On Music #2 Enya

On Music #2 Enya 

The music of Enya reaches for the earthly divine. Her vocal harmonies and soundscapes conjure natural paysages in their intensity and ephemerality. Hailing from a hamlet in quaint rural north-western Ireland, she honed an atmospheric sound informed by her natural surroundings and Gaelic heritage that would be known globally. While her music is best known as a unifier of late 20th-century New Age and Pop music, she combined elements of Celtic, Christian, classical, and electronic music throughout her career. 

An emphasis on Celtic folk music was shown in her brief membership of her siblings' band Clannad, the elements of electronic and New-age music would become more apparent once she released her first solo album, The Celts, a soundtrack album to a documentary by the same name. The album emphasizes the atmospheric, misty, and mythic. But many of the pieces had a regality to them (The Celts, March of the Celts), like the listener was witnessing the procession of ancient Celtic royalty. Singing in Gaelic and English, Enya's vocals seemed to transfer a memory of a lost world.

It is her second album Watermark, that best exemplifies the ephemeral and meditative sound that Enya would be known for. In this album, 2 of Enya’s most important themes become truly apparent: the progression of time and the voyage. These themes further coalesce to demonstrate the principal theme found in her work: lost worlds. 

The album begins with Watermark, a damp piano instrumental that ambles between ascending and descending progressions circularly, transporting listeners to a state of chronic meditation as drops of rain descend down window panes. The instrumental songs, similarly, feel like subtle interludes that induce a feeling of the passing of time. Miss Clare Remembers employs a similar piano melody with a modulation of tempo, while the jittery but compressed River bounces and shimmers repetitively to filtered piano tunes and synths that attempt to sparkle as if music is being played underneath a magical stream.

While Enya's songs consistently demonstrate an ethereality, they still have antecedents in the natural world, most notably through their imagery of oceans and shores.

On Your Shore maintains the contemplative distance that would be present in many of her songs. The shore on which she finds herself is a mixture of solace, anxiety, and celestial comfort as she invites the listener to reconnect with a dream of childhood wonder. These distant shores that Enya contemplates become other oceans of consciousness, a new world, the world of lovers, unknown worlds, and lost worlds. In Exile, a mixture of melancholy, solace, and contemplation is similarly captured. This sadness is not soul-crushing, it is both a dream-like contemplation of love while remaining a grounded song. Evening Falls... conjures the requiem of a wandering spirit through ghostly ambient pads, vocal layers, and the subtle inclusion of an organ. A similarly haunting song Na Laetha Geal M'oige has Enya singing in Gaelic with the composure and breath of a still ocean.  

However, this contemplative distance is not the only mood of Watermark. Cursum Perficio employs a more immediate tone and soon progresses to an almost tribalistic fervor. In Latin, Enya repeats the mantra "Curusum Perficio" which translates into "my journey ends here" a reference to the tile on Marlyin Monroe's home in which she was found dead. While the mantra is repeated, it sounds far from neurotic or insane, it sounds assured, like an astute sorcerous casting a spell aware of its irreversibility. A ritualistic rebirth is enacted. 

Storms in Africa similarly employs immediacy, but it is one of travel. It is one of the many songs that transports listeners to both a metaphysical state (change/becoming) and also a physical space, as listeners are sent gliding through the plains of Africa. The slow build-up and inclusion of drums marks an approach. The wideness of the plains of Africa is felt. Enya sings Gaelic. The drums flirt with tribal but still remain linear. The song's second part (Pt.2) is more immediate, marked by lightning with less build-up, and is sung in English. 

Songs such as Longships conjure images of nature in their breadth and vigor. The strength and consistency of the waves that crash upon the Irish cliffs and exemplified by the the rhythmic drums and the looping piano. Meanwhile, Enya's voice rises from below like a priestess summoning the strength of the wind and tides to bid sail to massive Viking ships. This commanding spirit of nature would remain in later songs. 

Orinoco Flow, the best-known song and the closest to be classified as pop employs a jittering procession of string chords as well as a bouncing piano melody. The listener is transported to foreign lands. She sings"From Bissau to Palau, in the shade of Avalon/From Fiji to Tyree and the Isles of Ebony/From Peru to Cebu, hear the power of Babylon/From Bali to Cali, far beneath the Coral Sea"

The exotic and venerable lands which she recalls evoke an ancient and untouched power in nature. The bright Caribbean, the mythical Avalon, and the oases of the Sahara all merge into an emotion of reverence before nature. 

Her 3rd album Shepherd Moons forgoes much of the earthliness of her previous albums in favor of a celestial odyssy. It is the stars and water that are recruited as nature's messengers. Aquatic and translucent synths and pads layer the background, approaching haunting but ultimately consoling.

The focus is more deliberately on her contemplative and ethereal compositions. The more apparent influence of Christian hymns lends well to this choice. How Can I Keep From Singing (originally a 19th-century Christian hymn of uncertain origin) is both moving and consoling. The more refined post-production on Enya's vocals allows vocal harmonies to stretch and jump. The vocals on Book of Days cycle between steadfast and pirouetting capturing the euphoric feeling of unfettered flight. For better or worse the album is more cohesive and focused than Watermark.

As with many artists language within Enya's songs is not solely for lyrics. The voice is used as an instrument of thought, but in few is it as apparent as Enya. It is for this reason that the many languages that Enya employs do not deter from her music. However language is not used facetiously, the Gaelic and Elvish which Enya employs add yet another layer to vocals; that of a lost world captured in language. 

Her songs become associated with a lost world integrating itself into the modern, not only evident in her work on Celts but also through her association with The Lord of the Rings having written many songs about the novel most notably May it Be and Lothlórien. Lord of the Rings itself is a fantastical story that concerns the loss of magic within the world, a sentiment that is conjured throughout her music. Her association with the mythical elves (a species that is engaged in self-imposed exile) is no coincidence as it draws upon a sentiment of ancient power and wisdom in the face of modernity, a theme relayed throughout Celtic culture. 

Par rapport au Benjamin Franklin et l'indépendance des États-Unis

 Par rapport au Benjamin Franklin et l'indépendance des États-Unis

Benjamin Franklin n'était pas un revolutionaire tellement véhément en concernant l'indépendance des treize colonies. Au contraire, Franklin a essayé de rétablir des relations positives avec les colonies et la Grande-Bretagne. Au début, l'un des principaux problèmes pour Franklin par rapport aux treize colonies était lié aux colonies propriétaires, en particulier la colonie de Pennsylvanie, où Franklin a vécu une grande partie de sa vie. Ces désaccords sur la fiscalité se sont transformés en problèmes plus larges concernant les colonies. Franklin aurait souhaité que les colonies soient unifiées et sous le contrôle de la couronne anglaise, mais avec la représentation. Lorsque plusieurs taux et régulations d'échange ont été imposés sur les colonies, Franklin, en tant qu'imprimeur qui a toujours exalté les ouvriers, était sympathique aux colonies. Il a décrié ces taux comme injustes en l'absence de représentation. Il etait tristé lorsqu'il vit que les colonies commençaient à se séparer.

Benjamin Franklin was not as vehement regarding the independence of the Thirteen Colonies. Rather, Franklin tried to reestablish positive relations with the colonies and Britain. Early on, one of the main problems for Franklin in relation to the Thirteen Colonies had to do with the proprietary colonies, particularly the colony of Pennsylvania, where Franklin lived much of his life. These disagreements over taxation grew into broader issues regarding the colonies. Franklin would have liked the colonies to be unified and under the control of the English crown, but with representation. When several rates and regulations of exchange were imposed on the colonies, Franklin, as a printer who always exalted workers, was sympathetic to the colonies. He decried these rates as unfair in the absence of representation. He was saddened when he saw that the colonies were beginning to separate.

On Music #1 Kyuss

On Music #1: Kyuss 

Kyuss was a stoner rock/metal band from the early 90s based in Palm Desert California. Initially believing themselves to be a punk band, the group soon embarked on a sound influenced by their arid surroundings and the beer-soaked, sensuality of the stoned-out high schoolers. They became synonymous with the music scene of Palm Desert in the 90s. After disbanding in 1995, members went on to various other bands (Queens of the Stone Age, Fu Manchu, Screaming Trees). 

Their second album is a masterpiece, and their third is a close second. Wretch, their first album is not as good (though underrated with fiery more punky/thrashy tracks such as Love Has Passed Me By, Katzenjammer, I’m Not, and the cathartic Son of a Bitch) but demonstrated a proximity to the explosive gold of their 2nd album. Their fourth and final album is their worst and unsurprisingly so, considering the band had significant internal issues which stifled creativity and integral drummer Brant Bjork had left the band at this point. For this reason, I will focus my adoration on their second and third records: Blues for the New Sun and Welcome to Sky Valley

Blues for the New Sun is a towering album in the stoner rock/metal scene. The album is an ode to flame. This is a world of spacey infernos, listeners are transported through space, but it is not the cold and hollow space of other more doomy metal acts, this is a world in which the Sun engulfs the Earth, where the universe overheats, aptly envisioned in the third song Molten Universe. The opening song Thumb paints a conflated Promethean myth in which vocalist Garcia forcefully declares “You’ve been burned by my lighter”. The gift of flame is given with no consideration, and it is humans who will endure the consequences. 

The nihilistic Thong Song and existential Freedom Run question of how significant humanity is in this conflagration. But Garcia’s vocals and lyrics do not express a numbing depression to this reflection, they demonstrate an acceptance in merging humanity with flame; an immanent immolation. “Walked million miles of desert sun/To grasp the chance that I’ll be gone/Be one with you, yeah.” Garcia sings in Freedom Run. This destructive and metamorphizing fire is manifested absolutely in every aspect of the music: Garcia’s scorched voice, the absolute lyrics, Oliveri’s crushing bass, Homme’s distorted and evolving guitars, Bjork’s bone-breaking and tribal drums and sizzling cymbals. Homme’s guitars, Oliveri’s bass and Bjork's drums are truly the crown jewel of the album as they capture the perfect blend of punch and depth with bluesy grooves and psychedelic embellishments into a rumbling inferno.

There is no contradiction or dishonesty in Blues for the New Sun. It is a singular ontology of immolation, whether slow burn or a blaze. The dynamic journey of 50 Million Year Trip (Downside Up) feels like the blistering progression of wildfire, while Apothecaires’ Weight feels like a weed-induced catatonia. There is something very immobile about the song, as if a dim flame is struggling to maintain itself. 

Human beings just like everything flames destroy are equated to materialistic objects, unfit to stop the destructive progression. “Everyone seems to be singing for Satan/Guess I will too” Garcia laconically sings in the smoldering Writhe like a teenage nihilist. The accelerative destruction of flame and the world itself is most poignantly shown in the thrashy Green Machine in which the lyrics acknowledge that the band is both a component of a system and its downfall. Baudrillardesque.

The sore thumb of the album, Capsized, is the most ominous song, the shortest (if we don’t count the ridiculous 4-second Yeah), and arguably the most spiritual. At 55 seconds long, the drumless and vocal-less acoustic riff feels out of place and seems to demonstrate an eerie disconnection from reality, as if humanity is approaching a point of no return, forgetting a previous life. As the riff plays, another acoustic melody shimmers in the background, like a last attempt by angelic luminaries to converse between the firmament.

The album then transitions to the fiery and physical Allen’s Wrench, yelling that all we get is an Allen’s Wrench. Garcia’s vocals might as well emit fire.

Mondo Generator is the climax of the album’s philosophy. The song is the only one to feature vocals from bassist Nick Oliveri, but the obscure and neurotic vocals played through a distorted and echoing guitar amp seem inhuman. It is difficult to confirm any concrete lyrics in this devouring inferno. The song almost becomes impressionistic in this respect. Is this even a human singing, or is it just the flame? Is this a human spirit trapped inside a vortex of flame grasping at any attempt to not be fully devoured by the inferno, or if this is already a world of only fire? Only flames protrude as the blazing maelstrom enlarges. 

Welcome to Sky Valley is less an ode to infernos and humanity's relationship with fire, rather it is more of a meditation on the wild and grand Californian wilderness. These reflections are shown in the existential and ominous backdrop of the music, as well as the much wider and open recording. It often sounds as if the band is playing outside. There is distance.

From the beginning, it is known that the fiery nature of their magnum opus remains, but now more of an emphasis is made on atmospheric and drawn-out compositions. The instrumental Asteroid paints an ominous star watcher, who in the barren California desert comes to the helpless realization that eventually an asteroid will destroy Earth. The twangy Space Cadet invokes a sultry psychedelic mirage where Garcia sings “Dripped in sun, hands in sand, earth as it cleanses … but the world never comes”. Humans remain paralyzed, while Nature weaves her web. The album then changes to the charging, ardent humanity of the blistering Odyssey, invoking Greek myth in the American wild. A sonic journey worthy of its name.

It must be addressed that Garcia’s vocals are significantly second fiddle on this album. Perhaps due to this mixing or the smoky torture that they endured from the band’s last record. Whitewater is a prime example of Garcia’s vocals occupying the position as more of an embellishment to the mayhem of Homme and Reeder’s guitars and Bjork’s furious drums. The song is the band’s last final war charge, of natural carnage. Garcia’s voice struggles to stay afloat as the Whitewater rapids roar and roar as the listener is left to survive her currents through all her tumults and lulls.