Month: April 2020

Tori Kelly | Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing

Stevie Wonder‘s “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing” was originally released in 1973 on his album Innervisions and exudes a positivity that we could all use a little bit of right now. The performance here features Tori Kelly in a cover included in the 2016 animated feature Sing Movie. Beginning in Eb minor, the tune kicks up one half step at 2:16, and then another at 2:32.

Louis Cole | Tunnels in the Air

More often than not, electronica/funk/pop artist Louis Cole writes uptempo tunes about downer subjects. AllMusic calls him “a left-field pop musician whose energized material often puts an ebullient spin on everyday pitfalls.” Louis Cole is the co-founder of Knower, has written for Seal and co-written with Thundercat, has played with Snarky Puppy, opened (along with Genevieve Artadi, the other half of Knower) for the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and collaborated with celebrated jazz pianist Brad Mehldau on a recent track “Real Life.”

Pitchfork‘s review of Cole’s 2018 album, Time, can’t be improved upon:

“The mark of a great chord progression is a peculiar mixture of surprise and inevitability. On first listen, you find yourself confused by the way that one chord follows another, refusing to follow the well-trodden path: jumping when they should step and bounding when they should glide. Eventually, once the song has burned itself into your brain—once its course has remapped your own neural pathways—you’ll have trouble imagining a world where these curious patterns didn’t exist. But even then, even after no matter how many plays, that harmonic dodge-and-feint will still produce the tiniest frisson of wrongness. It’s among the sweetest dopamine hits that music is capable of producing.

Louis Cole’s instrument of choice is the drums, but he definitely knows his way around a killer set of changes. Time, his third album, is brimming with strange, counterintuitive progressions—chords that seem to slip sideways, tumbling into one another, jostling and pivoting just when you don’t expect. An unusual mixture of hard funk and soft pop, like Zapp and Burt Bacharach stuck in an elevator together, Cole’s is a sly, jubilant sound; it makes good use of the way funk also thrives upon a sense of wrongness, a screw-faced delight at things gone awry.”

“Tunnels in the Air” (2018) starts in G minor; at 2:26, the track modulates up to Bb minor. The outro gives us a space-age church pipe organ at 2:57 — right down to a traditional plagal cadence into a closing Eb major.

Janis Joplin | Me and Bobby McGee

“Me and Bobby McGee,” written by Kris Kristofferson and Fred Foster, was a #1 hit, despite the fact that its singer, Janis Joplin, passed away from a drug overdose before its release. It was her only number one single and is ranked #148 Rolling Stone’s list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. The tune has been covered by a wide range of artists, including Kenny Rogers, Gordon Lightfoot, Jerry Lee Lewis, The Grateful Dead, Blind Melon, Melissa Etheridge, and Pink.

According to Rolling Stone, “Joplin recorded the song for inclusion on her album, Pearl, only a few days before her death in October 1970…Kristofferson did not know she had recorded it until after her death. The first time he heard her recording of it was the day after she died.”

After starting in G major, there’s an unusually early whole-step modulation to A major at 1:15.

Aretha Franklin | Who’s Zoomin’ Who?

In this time of social distancing (or social solidarity, as a wise neighbor described it) and the resulting popularity spike of a certain video conferencing platform, Aretha Franklin’s smash hit album Who’s Zoomin’ Who? (1985) has been top of mind. The album featured several uptempo hits, including “Freeway of Love” and her iconic duo with Annie Lennox, “Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves.” The album became the best-selling non-compilation release of Aretha’s career, often compared to Tina Turner’s blockbuster 1984 album Private Dancer.

From Rolling Stone’s review: “Though Who’s Zoomin’ Who? never quite comes together as an album…this is some of Aretha Franklin’s best work since the 1960s…The example of Tina Turner acted as goad and inspiration, and the edge of rich brashness in Aretha’s performances seems sparked by Turner’s electric drive … enough vocal brilliance here to stun any listener within range.”

After a bridge starting at 2:45, the title track modulates up a full step at 2:59 — oddly, just as the wall-of-sound accompaniment dies down. But the lull in the action sets the stage for Aretha’s vocal fireworks to return at 3:20.

Organ Freeman | Go By Richard, Not By Dick

Here’s a submission from our regular contributor Carlo Migliaccio: “Go By Richard, Not By Dick” by Organ Freeman. The LA-based organ trio has been described as “Medeski, Martin + Wood, but about 20 years younger,” by ShowTheShow.com.

According to Carlo, “The tonal center moves around a bit, but the modulation that made me smile starts at about 2:45, then again at 3:10.” But harmony is hardly the only weapon in the trio’s arsenal: at 4:00, the tempo falls off a cliff, gradually regaining full force by about 4:50; in the interim, the funk groove remains as strong as ever, mixing in several ornate countermelodies. A Youtube commenter left this capsule review: “This starts off as the carwash music from Gran Turismo … and ends in the kind of energy that is used to create planets.”

Talking Heads | Psycho Killer

A contribution from our frequent mod flyer JB: “Psycho Killer,” a single from the debut album of the American art punk band Talking Heads, Talking Heads 77 (1977), reached #92 on the Billboard hot 100. The tune also earned a place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s 500 Songs that Shaped Rock and Roll.

AllMusic calls the track a “deceptively funky ‘New Wave/No Wave song’ with an insistent rhythm, and one of the most memorable, driving bass lines in rock and roll.” From Robert Christgau’s review in The Village Voice: “…these are spoiled kids, but without the callowness or adolescent misogyny…in the end the record proves not only that the detachment of craft can coexist with a frightening intensity of feeling—something most artists know—but that the most inarticulate rage can be rationalized. Which means they’re punks after all.”

The tune overall is in A minor, with an intermittent overlay of A major in this live version; not surprising, given the absolute primacy of Tina Weymouth’s iconic bassline. The bridge (3:28 – 4:05) is an odd mix, but is built around A major. The modulation hits with zero warning and a complete lack of fuss at the bridge, which continues with a choppy energy, befitting the perpetual motion machine that the band has set in place. Unlike the studio version, this live performance features Adrian Belew, known for his work with King Crimson, on guitar; Belew’s solo could probably win the award for “Best Guitar in the role of a Theremin.”

Frédéric Chopin | Prelude in Db Major, Op. 28, #15 (Vladimir Horowitz, piano)

One of Frédéric Chopin‘s most beloved works, his Prelude in Db Major, Op. 28, No. 15 (1838) is often called the “Raindrop” prelude — the repeating patter of Ab/G#3 throughout the piece symbolizing raindrops. The piece is a large-scale ABA form, beginning and ending in Db Major, with the middle section in the parallel C# minor (the change to minor occurs at 1:35; the return to major at 4:05.) This piece has been on my mind over the last few weeks, as I think it presents as an interesting metaphor for the times we are living in: the first A section our lives before lockdown, the B section our darker present, and the final A section the light we will return to, with the incessant repetition of the Ab/G# our unyielding heartbeat, our humanity, staying consistent throughout. Performed here by the unparalleled Vladimir Horowitz.

Thomas Dolby | The Flat Earth

After releasing his debut album Golden Age of Wireless, which featured his iconic hit “She Blinded Me With Science,” UK songwriter / keyboardist / synthesist / vocalist Thomas Dolby‘s work took a turn towards the atmospheric. Much of his second album, The Flat Earth, had a gentler, more organic sound. A huge contributing factor to the sound of both albums was bassist Matthew Seligman, whose imaginative, wide-ranging style is front and center in the mix throughout. Much of Seligman’s work on The Flat Earth was on fretless bass, further burnishing the sound.

Seligman also worked with David Bowie and The Thompson Twins; did session work for Morrissey, Tori Amos, the Waterboys, and more; and co-founded The Soft Boys. He passed away last week from complications of COVID-19 at the age of 64.

AllMusic reports that Seligman’s bass on The Flat Earth “is a welcome addition — throughout the album his work is lavish, growling, popping through octaves, funk-a-fied and twinkling with harmonics. The title track is a wondrous R&B daydream of piano and Motown stabs of rhythm guitar…”

Although the tune is largely in Db major, there’s a short bridge in D major (3:33 – 4:02), striated by layers of nearly wordless vocals, before a transition back to the original key.