“Leave it to the Counting Crows to follow its first two studio albums with a double live release,” (MusicBox Online). “Many have questioned the need for Across a Wire (1998), but one listen to the music contained on this set reveals the ingenious creativity of this multi-faceted group. The recordings were taken from the band’s appearances on VH-1’s Storytellers and MTV’s Live at the 10 Spot. One of the Counting Crows’ goals of performing on Storytellers was to present reworked versions of its songs. Therefore, although several of the tunes are repeated between the two discs, they are given remarkably different treatments …
Throughout Across a Wire, Adam Duritz’s voice has never sounded better. He masterfully channels the deep-seated emotion behind his lyrics as the band bathes his vocals in both swirling angst and subtle nuance. There’s never a dull moment at a concert by Counting Crows, and this set certainly captures the group at its best.”
Originating in F major, “Chelsea” shifts to a chorus in the closely related key of Bb major (first heard between 1:00 – 1:24). The change is played up yet further by the contrast between the hypnotic I-IV repetition of the the verse and the broader harmonic vocabulary of the chorus.
As quoted on his own website, Sting describes “When We Dance” (1994): “‘I wanted to bookend the Greatest Hits album with two new songs. It’s presumptuous, because you don’t know if a song’s going to be a hit, but ‘When We Dance’ seems to be going in the right direction. I’d never tried to write a hit before, a song designed to be played on the radio. This is basically a generic ballad, but it took me a year to write. I had no main idea for the song, so I came up with this love triangle. I love you and you love him. It has a flattened fifth at the end of the first line. It’s an unusual, uncomfortable sound, which suits the situation in the lyrics.’
A classic Sting ballad with a twist, the song was released as a (UK) single in October 1994 where it performed extremely well spending seven weeks on the chart and peaking at the #9 spot. It was less popular in the US, where its one week chart residency was at the #38 position.” The song became his only solo top 10 hit in the UK.
E major provides the setting for the tune’s first portion: a placid background for the twist of the knife that is the “flatted fifth” (which many would instead call a #11). 2:30 brings a side-step into a key change to F# major at 2:32.
“Weather Report were one of the earliest jazz fusion groups to emerge at the beginning of the ’70s,” (AllAboutJazz). “They were rare in that, like Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters, they didn’t have a guitarist to light the fire and excite the audience as was the case with Mahavishnu Orchestra and Return to Forever; instead, they relied, in addition to pure instrumental virtuosity, upon intelligent compositions. The band’s founding members were none other than Joe Zawinul and Wayne Shorter, two exceptional musicians who had already contributed considerably to Miles Davis’ continuing evolution throughout the ’60s and into the early ’70s; some of the great trumpeter’s most pioneering achievements might not, in fact, have been possible without them.
Now, forty years after the event, Heavy Weather (1977) was the Weather Report’s major commercial breakthrough; arguably their finest album ever, it succeeded in breathing new life into a genre that was challenged to compete against the latest pop/rock fads of the time. Part of the LP’s success, it must be said, was due to the group’s enlisting of John Francis ‘Jaco’ Pastorius, fretless electric bassist extraordinaire; a man who forever altered the perception of his instrument and whose self-titled 1976 Epic Records debut caused such a sensation that, at the time, many considered it to be one the greatest bass albums ever recorded.”
Heavy Weather‘s “A Remark You Made” isn’t full of the fireworks of the album’s uptempo tracks, such as “Birdland” or “Teen Town.” But it nonetheless clearly showcases the expert interaction among the band’s master musicians. After a start in Eb major, the plaintive main theme comes from the Jaco Pastorius’ fretless bass as the tonality flips to the relative minor, C minor, at 0:31, then continues for a gently atmospheric solo from bandleader Joe Zawinul’s keyboards until 1:11. Continuing in Eb major, Wayne Shorter’s fluid tenor takes the spotlight, joined here and there on the melody by Jaco (3:49) until the bass returns to holding down the roots (4:06) under a protracted solo from Zawinul that borders on hypnotic, cycling through only two chords. At 5:39, Jaco re-states the opening theme, then repeats it over and over; the upgoing lyrical melody is underlined all the more by the downward chromatic motion of the bass line itself, which ranges from C down to G before jumping back up to C during each cycle (starting at 5:39-5:50). At 6:21, A Db major chord wakes us from our sustained idyll; serving as a bVII of Eb, it delivers us back into the original Eb major.
“From the very beginning of her rise to international stardom, Annie Lennox desperately wanted to transcend her own fame,” (Pitchfork). “Her breakout single as one half of Eurythmics, 1983’s ‘Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This),’ encapsulated her anxieties as a frontwoman in the increasingly panoptic public eye: ‘Everybody’s looking for something,’ she warned … Like an international spy, Lennox used clothing and makeup as tools of professional disguise, continuously shapeshifting … many of Lennox’s characters served as commentary on societal perceptions of fame, wealth, and gender … But even if her facades had successfully warded off the media’s leering eye—even if she hadn’t been dubbed ‘Britain’s most tortured rock star’ … Lennox might still have justifiably burnt out by the end of the decade. Eurythmics were incredibly prolific, releasing almost an album a year starting with their 1981 debut In the Garden. Almost every album begot an international tour, with little downtime to recuperate. ‘I had this vision constantly towards the end of the Eurythmics period,’ Lennox later told Q, ‘my life was a bus, but I was running behind it. I just could not catch up with that fucking bus.'”
After she stepped away from Eurythmics and her longtime artistic partner Dave Stewart, “Diva (1992) broke dramatically with Eurythmics in style and substance: Where her work with Stewart trafficked in restless anxieties, her solo work was a step towards the wistful, patient resolve of womanhood … Despite the velveteen, varied instrumentation on Diva, Lennox’s voice is the album’s most essential and expansive element … a veritable one-woman orchestra.
In a decade marked by the meteoric rise of prefab boy bands, the explosion and subsequent implosion of Britpop, and the tragic, paparazzi-fueled death of Princess Diana, Diva is a prophetic warning about the acceleration of fame … In her eerily predictive manner, Lennox identified Ivana Trump as a bellwether for the growing influence wielded by, as she put it in 1992, ‘people famous for being famous.'”
On “Cold,” one of Diva‘s ballads, the verses never settle into one key (the music starts at 0:44, after a cinematic intro). The first progression, I – bIII – IV – I in G major (0:56 – 1:19), alternates with a second progression (1:20 – 1:43), which features the ii-V (and eventually the I) of the closely related key of D major. This tonality shift continues throughout all of the verses. Amid the rangy yet fluid melody and intensely emotive lyrics, somehow not a hair seems out of place.
We usually wrap up our week with an up-tempo rock or dance tune, but this week we’ll continue to look back at the singular career of legendary songwriter Burt Bacharach, whose work has been a frequent feature on MotD. Bacharach’s work not only featured a broad harmonic vocabulary — including plenty of modulations. It generally stepped lightly through complex harmonic and meter transitions which only fully came to light after several listening sessions, rarely “telegraphing” themselves in advance. Bacharach generally avoided cliché half-step or whole-step key changes; rather, he favored transitions between closely-related keys, which don’t hit the listener like a brick upside the head, but a bit more like the sun gradually peeking through the clouds. He hid all the seams and made the final result sound effortless.
Bacharach studied composition with composer Darius Milhaud, one of the members of the informal but influential guild of progressive French composers, “Les Six.” Key changes and meter changes were not special effects for Bacharach, but rather organic tools for expression. Composer/pianist Ethan Iverson reports that Milhaud “told Bacharach that he shouldn’t worry about dodecaphony and keep composing those nice melodies.”
Iverson continues: “In his 60s songs, Bacharach undoes conventional pop from deep underneath the surface. ‘Hooks’ are almost always a bit asymmetrical, but Burt’s are truly lopsided. In the background of his radio-friendly hits, there is an echo of bebop logic, an echo of Schoenbergian logic.” Lyricist Hal David, Iverson suggests, “searched a surreal and overcast meadow for unexpected rhyme and reason.” Iverson continues by saying that jazz musician Dave Frishberg, when learning to write memorable themes, studied “the ‘4 Bs’: The Beach Boys, the Beatles, Brazilian, and Bacharach. (‘Brazilian’ means Jobim, Gilberto, Mendes, etc.)”
“The Look of Love,” originally released by Dusty Springfield in 1967, was covered by jazz vocalist/pianist Diana Krall for a 2012 performance at the White House as part of the In Performance at the White House | Burt Bacharach + Hal David: The Library of Congress Gershwin Prize for Popular Song PBS broadcast in May 2012. While Bacharach was present for the performance, Krall’s emotional mention of David hints at the ill health of the lyricist, who lived only a few more months. Krall’s version of the #22 US pop hit, which features plenty of “Burt-isms” in her piano work, is in Bb major overall, but shifts to Bb minor from 3:59 – 4:10. The modulation is situated in the heart of an outro that seems lit only by hushed twilight (3:59 onward), during which Krall communes with her bassist as the two negotiate the subtle ritardando that brings the tune in for a landing. The final Bb major tonic chord rings out at 4:10, complicated by the quintessentially Bachrachian #11 tension Krall repeats several times.
Cleveland-based cabaret vocalist Dane Vannatter “is the recipient of two BackStage Bistro Awards, for Outstanding Vocalist and for his second CD Flight,” (The Music Settlement). “The Boston Globe acclaims Dane for ‘ … a style that blends facets of cabaret and jazz with intelligence and care, and a distinctive style that leaves an imprint on whatever music he sings.’
In Boston, Dane sang “God Bless America” for Fenway Park’s 100th anniversary before a record crowd of 40,000. Dane is a nominee for four MAC awards and is a Nightlife Award finalist … (he) performs regularly in venues in Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Boston, and Cape Cod. Dane’s fourth CD Give Me Something Real was released in 2016 to much critical acclaim. Dane is currently working on a holiday CD It’s December with legendary guitarist Joe Negri.”
Released in 2020, “The Best Part of Me” gives Vannatter an opportunity to work with a pop ballad sound — one with a rich harmonic vocabulary. With music written by Alex Rybeck and lyrics by Bob Levy, the track features Daniel May on piano. After two verses in F major, 1:22 brings a bridge featuring a fluid key change to D major; at 1:54, the tune reverts to its original key.
“David Crosby, a founding member of iconic 1960s rock bands the Byrds and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young and one of the most celebrated musicians of his generation, has died at the age of 81,” (Spin). A tribute on Facebook from Graham Nash: ” … what has always mattered to David and me more than anything was the pure joy of the music we created together, the sound we discovered with one another, and the deep friendship we shared over all these many long years. David was fearless in life and in music. He leaves behind a tremendous void as far as sheer personality and talent in this world. He spoke his mind, his heart, and his passion through his beautiful music and leaves an incredible legacy. These are the things that matter most … “
“The early 1970s BBC series In Concert featured some of the greatest performers of the folk rock / singer-songwriter era, including Joni Mitchell, Carole King, James Taylor, Cat Stevens and Neil Young in front of intimate crowds at the old BBC Television Centre in London,” (Dangerous Minds). In the case of each of the artists featured, the BBC sets are probably the very best records we have of these performers in their youthful prime. This is almost certainly the case with the gorgeous Crosby & Nash performance linked here. It’s a stunner.
After the success of their monstrously popular Déjà Vu album, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young,“the American Beatles” as they were often called (never mind that one was a Brit and another Canadian) broke up in the summer of 1970, with all four members of CSNY recording solo albums. Crosby’s If I Could Only Remember My Name and Nash’s Songs for Beginners appeared the following year. In the fall of 1970, the two toured as an acoustic duo previewing tunes from their upcoming albums and singing fan favorites.”
Written in E minor overall, there are several short passages in G minor (for instance, 1:59 – 2:07).
‘Til I Die” from The Beach Boys’ 1971 album Surf’s Up was “one of the only songs written by Brian (Wilson) for which he wrote the lyrics as well the music, (American Songwriter). “Usually other lyricists, such as Mike Love, Van Dyke Parks and Tony Asher, wrote the words to his songs. This one was inspired by Brian’s confrontation with the immensity of the universe. ‘The ocean was so incredibly vast,’ Brian said, ‘the universe was so large, and suddenly I saw myself in proportion to that, a little pebble of sand, a jellyfish floating on top of the water; traveling with the current I felt dwarfed, temporary. The next day I began writing Til I Die, perhaps the most personal song I ever wrote for The Beach Boys.’
Don Was, (the noted producer), said that Brian told him the chords for the song were created by the way they looked geometrically. ‘He essentially created this masterpiece by contorting his fingers into really groovy shapes (on the piano),’ said Was.”
“‘Til I Die’ is the most personal and revealing track he ever wrote, depicting the troubled young songwriter as … an isolated, helplessly adrift person who will be at the mercy of others ‘until I die,” (Sputnik Music). “Surf’s Up represents desolation and despair, not visceral in nature, but rather submissive to fate and the hell it will bring. Anyone with a basic knowledge of Beach Boys history can connect the dots regarding what this album is representing: the woes of Brian Wilson as his struggles with addiction and depression spiraled to some of their lowest points.”
Dropping right into the first verse without so much as a note of introduction, the tune shifts tonality often, meandering among several keys but never quite finding a home in any of them. At 1:40, a prominent repeating bass vocal part finally provides some grounding for the outro, which is an extended one given the tune’s overall length of only 2:33.
“Robert Glasper’s2012 album Black Radio was a groundbreaking collection that combined hip-hop, R&B, jazz and more into a diverse yet cohesive package … (SoulTracks.com). It was justly honored with the Best R&B Album award at the 55th Grammys, recognizing both its ambitiousness and its near flawless execution. It also begat the critically acclaimed Black Radio 2 a year later.”
“Glasper has released two albums of what you might call neo-soul, or maybe organic R&B, featuring a core band (The Robert Glasper Experiment) and guest stars like Erykah Badu, Lupe Fiasco and Norah Jones. Black Radio and last year’s sequel, Black Radio 2, aren’t heard much on ‘urban’ radio, but the point is that they ought to be,” (NPR Music). “Glasper builds his songs with old-school values: singers and MCs who don’t need software to carry a melody, improvising within a band, hand-building beats and vamps with live instruments.”
After a start in Bb major, the bridge of this slow but cutting ballad shifts to Bb minor from 2:50 – 3:24 before reverting to the original key.
Tommy James, along with his band, The Shondells, scored a Billboard #4 in 1967 with the just-over-2-minutes bubblegum rocker “I Think We’re Alone Now”. The song, written by Ritchie Cordell (who also co-wrote another Shondells hit, “Mony Mony”), stuck to one key throughout.
Over 50 years later, in 2019, James reprised the song on his album Alive, featuring only acoustic guitar and background vocals, and a much slower tempo. Missing in this version are the percussive “heartbeats” from the original, perhaps because at this tempo, they would be suggestive of brachycardia. James’ voice, perhaps sweetened by a touch of autotune, is really the highlight here.
The song starts in A; in addition to some subtle re-harmonization here and there, it features an elegant modulation to C at 2:18.