Some Connections Between Miles and Bjork

When I bought my tickets to see Bjork more than a month ago, I had to settle for a “side view”; the closest center seats were sold out, and I wasn`t going to take a risk buying center seats that could for all I know be at the far back of the arena. Although I had never been to the Nippon Budokan before, I had definitely heard about the many large tours that had passed through and the slew of albums named “Live at Budokan” or simply “at Budokan”. This was going to be vastly different from any club experience I had, so after mulling it over, I decided a side view was better than no view - the fact the person seated next to me was using binoculars not withstanding. But the side view turned out to be not such a bad choice after all. It provided a clear view of her band and the rest of the stage including the percussion and assorted electronics.

Not surprisingly though this perspective of the stage shifted a lot of my focus away from Bjork and directed it to the rest of her group. And with this redirected perspective, I had an epiphany. With so much of her focus in the past few years on gathering such a wide array of talented musicians and using their ideas to support her music, she`s beginning to come off like Miles Davis. For so much of his career, Miles would gather and work with some of the best jazz musicians such as Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea, John Coltrane, Dave Holland, and Wayne Shorter, uniting them under his well-established and respected name. In fact, for many of Shorter`s original tunes, the recordings that are most celebrated are those with Miles Davis. With many of these musicians, Miles claimed in the '70s that he created the best rock band in existence. His statement not only reflects the talent of his group, but also the variety of new electric instruments his band was playing that were still taboo in jazz circles. In a similar vein, Bjork has gathered her own cast of talent including Matmos, Konono No.1, Timbaland, Rahzel, Mike Patton, and Mark Bell. In addition to a creative combination of musicians, Bjork always manages to assemble a surprising if not impressive orchestration ranging from the strings and beats of the Homogenic era to her current use of some cutting-edge electronic instruments including the Reactable, which isn't even in commercial production yet.

Another link between Bjork and Miles Davis is how they treat their own melodies in live performances. One thing I`m always astounded by when I listen to The Complete Concert 1964: My Funny Valentine & Four More is that the melodies of what should be instantly recognizable songs are carefully obscured by a very free interpretation of the melody`s original shape. The band provides an incredibly solid foundation, making something like “All Blues” unmistakable, but when the melody is the defining feature on “My Funny Valentine” or “Stella by Starlight” Miles twists it around to create something almost entirely different. Bjork`s band too was solid, providing her with the platform necessary to do something similar. On Friday, Bjork constantly pushed the tempo, staying ahead of the beat or not holding out a note and skipping a beat or two. This rendered her singing style more speech-like and turned lyrical melodies from Hyperballad into something she spoke almost directly to the audience seated in folding chairs on the floor in front of her. Lately I've been interested in how vocals are bent rhythmically or placed slightly off of the beat to create tension or the directness of speech. Basically I like it when singers emote by manipulating rhythms and tempos.

Though it doesn't really demonstrate the singing style I was talking about, this clip of All is Full of Love gives you an impression of what the show was like.



And here's that recording of All Blues I was talking about. With Miles playing the head solo, he's free to interpret the melody without risking unexpected harmonic clashes.

Can Never Say No to a Music Festival

Two weekends ago I made my way down to Kiryu Music Fronts (Japanese site, sorry), the annual music festival in my town, where local performers get to fill all the towns clubs at the same time, and I get to go to any of those clubs for the low price of ¥1000 ($8.75). It's kind of like SXSW if it were held in a small Japanese city and lacked all the overwhelming hype and crowds of Austin in March. In actuality though, the clubs this year were pretty empty compared to last. First of all, the festival last year was a whole weekend long, from Friday night to Sunday night; this year was only a Sunday night. Also the whatever crowd made it out to the festival were more than likely spread thinner than last year after the organizers expanded the number of participating clubs from four to seven.

The event itself aside, watching these Japanese bands in succession hammered home a point about Japanese culture that I have noticed in numerous other situations. Japan really is an incredibly paternalistic society. The dominance of males in music in the U.S. is apparent by how few women there are in bands. Or if there are women in bands, they're only singing and never touch an instrument. Even considering these facts, Japan keeps its women musicians at still farther flung fringes of musical society.

The group I liked the most, Epopsan, had four members: one guitarist (male), one singer/dancer (female), one keyboardist/producer/singer named Ogiwara (male), and one keyboardist/singer (female) who by the way was visibly pregnant. First of all, their music was electronic pop: they used a lot of melodies and thick, clean textures, but wouldn't shy away from letting a beat or loop run on its own for half a minute. Most of the music was prepared ahead of time and it seemed that it was played from and controlled by a production unit. So naturally, the person who came across as having the most power was Ogiwara, who controlled the prepared loops. In terms of traditional musicianship, the guitarist (who stood in a back corner of the stage while the two women flanked their Ogiwara in a line of three across the front of the stage) commanded the most respect. The pregnant keyboardist seemed to only play token hooks and some atmospheric parts, so she came across as number three in the band member hierarchy. And the last woman who danced and sung came in at number four.

The vocals didn't figure into the equation very significantly. However, that's where it starts to get interesting. Not only were all three of the singers underwhelming, but the women sung with thin, girly, and adolescent voices. So that's what clinched their bottom spots in ranking the visible importance of each band member. Their use of thin and weak voices is consistent with how Japanese women speak when in public, especially of those who work in service industries. Besides reinforcing their overall subservient role in society, this shrill voice is simply irritating.

But even though the girls of Epopsan used thin, weak voices, at least they sang in tune. The group that played before them - I don't remember the name, and I won't ever regret forgetting - had a pair of women in their 20s fronting a rhythm section of men. They not only used adolescent voices, but they couldn't stay in tune. There were in fact times when I cringed at notes that were absurdly flat.

Although some people worry about the role that women play in popular music in the U.S., only singing and having no role in the rest of the band's work of playing instruments, recording, and lugging around instruments, the situation in Japan is much worse considering that singing, the one thing they are expected to do, they are expected to do in a way that strips them of the power they're given when they stand at the front of the stage. Though I must say I do respect the keyboardist for performing and even dancing a little while pregnant.

Here are some videos of Epopsan.