Brilliant production from Kanye West on this one. Lots of little surprises, like at 1:31 where we ALMOST got a bit of an old-school vibe, but then fell right back into that weighty beat. I absolutely love this track, give it a listen:
Monday, 29 April 2013
Sunday, 28 April 2013
Up this green woodland-ride let’s softly rove,
And list the nightingale - she dwells just here.
Hush ! let the wood-gate softly clap, for fear
The noise might drive her from her home of love ;
For here I’ve heard her many a merry year -
At morn, at eve, nay, all the live-long day,
As though she lived on song. This very spot,
Just where that old-man’s-beard all wildly trails
Rude arbours o’er the road, and stops the way -
And where that child its blue-bell flowers hath got,
Laughing and creeping through the mossy rails -
There have I hunted like a very boy,
Creeping on hands and knees through matted thorn
To find her nest, and see her feed her young.
And vainly did I many hours employ :
All seemed as hidden as a thought unborn.
And where those crimping fern-leaves ramp among
The hazel’s under boughs, I’ve nestled down,
And watched her while she sung ; and her renown
Hath made me marvel that so famed a bird
Should have no better dress than russet brown.
Her wings would tremble in her ecstasy,
And feathers stand on end, as ’twere with joy,
And mouth wide open to release her heart
Of its out-sobbing songs. The happiest part
Of summer’s fame she shared, for so to me
Did happy fancies shapen her employ ;
But if I touched a bush, or scarcely stirred,
All in a moment stopt. I watched in vain :
The timid bird had left the hazel bush,
And at a distance hid to sing again.
Lost in a wilderness of listening leaves,
Rich Ecstasy would pour its luscious strain,
Till envy spurred the emulating thrush
To start less wild and scarce inferior songs ;
For while of half the year Care him bereaves,
To damp the ardour of his speckled breast ;
The nightingale to summer’s life belongs,
And naked trees, and winter’s nipping wrongs,
Are strangers to her music and her rest.
Her joys are evergreen, her world is wide -
Hark! there she is as usual - let’s be hush -
For in this black-thorn clump, if rightly guest,
Her curious house is hidden. Part aside
These hazel branches in a gentle way,
And stoop right cautious ’neath the rustling boughs,
For we will have another search to day,
And hunt this fern-strewn thorn-clump round and round ;
And where this reeded wood-grass idly bows,
We’ll wade right through, it is a likely nook :
In such like spots, and often on the ground,
They’ll build, where rude boys never think to look -
Aye, as I live ! her secret nest is here,
Upon this white-thorn stump ! I’ve searched about
For hours in vain. There! put that bramble by -
Nay, trample on its branches and get near.
How subtle is the bird ! she started out,
And raised a plaintive note of danger nigh,
Ere we were past the brambles ; and now, near
Her nest, she sudden stops - as choking fear,
That might betray her home. So even now
We’ll leave it as we found it : safety’s guard
Of pathless solitudes shall keep it still.
See there! she’s sitting on the old oak bough,
Mute in her fears ; our presence doth retard
Her joys, and doubt turns every rapture chill.
Sing on, sweet bird! may no worse hap befall
Thy visions, than the fear that now deceives.
We will not plunder music of its dower,
Nor turn this spot of happiness to thrall ;
For melody seems hid in every flower,
That blossoms near thy home. These harebells all
Seem bowing with the beautiful in song ;
And gaping cuckoo-flower, with spotted leaves,
Seems blushing of the singing it has heard.
How curious is the nest ; no other bird
Uses such loose materials, or weaves
Its dwelling in such spots : dead oaken leaves
Are placed without, and velvet moss within,
And little scraps of grass, and, scant and spare,
What scarcely seem materials, down and hair ;
For from men’s haunts she nothing seems to win.
Yet Nature is the builder, and contrives
Homes for her children’s comfort, even here ;
Where Solitude’s disciples spend their lives
Unseen, save when a wanderer passes near
That loves such pleasant places. Deep adown,
The nest is made a hermit’s mossy cell.
Snug lie her curious eggs in number five,
Of deadened green, or rather olive brown ;
And the old prickly thorn-bush guards them well.
So here we’ll leave them, still unknown to wrong,
As the old woodland’s legacy of song.
Friday, 26 April 2013
This woman has everything - She's elegant, she's raw, she's got a beautiful voice, she's an immensely skilled musician, a creative song-writer with an acute ear for harmony and, all in all, capable of producing performances that are totally inspiring. The set at San Sebastian that I've posted below is definitely one of these, and I've stuck 'Cinnamon Tree' under that because it's a personal favourite. Have a listen! PLEEEASE?
Friday, 19 April 2013
An incredible video for the song 'Ingenue' by Atoms For Peace, proving that Thom Yorke is still ageing like a fine wine. Nay, but the finest. He exhibits here more hilarious, yet completely mesmerising Thom Yorke routines, continuing the trend that begun with the video for 'Lotus Flower', joined this time by the beautiful Japanese dancer Fukiko Takase. The brilliance of the video allies perfectly that of the song, which is for me the best on the album.
Wednesday, 17 April 2013
Wednesday, 10 April 2013
'Take Turns' is a chilled, slightly jazzy and very RnB sounding track off Eliphino's earlier album 'Out of Phase', which was released back in 2007. This great tune is entirely different to many of the producer's more popular house-y creations and anything I'd previously heard from him, namely the catchy, bass-driven 'More Than Me' and 'You'll Know', both of which I've probably shared before on the blog. What's more, from what I've gathered, he wrote 'Take Turns' when he was only 17?! Why are there so many electronic artists around these days who are churning out gold as soon as they hit puberty? Bondax, I'm looking at you.
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
I cannot describe how excited I was for this album... I was poised on iTunes at 23:59 on the night before its release with my debit card details. I can describe EVEN LESS how much it has overshot my expectations. The sheer variation that James Blake has been capable of since he first came on the scene is amazing to me. Any piano-playing, song-writing, lyric-warbling, genius-producing man who can perfect an acoustic cover of Joni Mitchell's 'A Case Of You' while making a Kelis sample sound dark and riveting goes down immediately in my good books.
Having become immediately obsessed with 'I Am Sold' (I could probably listen to the 3 seconds of him singing 'and we lay nocturnal' for at least a week straight, even if the rest of song wasn't equally as gorgeous), I did end up neglecting some of the album's other gems for a couple of days. But one thing I couldn't ignore was 'Take A Fall For Me', featuring verses by RZA of Wu-Tang Clan (some would say RZA aka Wu-Tang Clan.) "RZA on a James Blake song?!" (I hear you cry) "Surely RZA sticks out like a sore thumb?" Ah but he doesn't, my friends. He blends like a tropical fruit smoothie and the result is the sweet, sweet tones of Eden.
'I heard through the grapevine that great love, it takes time
Sex shapes the body, truth shapes the mind'