The crowded bus drove up the steep mountain road, its diesel engine busily panting out fumes. In the back a traveler named Gary sat, his head leaning against the window. With his eyes half-closed, he was day-dreaming and thoughtfully absorbing the unfamiliar scenery outside. Three girls next to him were chattering energetically in their own language. They were talking so quickly that he could not understand what they were saying. But Gary was happy. He had finally escaped the smothering comfort zone of the capital city overrun by boisterous tourists. Besides, not being forced to comprehend every conversation around him made the long ride peaceful and relaxing.

One of the girls reached into a backpack and pulled out a battery-powered radio. She turned the switch and adjusted the volume. Immediately, the back of the bus was filled with loud music. It was slightly static but clearly recognizable as the worse American pop song Gary had ever heard. Gary curled into the fetal position and silently howled in agony.

Over the next few hours, poor Gary valiantly tried to ignore the words and music buzzing in his ears. He fiercely kicked himself because he had forgotten to bring ear plugs. When the batteries in the girl's radio finally ran out after eight hours, Gary almost cried with happiness...

Sure, pop music from the US isn't all that bad. But, it's unfortunate that most mainstream music around the world is dominated by American artists, especially manufactured artists that aren't exactly too talented or original.

Well, to help the situation, here are some good songs by international artists. Since the songs are international, most of the lyrics aren't in English. But that adds a certain je ne sais quoi that makes them even better. Yes? Claro que si!

Brasilian
Bebel Gilberto - Aganjú
Bebel Gilberto - Um Segundo
João Gilberto - La Garota de Ipanema
MC Marcinho - Rap Glamourosa
Sergio Mendes - Berimbau/Consolacao
Sergio Mendes - Magalenha
Sergio Mendes - Mas Que Nada ft. Black Eyed Peas
Seu Jorge - Carolina
Seu Jorge - Convite para Vida
Vanessa da Mata - Ai ai ai...
Vanessa da Mata - Não Me Deixe Só
Wonkavision - O Ímpar Perfeito

Colombian
Sonora Carruseles – Micaela

Danish
Alphabeat - Fascination
Mew - 156

Eire (Irish)
Lasairfhíona - Bímse Féin Ag Iascaireacht
Lasairfhíona - Damhsa na gCoiníní

Español
Antonio Carmona - Ay De Ti
Astrud - El Vertedero De Sâo Paulo
La Buena Vida - En Bicicleta
Mala Rodriguez - Nanai
Mala Rodriguez - Yo Marco El Minuto

Français
Indochine - Electrastar
Indochine - Popstitute

日本 (Japanese)
Puffy AmiYumi - Tokyo I'm On My Way
TM Revolution - Heart of Sword

Русские (Russian)
Glukoza Nostra - Schweine
Катя Чехова - Я робот
Ленинград - Nikogo ne zhalko

Scottish
Julie Fowlis - Hùg Air A' Bhonaid Mhòir

And... if you've got any international song favorites, let me know!

     I saw the King at the NorVa last Friday, I swear. No, not the Burger King, but Elvis. Really, that Elvis, the decadent rap metal pioneer from back in the era when my dad was riding tricycles with Theodore "Leave it to Beaver" Cleaver. Elvis was cleverly disguised as the much younger Jesse Lacey, singer of Brand New. He thought he fooled everyone. That is, everyone who didn't notice him sing the line, "No matter what they say, I am still the King". See, I wasn't fooled!

     On stage, Jesse did act like he was the King. It is true that the band and he are talented, but he maintained an air of superiority that a Hollywood celebrity would have. Understandably, the band has been touring for years and has built a significant, non-corporate fan-base. Relentless touring is stressful for a band to the point that performing loses its charm. Their performance on Friday was evident of this stress in that the performance, while physically energetic, seemed hollow at times.
     The performance focused mainly on their recent album The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me. With the songs on this album, Jesse and the band are caught in a "midlife" crisis. Without getting into a tangential album review, their latest material departs entirely from the raw angst of Your Favorite Weapon and elaborately expands the range of imagery in Déjà Entendu.  The Devil... is complex and mature. While this progression to maturity with the past three albums is logical and demonstrates the diversity and creativity of the band, it also shows their limit. It is difficult to try to be complex and profound while avoiding theatrical arrangements and pretentious lyrics. Brand New began as a raw punk band that is now seeking to achieve timelessness.  Jesse probably wonders now if he will truly be great, like Neil Young, Robert Smith, or Thom Yorke.

     Great lead singers are arrogant but they have earned the right to be. Jesse is still not badass enough to get away with ending the concert with looped variations on an untitled track from their most recent album. It was an anti-climatic ending. I would have rather extended mewithoutYou's short 25-minute set and skipped the Brand New encore.
     Even though Jesse Lacey won't ever be this generation's Bruce Springsteen, the concert was loads of fun. I was two-steppin' the whole time. For those that missed out on the concert as well as those who want to relive the magical moments, here are some highlights from Brand New's set. It was recorded and carefully edited by an anonymous friend of mine. Thanks again, anonymous friend!

- Okay I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don't
- Sic Transit Gloria
- Millstone
- You Won't Know

And two random studio Brand New Songs:
- Mixtape
- Fork And Knife

The two opening bands mewithYou and Thrice put on better shows than Brand New's. I will post highlights from their sets as soon as I get the files.

     The exotic tropical paradise of La Habana in Cuba is preparing for the onslaught of a major hurricane. As the wind gusts in from the bay, two young tourists that are probably American are suspiciously dangling their legs over the seawall. Although the Navy Seal floating invisibly in the water might suspect they are traitors, betraying the free world by looking for a unique cultural experience and high quality cigars, the two are mostly harmless. Even though they are both scruffy-looking, they have gorgeous haircuts. As they sip their mojitos, they argue animatedly:

     Wearing a Velvet Underground T-shirt, Stefan is boasting, "I'm so avant garde, I have an original cassette copy of LL Cool J's first LP."

     "That's nothing. I saw Grandmaster Flash spin records back before I was even born." Kevin grins triumphantly in his black Joy Division T-shirt.

     Stephan throws his worn copy of an obscure Hemingway book at Kevin, "Well, I have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import and a white label of every seminal Detroit techno hit."

     Kevin is too excited to acknowledge the LCD Soundsystem reference. "Come on, don't you remember my parents named me for Kevin Shields?"

     "Who the hell is Kevin Shields?"

     "Oh my gosh, you've just lost major cool points, my friend. He's just the guitarist of My Bloody Valentine, the one who signed my Fender Jazzmaster. How could you forget his name?"

     Stefan hangs his head in shame.

     Since the 1991 release of their second LP Loveless [buy], My Bloody Valentine has not only useful for winning annoying name-dropping arguments, but also for causing reviewers to rave, giving a place for Loveless on many significant Best Albums lists. What at first is confusing about the enthusiastic acclaim for the album is that it seems like a mess, a muddy chaos of heavily-filtered guitar drowning out the indiscernible vocals. The songs are sluggish like water in a muddy pond. The songs often do not progress cleanly or resolve comfortably.

     But just as pond water beneath the microscope reveals intricate, fascinating life, so Loveless unfolds into an immersive world of sound. The album is not a collection of songs; it is more like a painting that requires thoughtful examination to fully appreciate its colors, its textures, and its meaning. One of the differences between music and traditional visual art is unlike a painting which begins as a whole that the eye deconstructs and conceptualizes, an ordinary musical piece usually begins as a sequential order of tones that creates a whole in the form of a melody recognizable by the ear. However, in the hand of musical geniuses such as Kevin Shields on Loveless, music becomes a unified whole more than a melody simply manufactured from the humble building blocks of notes and chords. It becomes timeless, free from the restraints of progression. Loveless transforms these traditional musical building blocks, wrapping guitar chords in lush sustain effects so that the chords swirl together in a synergy fused into a single blazing star set against the background of dreamy vocals by Shields and fellow band-member Bilinda Butcher.

     Regardless of the medium, masterpieces have the ability to captivate their audience. With enough volume and enough patience, Loveless can overwhelm the listener to the point of speechlessness:

(download)
:: Only Shallow ::
:: To Here Knows When ::
:: When You Sleep ::
:: I Only Said ::
:: Blown a Wish ::

     For those who are blissfully irrelevant to the ABC medical "dramedy" Grey's Anatomy and apathetic to its waning wit, Kate Havnevik happens to be the resident musician for the show's soundtrack. Avid followers of the show rave about scenes such as the characters Grey and Shepherd's momentous tryst in the season two finale while Havnevik's exclusively-composed song "Grace" plays in the background. The show has also featured five of her other songs throughout other episodes.

     To avoid pigeonholing Kate Havnevik any further into the background music for one American television show, she is a classically-trained Norwegian musician and singer. A native of Olso, Norway, she currently bases out of the UK. Her enthralling voice may be familiar to fans of Norwegian trip-hop duo Röyksopp since she has done the supporting vocals on two of their songs from The Understanding [buy] including the wistful "Only This Moment" which she co-wrote. She has also collaborated with British producer Guy Sigsworth to do supporting vocals on the stellar song "Someday (I Will Understand)" by the internationally-renowned songstress Britney Spears. Fortunately for her reputation, after much pleading, Kate persuaded Guy Sigsworth to work with her on more worthwhile endeavors with her own voice at the forefront. Not coincidentally, her collaborative pieces with Guy are reminiscent of Björk and Imogen Heap (Frou Frou), who have also worked with Guy Sigsworth.

     Featuring three of Havenik's collaborations with Guy Sigsworth, Melankton [buy] is her debut album, finally released in the States this March. The album swirls in a blend of refined classical pop, and spacey trip-hop. Throughout the album, the dynamic is simultaneously deliberate and delicate. Subtly, the album betrays an underlying chill that is icy but refreshing like this delicious recipe for peach gelato. In an unfortunate endeavor, expansive orchestration offsets this chill with organic accompaniment. Although elegant, this accompaniment borders on being too pervasive, lingering in many conservatively pastoral moments.

     To offset these sluggish arrangements and often nondescript lyrics, Havnevik's hushed vocals fortunately salvage the album, starting with the album's first track, "Unlike Me". A fitting opener, it begins with a pensive verse and steadily builds to a pithy chorus that mourns "There is no time..." The graceful arpeggios of a harp assist in the orchestral accompaniment which is appropriately understated since the song is a collaboration with the previously-mentioned producer Guy Sigsworth. "You Again", another of the Sigsworth-Havnevik collaborations, showcases more of Havnevik's vocals and has a more intimate feel than the opening track. To aid in the song's earnestness, a flute whispers a riveting introduction and evokes an atmospheric mood that continues into the rest of the song. Appropriately preventing the song's ambiance from being too monotonous, the flute accented by fresh-sounding violins played pizzicato blooms in a trembling interlude to the entreating melody. Kate's voice exhibits its best potential toward the end of the album with the lush, seven minute "New Day". It commences with strings humming a wandering theme that soon unites with Havnevik's voice and quirky electronic beats for a symphonic euphoria, the album's high point.

     Amid these cryptic laments, heartwarming pleas, and surreal reveries, Melankton sheepishly tries to hide a few embarrassing low points. "Not Fair" pouts away in a prosaic depression that, with a little imagination, could be sung by Celine Dion. While "Suckerlove" does not sound as stale, its introduction is abrupt, seemingly incomplete. The song proceeds lethargically, awkwardly languishing in a forgettable melodrama. Equally forgettable is "Solo", included on the US version of the album anticlimactically after "New Day". Obviously, it is an b-side and an afterthought. Simplistic and acoustic, it is innocuous, great material for an easy-listening radio station.

     Despite its low points, Melankton is otherwise a fascinating work. It soothes and relaxes, creating an ideal setting for, say, a cool summer evening. It displays solid imagery that is captivating and almost eerie at times. Protests that the album is unoriginal and unadventurous quickly become extinguished in the album's dreamy mist that causes the listener to become happily lost in the unfamiliar magic of night.


The Italian equivalent of Norah Jones, Amalia Grè sings in a voice that is playful and light:
"Armonafrica Televisiva"

"La Camisa Negra" is a distinctively melodic Latin pop song by the Columbian musician Juanes.

     Last night, I went to the NorVa to see British singer-songwriter Imogen Heap perform. Now, I apologize for the hyperboles that will follow: Perhaps my perspective of her is skewed because I am a heterosexual male, but I was stunned by her performance. Her voice was far more magnificent live than canned in a studio, and her stage presence was charming and kinetic with a hint of endearing shyness.

     The opening act was Kid Beyond. A talented beat-boxer from the San Francisco Bay Area, he is beginning to receive recognition both from touring with artists like Keane and Sage Francis and having video clips of his performances circulate around the internet.
     For his show last night, he used loop sequencing software Ableton Live on a laptop controlled by a foot pedal. With this setup, he created complex arrangements assembled from diverse beat and effect loops with only his mouth to accompany his singing voice. The original compositions he performed like "Cathedral" sounded much like Thievery Corporation and Chemical Brothers. But clearly his best performance was on two cover songs he did, Nine Inch Nails's "Closer to God" and acclaimed British trip-hop group Portishead's "Wandering Star ".

     Following a brief intermission, the lovely Imogen Heap appeared on the stage to enthusiastic cheers from the audience. In bohemian-chic rock style, her hair was chaotic as usual and she wore a leather corset/vest that defiantly contrasted with a soft fur scarf and a long silky skirt sporting lavender flowers trimmed with lace. She merged alluringly with the sensual lavender and rose colors of the stage backed by four circular screens that projected live video and film-school-esque dynamic artwork to complement the songs.

     Throughout her set, her verve was electrifying. It was evident she loved her music and loved to perform it in spite of her relentless touring this year in support of Speak For Yourself. She energetically scurried about the stage, from the keyboard to the loop sampler controller to the drum kit to the mbira (an instrument made of long, flat metal bars suspended over a small wooden resonator box). Whenever she got the chance, she spun around and danced to the music somehow not getting too breathless to sing.
     She sang sometimes solo, sometimes accompanied by equally enthusiastic musicians playing the upright bass, guitar, and drums. Either way, the songs were fascinating to watch and hear, whether just quiet piano and voice, or a full ensemble filling the club with lush climaxes. For the most part, the song arrangements coincided with their album counterparts, apart from subtle but fresh variations. Other songs had noticeable differences like "Closing In" which had an extended introduction that coalesced into an almost avant-garde classical soundscape of dissonant chords. Her best performance was on a gripping a cappella rendition of "Just For Now". Throughout the song, she looped live vocals to accompany the melody that was pleading, wistful and heartrending.
     Most of the other songs were from her latest album, but she did perform an acoustic version of her Frou Frou song "Let Go" accompanying herself on the piano. Towards the middle of the set, she announced she was about to play a song from her first album I Megaphone. She was surprised that some of us cheered. She folded her arms in mock disapproval, "I can't believe any of you have heard that album. It has been out of print for five or six years. There's no way you all got it legally." She added, "But, in fact, we just re-released it yesterday." With that announcement, she began to play "Candlelight" but stopped to the disappointment of the few people that recognized it. Instead, she decided to play the seductive "Come Here Boy" from the same album.

     She ended the set with an encore that extended to three songs. After the first, which was "Hide And Seek", she performed the lively "Daylight Robbery" supported by the full band again. The third and final song was "The Moment I Said It". Her voice and the piano drifted mysteriously above the silent audience until the sounds finally faded away along with the stage lights.

     One possibly could complain that Imogen's latest album has lost its exclusivity, whored to various television shows for background music and abducted by fashion-conscious sorority girls that could care less about her earlier projects. But one must see her live to realize first-hand that Imogen is still truthfully expressing herself through the music she plays. She deserves any fame or recognition she is getting, that is, as long as she declines any hypothetical offer from the greedy music television networks to star in some atrocious reality show.

     As a graying concert-goer exclaimed to me exiting the venue with his daughter, "This is like the pop music we had twenty years ago. She's actually talented."

     Carbon Leaf is a folk rock quintet that base out of Richmond, VA. The band formed back in 1992, performing events at their alma mater Randolph Macon College, and other colleges along the East Coast. Playing a mixture of jazz and folk, they received enthusiastic receptions from the crowds. The fans fell in love with Barry Privett’s detached yet pleasant voice, and the band’s diverse ensemble of instruments. Their obvious talent generated a grassroots popularity that eventually grew into national attention. After the band won the AMA’s “Coco-Cola New Music Award” in 2002, they signed with folk label Vanguard Records (Mindy Smith, Sinéad O'Connor) for their 2003 release Indian Summer.

     Carbon Leaf’s fifth full length album, Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat is the follow-up to Indian Summer. Like its predecessor, Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat sounds more focused and predictable than earlier albums. Thus, the album seems somewhat vapid, its songs lacking the swagger of concert favorites like “Flood” or “The Boxer”. The arrangements on the album fail to effectively utilize the band’s instrumental capability. Instead, the arrangements are mostly centered on the acoustic guitar. Other instruments like the mandolin play a minimal role. Long-time fans may be frustrated by the album’s hesitance to push musical limits possible through the spontaneous improvisations of jazz and the carefree enchantment of American folk music.
     In spite of the album’s shortcomings, it clearly demonstrates the band’s creative skill, the outcome of a three week recording session in a Nashville studio. The material for the album started as a collection of rough outlines which the band transformed into heartfelt songs, with inventive lyrics. “I wanted songs that were emotionally available to the listener and to me,” Barry Privett explains, “without trying to mask what I’m saying with clever language. The feelings are anxious and regretful. They talk about living up to the mistakes you’ve made. They examine the humanity and weaknesses of everyday life.”
     Like Privett says, the songs employ colourful, lucid imagery to relate to the listener. The first song and single “Learn To Fly” gets carried away in this well-meaning endeavor to be understandable, resulting in an vaguely inspirational analogy between making progress in life and birds flying. But the self-conscious melody is simplistically beautiful and makes up for the unfortunate reality that college graduates can still write bad poetry.
     “Block of Wood” redeems the band’s poetical ability and absolves Randolph Macon College’s English program. It mourns the remnants of a family tree whittled away by fire and flood until all that remains among the ashes is a block of wood. The writer finds this block and treasures it as a souvenir of his heritage. With these thoughtful words, the song evokes images of a tiny campfire lost among the prairie at twilight. The breeze carries the twang of a guitar and the tinkle of a mandolin played by two silhouettes huddled by the fire. Alone in the wilderness, they are singing with voices warm with hope like the embers before them.
     The adventurous wanderlust awakens in “International Airport”. The song describes the relaxing thrill of traveling far away from home free from obligations or schedules. As the time zones change into a blur, the writer slips into a comfortable reverie while he flies above the clouds, knowing that home is only a plane flight away. The accompaniment deftly complements the adventurous spirit of these lyrics, with slightly dissonant piano chords and ambient guitar textures that are reminiscent of Brian Eno’s recent arrangements on Surprise, his collaboration with Paul Simon.
     The climax of the album is clearly the song “The War Was In Color”. It is an emotionally-charged conversation between a solider and his grandson about the War. Finding a box of the grandfather’s memoirs, the grandson asks him if the War was like the movies. Telling his grandson to sit down, the grandfather begins to describe the realities of war from his first-hand perspective of it: “This black and white photo never captured my skin… the war was in color.” He speaks of the battlefield, sliced into pieces by explosive shells and searing metal bullets. He remembers makeshift funerals for fallen friends: “I held the canvas bag over the railing/The dead released, with the ship still sailing.” The song concludes with an unexpected revelation about the grandfather, "Now I lay in my grave at age twenty one." The grandfather wonders if the War and his death was worth the sacrifice: “What good did it do?/Well hopefully for you/A world without war.”

     Perhaps, one day his earnest legacy of peace will be realized.
...

In closing, here are two songs that are begging to be listened to. The first is by Halloween, Alaska, who are a little like a younger brother of the Postal Service, with more pop hooks but still listenable: :: Halloween, Alaska – Call It Clear ::And the second is by Scottish acoustic solo act Alexi Murdoch, who sings in a fabulous, unassuming voice: :: Alexi Murdoch – All My Days ::

    This music video is entertaining. :: Broken Social Scene - Fire-Eyed Boy :: I wonder what camp they attend in the video. It seems to be on the one hand a fitness camp complete with bearded men, 80s jogging shorts, and a skeptical drill instructor, and, on the other hand a music training camp, spoofing the democratised spectacle of American Idol. However, instead of Simon as judge, there is Geddy Lee. Yep, the incredibly talented vocalist/bassist/keyboardist from Rush. Here's a great example of their catchy but technical prog-rock. :: Rush - Limelight ::