Music: February 2008 Archives
“The best thing about Detroit is the people. They have to be some of the warmest people you’ll ever meet, and some of the strongest people you’ll meet.
“When somebody says, ‘W’re gonna do such and so,’ you say, ‘OK, that’s just talk.’ But when you do it, that’s when it means something in Detroit. That’s that working town ethic. It’s a put up or shut up town.” THEO PARRISH
In 1987, a group of street artists in Detroit created posters featuring photographs of various disintegrating downtown structures and attached them to each of the buildings with the caption Demolished by Neglect. Once a glorious metropolis held aloft by a thriving American automotive industry, by the 70s Detroit was in terminal decline; the departure of Motown in ’72 was, to many, a symbol of the impending degneration. Yet, out of the empty boulevards and tangle of desolate freeways emerged musicians whose influence resonates just as strongly today as it did twenty years ago, musicians who epitomise our own belief that it’s not the external resources at your disposal that matter, but what you feel inside: imagination, creativity, determination.
More on Detroit and the pioneers of techno will follow. In the meantime, here’s a great video following Theo Parrish, who moved to Detroit in ’94, around the city with his beloved field recorder.
As the digital age makes everything faster, cleaner and more and more perfect, who from time to time doesn’t crave a little imperfection in their lives? A 12” in their hand, not an MP3 on their pod; the unpredictability of a Moog, rather than the coldness of digital uniformity; or just the crackle of a film reel rather than clips viewed on a handheld screen?
Digital’s good. Analog’s good. Combine the two, and what do you get? Lots of things actually, among them the various creations of 45 iPod, an inventive little company that transforms old vinyl and cassettes into protective cases for both Classic and Nano iPods. The inspiration came from the realisation that the centre hole on a record matches the dimensions of the Classic touchwheel exactly, and so old vinyl is thus contorted into the shape of an iPod holder, with the centre hole framing the wheel exactly. They do a similar thing with old cassette tapes for the Nano. It’s analog meets digital in the truest sense.
The list of available cassettes and records to choose from is limited - the modest collection includes such luminaries as Pink Floyd, Depeche Mode, Culture Club and Stevie Wonder, to name but a few - so the next step, surely, would be to allow people to send in a record to be reborn as a case. But then, who would be willing to part with those treasured twelves in the first place? Oh the conundrum: to have it spinning on your 1210 or adorning your own digital library?
Stevie Wonder it is then...
Digital’s good. Analog’s good. Combine the two, and what do you get? Lots of things actually, among them the various creations of 45 iPod, an inventive little company that transforms old vinyl and cassettes into protective cases for both Classic and Nano iPods. The inspiration came from the realisation that the centre hole on a record matches the dimensions of the Classic touchwheel exactly, and so old vinyl is thus contorted into the shape of an iPod holder, with the centre hole framing the wheel exactly. They do a similar thing with old cassette tapes for the Nano. It’s analog meets digital in the truest sense.
The list of available cassettes and records to choose from is limited - the modest collection includes such luminaries as Pink Floyd, Depeche Mode, Culture Club and Stevie Wonder, to name but a few - so the next step, surely, would be to allow people to send in a record to be reborn as a case. But then, who would be willing to part with those treasured twelves in the first place? Oh the conundrum: to have it spinning on your 1210 or adorning your own digital library?
Stevie Wonder it is then...
Just the other day I came across a copy of Colors magazine. I’d never seen it before. Strange, because it was launched in 1991, and has been published quarterly in multiple languages ever since. Shame on me. Anyway, each issue is dedicated to a particular subject. It was Colors that was responsible for famously doctoring the face of the Queen to look like a black woman in its issue on race in 1993, and it was Colors that caused uproar when an issue on AIDS discussed the disease in the kind of blunt and forthright manner that no one else dared adopt; a picture of US president Ronald Reagan engineered to look like an emaciated AIDS sufferer reflected their approach.
The latest issue is about money. As usual, a new micro site has been constructed online to introduce readers to the subject. Go to www.colorsmagazine.com, (make sure you do) and you’ll be presented with some graphic copy on money and how it forms the subject of this month’s magazine. Of course, they don’t tackle the issue of money as you might expect them to. Instead, they had some bank notes analysed to see what substance they could find. Some you’d expect, and some you wouldn’t, but each discovery corresponds to a different section in the issue, and the result represents a crazy reinterpretation of finance today. It's clear from issues both present and past that whoever conceived the original concept for Colors was either a) dreaming, or b) an impossibly imaginative, creative and determined individual.
The beauty of Colors is that it’s a socially conscious publication dedicated to the world. Sounds a little inflated, no? Yep, but it succeeds by looking at things in an entirely different way to everyone else: by harnessing creativity. Issues that bore us to death on a day to day basis are here reinterpreted and presented in a way that captivates the mind. Hell, just the idea of dedicating each issue to a different topic had me sold. Colors takes a simple idea - dedicating each volume to one subject - and uses it to discuss and raise awareness of globally prevalent issues impacting on the world around us. And, as Reagan and the Queen have shown, they aren’t afraid to put their necks on the line.
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Last month, Colors was dedicated to the blind and visually impaired. Why? Because there are over 40 million blind people in the world. That’s a huge number. Again, it’s about finding a way to talk about things that we’d all rather not talk about. The magazine was packaged in a braille front cover and printed in black and white from beginning to end: Colors without colour, if you will. It also came with a CD containing all content recounted in audio in four different languages, inspirational stories of people who have made something of their lives despite visual impairment. People like Tcha Limberger, the blind violinist who’s short piece moved me to the point that I promise (to try) to never moan about a lack of resource ever again, because we have everything we need. An extract from Tcha’s piece makes the point, I think. Look out for future issues...
“I was born blind and, like my brother, premature. My parents used to give him lots of attention so I became independent. My mother insisted that I study in a normal school. I took up violin when I was 17. It’s a ruthless instrument. It either sounds right or totally wrong. I am constantly researching. I experiment. I try different instruments and styles of music. What matters is to share, to meet other people. I’d like my music to be therapeutic. If I’m not able to find solutions for other people’s problems, my role is to recharge them so they feel inspired to continue in whatever they must do.
“My body is an instrument that allows my soul to express itself. I try to play authentic music with a personal touch. Jazz is music to be worked on. One always has to try to improve his knowledge and skill. I am in a perpetual self-construction process, I don’t want to stop and tell myself I have achieved something. I don’t have a specific goal. I only want to let my music grow. Some people say, “Tcha doesn’t play music, he is music.
“Being blind makes it easier for me to concentrate. I don’t know what kind of musician I am. I play the music I like and that’s it. If I were told that I could recover my eyesight, I would refuse. Learning to see would be too complicated. I don’t feel like I’m missing something.”
