late 2000s. It seems there is a general trend towards a new sound ideal.
Conclusion
“Rather Be” is a catchy, to my ears very European-sounding song, and I’m curious to hear the rest of Clean Bandit’s debut album, “New Eyes”, scheduled to be released at the end of May or early June. From what I’ve heard of it, it should present a coherent overall picture, with some tracks more on the deep house end of the scale and others more pop oriented in the style of “Rather Be”.
Sam Smith is the darling of the hour in his home country of England and there’s no denying his vocal qualities. But it’s interesting to observe the path of “Stay With Me” as it forges its way through the world’s charts. The single was initially released in April of this year and was immediately well received in English-speaking countries such as the UK, Canada, Ireland and New Zealand (interestingly, it never peaked in Australia though). This week it finally reached the top spot in the Billboard charts. And now that the US have given it their stamp of approval, the song is inching up the charts in other countries as well, currently holding 8th place in Switzerland, 15th in Germany and 18th in Austria, for instance. And Smith’s performance of the song at this year’s VMAs (Sunday, 24 August) is bound to further boost its success.
So “Stay With Me” obviously strikes a chord with English-speaking nationalities, but what is it about this song, exactly? I’m personally not a big fan of this song – frankly, I find it a bit dull and generic, and definitely one of the weaker tracks on what is otherwise quite a decent debut album – but I’m going to try to find those qualities that make the song appealing to so many people.
Thanks for the song, Tom Petty!
The first thing that struck me about “Stay With Me” is the chorus’s blatant similarity with “I Won’t Back Down” (1989) by that American icon Tom Petty. I’m actually surprised there haven’t been any legal ramifications as yet. Just this week Shakira was found guilty of plagiarism, so we’ll see if Petty objects. But the thing is, taking advantage of familiarity is a clever strategic move. For inhabitants of English-speaking countries, “I Won’t Back Down” is a golden oldie that everyone knows, so what better marketing ploy than to reference (read: copy) that tune. Where “Stay Like Me” consists of the three chords vi – IV – I (Am – F – C), Tom Petty uses vi – V – I, a negligible difference overall, especially considering that the melody in the chorus is practically identical. In the 3rd line, Sam Smith’s melody does take a softer, more melismatic approach, while Tom Petty offers us harmonic variety by way of an unexpected IV – but let’s face it, they’re essentially the same. So it stands to reason that many people would respond to the familiarity of “Stay With Me”.
NOT a love song
The entry of a Hammond organ and gospel-inspired backing vocals are also a nod to American culture, and there are many people who relate to gospel music on a deep level. But for me, the use of these elements is plain bizarre. As a general rule, a gospel choir instantly adds power to a song because, after all, it’s not just one person telling you something, but 20, so you’d better believe it. Their job is to confirm and reinforce what the lead singer is saying, just as they would in the traditional church setting. But here’s the thing: “Stay With Me” is about a guy who feels an immense sense of emptiness and loneliness after a one-night stand, so the idea of having a whole choir underlining the idea of loneliness is just absurd to me. I think the arrangement is also misleading as to what the song is actually about. I’m pretty sure there are ill-informed brides out there who are requesting this song at their wedding in the erroneous belief that it’s a love song. I’d recommend reading through the entire lyrics. “Oh, won’t you stay with me? / ‘Cause you’re all I need” sounds sweet enough, but then “This ain’t love, it’s clear to see” shatters all illusions.
Ultimately, it is Sam Smith’s voice that carries the song, although I personally appreciate him more on songs like the soulful “I’m Not the Only One”, “Not In That Way”, or the 80s-inspired “Restart”.
Tough enough?
Sam Smith has said that his debut album, aptly titled “In The Lonely Hour”, was written for lonely people. And, for me, he generally has an aura of sadness about him. This is possibly what makes his voice so special. But when I see him in interviews, I feel kind of scared for this sweet, melancholy, vulnerable boy and sincerely hope that he can stand his ground in the music business and live to tell the tale.
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