My Best Tunes

The last thing you might expect to hear at a lunchtime classical concert is a political protest. But at the Wigmore Hall this week, that is precisely what the audience, who had been looking forward to a civilised programme of Mozart’s String Quartet in D K575 and Ravel’s String Quartet in F, experienced.

The last time we saw Peter Gabriel, he was 50ft in the air, scuttling upside-down in a harness around a circular track, having shortly before bowled about Wembley Arena inside a giant see-through Zorb ball. So it’s hard not to feel a tad short-changed to find his latest concerts involve the singer, dressed in monkishly nondescript black and grey, just standing there on stage, singing. OK, so he has a massive orchestra behind him, but all the same…

The last thing you might expect to hear at a lunchtime classical concert is a political protest. But at the Wigmore Hall this week, that is precisely what the audience, who had been looking forward to a civilised programme of Mozart’s String Quartet in D K575 and Ravel’s String Quartet in F, experienced.

The last time we saw Peter Gabriel, he was 50ft in the air, scuttling upside-down in a harness around a circular track, having shortly before bowled about Wembley Arena inside a giant see-through Zorb ball. So it’s hard not to feel a tad short-changed to find his latest concerts involve the singer, dressed in monkishly nondescript black and grey, just standing there on stage, singing. OK, so he has a massive orchestra behind him, but all the same…

Paloma Faith descends, waving ochre ostrich-feather fans as celestial clouds light up behind her, to a chorus of “aahs” from her backing singers, like some heavenly burlesque deity. Until, that is, you notice her head-dress: an elaborate, ridiculous ensemble of sequined fruit. She’s a 2010 version of Carmen Miranda, a cabaret performer for the Gaga generation (the fruit tops off towering scarlet heels and a canary-yellow catsuit).

Singer Ricky Martin has told his fans he is gay, describing himself as a “fortunate homosexual man”.

Singer Ricky Martin has told his fans he is gay, describing himself as a “fortunate homosexual man”.

The Sony bloggie is the official camera partner of Austria-based music festival Snowbombing 2010, which has a line-up including Fatboy Slim, Editors, The Enemy and Friendly Fires. Thanks to Sony, one lucky reader has the chance to win one of these fabulous cameras ahead of the winter festival, which takes place in Mayrhofen between 5th -10 th April.

All the news that’s fit to link

Fan loses patience, writes open letter to “the dick formerly known as Prince”
(Via The Musictionary )

Ne-Yo in Miami. On a Segway.
(Via Celebuzz)

Bone Thugs-n-Harmony rapper arrested 12 years after charges relating to a firearm were filed
(Via CMU)

Have there been any great albums out this year, yet?
(Via DiS)

New video for MGMT’s Flash Delirium features soldiers, rich-looking old people and a weird-looking throat
(Via whoismgmt.com)

And, probably shot on a smaller budget than MGMT, the new video for the Dum Dum Girls’ Jail La La
(Via Gorilla Vs Bear)

Her new album, I Speak Because I Can, proves that Laura Marling is a songwriter who deserves comparison to the greats

Laura Marling’s new album, I Speak Because I Can, is a moving response to her break-up with Noah and the Whale’s frontman, Charlie Fink. It recalls Joanna Newsom’s excellent recent LP, Have One On Me, which has had fans looking for clues in her lyrics to the demise of her relationship with Bill Callahan. However, both albums are more than diary entries set to music. The songs are too good for that.

I Speak Because I Can could have gone wrong. It could have been a bleakly pale and introverted take on lost love. Yet it runs much like Bob Dylan’s Blood On the Tracks. Marling explores a broken relationship with blind rage and biting power, yet still manages to leave the listener with hope and salvation. In capturing a sense of love won and lost, and independence gained and fought for, Marling has scored an extraordinary songwriting achievement.

The album sees Marling developing a sound that is distinctly non-twee (listen to the Led Zeppelin-like title track or Devil’s Spoke). Her voice is deceptively huge – it gives the impression of unknowable, boundless territory without sounding loud or exerted. The sound can be unnerving and is not easily assimilated into a pop record. Marling is far from the Larkin-loving teen of her debut, Alas I Cannot Swim.

It’s pleasing to see a truly great British artist gaining popularity. I usually despise awards shows, but when Marling’s album, Alas I Cannot Swim, was nominated for the Mercury prize, I was glad that her genuine talent (in a sea of Lily Allen clones) was acknowledged.

It’s tempting to draw parallels between Marling and other figures of the alt-folk resurgence; Will Oldham, say, or Bon Iver. But if we’re honest, I Speak Because I Can plays more like a modern version of Joni Mitchell’s Court and Spark. It has a classic feel. And Marling deserves comparison to the greats.

I Speak Because I Can sounds like an intimate conversation between performer and listener. When it’s finished, you’ll feel as though you’ve just come away from a deeply involving and curious encounter with a stranger. It’s an experience that will stay with you for a long time to come, and one that you’ll want to revisit frequently.