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Showing posts with label Music Bites. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music Bites. Show all posts

Sunday 24 October 2021

Looking Back At A Long-Gone Life

Lately, like many in my current pandemic-addled state of mind, I've been tuning to VTubers at the end of each day to wind down. Some of them have other talents than being entertaining on screen while streaming, and quite a few can sing well enough to put out singles and even whole albums.

One of these talents is the "rapping reaper", Calliope Mori. She's produced quite a few songs, some of which feature a mix of English and Japanese lyrics, and the apparent ease with which she comes up with them speak of many, many hours, if not years, of practice.

A recent original, "End of a Life", took me down an emotional memory lane. Something about the soothing yet melancholic number makes you want to listen to it again and again.

While I lack the vocabulary to analyse songs, I could tell from the lyrics that on the surface, "End of a Life" seems to be about someone - perhaps Calli or anyone in the music business - who feels nostalgic about their starving artist days.

Life is a series of stages, and when people are dissatisfied with what they have to deal with now, they tend to look back towards simpler times, no matter how rough and far removed from where they are now.

There's a certain romance to the journeyman's struggle: despite the bad bosses, bad co-workers, bad environment and other occupational hazards on a road seemingly going nowhere, something comes along that makes things a little better: that one good colleague, the kind waitress at the diner, or unexpected things such as a helping hand from a stranger, an epiphany that descends while savouring a dinner or a drink, or some serendipitous event. And the occasional trip to a rooftop with a view, with or without friends, and the cathartic ranting, singing or hollering away of the day's troubles.

Times may have been tough when you were up and coming, but these things kept you going, one day at a time. Eventually, you developed a camaraderie with the community and the place where all this happened. Each day fraught with hardship that's survived is an accomplishment.

But then you catch a break, you move up and life gets cushier. A sort of torpor sets in, not the stuck-at-the-bottom type but the lonely-at-the-top or the now-what type often encountered at loftier heights. The grind is different, not as real like when you sweated buckets for what you can now do with a flick of the wrist, forgetting that it's also due to all the experience earned along the way.

That's when you look back and feel like an impostor, seeing the past with rose-tinted lens. That's when you feel guilty for leaving the old hood and all your old friends behind, the ones who came up with you but didn't get the break you did. All this messes with you and makes you feel you don't deserve what you have now.

But wasn't all this what you dreamed of when you stared into the stars from that roof, holding on to the ghost of that beer or cigarette in your mouth as you wished that horrible boss would drop dead?

Near the bottom, the struggle was real, but so were the connections you made, the gems you found. Those seem to get fewer and farther between as you get near the top, don't they?

Each stage of life has its good and bad. Before long you'd notice it too. The grind, the lulls in between, and the end-of-the-day ritual for tomorrow. The environment may be better, but it's still the same. Less real, perhaps, because you aren't suffering as much.

That's the longing for simple days that creep in when you're down, that some people attribute to Stockholm syndrome. If only they knew, huh?

It's a privilege to be able to look back at a shitty life with such fondness for the occasional bright spots, and you know it. Not everybody is as fortunate. Maybe these trips back in time are a distraction from the anxieties of the future.

Maybe what you miss is being young, being tough enough to survive whatever life throws at you. The high from making it through a tough day that makes you feel like you will life forever.

Alas, all lives must end. Just as the shitty life ended for you, so will these best years eventually join that shitty life in the recesses of your memory, only to surface at the lower points when you're older and less resilient to the emotional battering from mourning the sweet spots in your past.

Until then, from time to time, you'll revisit the old hood, old friends, and that rooftop with the view, where you held on to the taste of that beer or cigarette, laughed at your bullshit dreams of the big time, and hurled curses or sang songs alone or with your friends.

And you'll keep wondering how they're doing and if any of them made it out like you did, or disappear into the lights of the old hood, as you mentally compose thank-yous you might never get to send to them and others who in their little ways, took you through life day by day until you caught a break - and dreading what would've become of you if they hadn't shown up. Will they even be there when you drop by? Do you even want to and risk opening old wounds?

We all have such thoughts occasionally. All these and more surface each time I replay the song. To what extent Calli drew from experience when she wrote this, or whether she made it all up, I don't know. But I feel they echo strongly within content creators, like the ones we're watching. Many of them languished in similar dead ends until they became online stars.

I didn't quite set out to write an open letter of sorts to the protagonist or anyone who find themselves in the protagonist's shoes in the song, but here I am. So let me finish.

Well, you toughed it out too. All the good fortune one can receive means nothing if you didn't put in the work. You are here, and the "you" who didn't get lucky is a hypothetical, erased by the paths you did take.

Some people didn't believe in you, put you down, didn't stick around. That's fine. Do what you're doing now for those who did. If they're real homies they'd be cheering and singing along with you, proud that you're taking on the world.

Even if the old hood is gone, it'll live on in the heart, still doing what it's always been doing to get you through life one day at a time. And now, you also have new people who support you. As long as one is alive, might as well cherish the good things, tough out the bad, and make the most of every opportunity.

So don't stop dreaming. We'll be here when you wake up.

Thursday 22 July 2021

Counting Scars

I can't remember the first time I heard Hong Kong singer Sandy Lam's "Scars", though its melody still haunts the fringes of my mind. But weighed down by growing recent concerns, I looked it up again on YouTube.

A closer look at the lyrics showed me how much of an education I might have missed, and that I should pay more attention to what I listen to. And considering that the song was released in 1995, "late to the party" is an understatement.

Composed and lyricised by Jonathan Li Zongsheng, the song is sung from a woman's point of view and the first part is basically, "Girlfriend, it's freaking late at night. Who's got you up counting your scars, and why do you need a light to go to bed? If you won't dish, I won't prod."

That's not the end of the story, as she goes on (pardon the gaps in my translation skills):

It's just that right now you have to admit
At times love is like a void
And the relationship itself is a letdown
So don't blame it all on yourself as a woman

Does language also determine the degree of profundity in a song's lyrics?

If you love so deeply there will be no balance
Being trapped in a relationship tortures the soul
Love what you should love, hate what you should hate
Just don't exhaust yourself

Here comes the advice:

A woman's unique, natural naivete and tenderness
Is only for the one who truly loves you
So no matter how rough the future may be
He will always see it through with you

...and the caution:

Love may be a responsibility, but give it your best
Even if at times it's so beautiful, it doesn't last
Love is enchanting but it also wounds vSo if you're brave enough to love, be brave enough to part

There's nothing to unpack here, as the words speak for themselves, and so eloquently. Good advice for those in a relationship, regardless of gender.

Since revisiting this song though, the melody and the words trail me like ghosts. Have I been counting scars on some nights when I can't sleep?

The Nineties were another time, and I'd like to believe we're all braver and more open about our troubles. Nevertheless, some of us are sleeping less than we should these days and may not be up to the job of being a listening ear or a sturdy shoulder.

So take some time off to find and do what recharges you for what lie ahead, and avoid what causes you heartache and fury, like the news or social media right now.

Love what you should love, hate what you should hate
Just don't exhaust yourself

Friday 9 October 2015

On The Verge Of Touching The Sky

Let the tracks in Owl City's Mobile Orchestra move your heart to the edge of the earth and soar to the heavens


"I ain't to sure what I believe in, but I believe in what I see
And when I close my eyes, I see my whole life ahead of me..."


So begins "Verge", the first track in Owl City's latest album, Mobile Orchestra.

In May, before the album's release, Owl City frontman Adam Young tweeted (or "hooted", if you like) the lyric video for the "Verge" single, which revolved around graduating from college or university.

Aloe Blacc, his collaborator for the track, thought the graduation angle would be great for it; Young's was about weddings. Either angle works; the rousing anthemic track can be trotted out to celebrate a new phase in one's life. When R&B and hip-hop man Blacc heard the track, he felt that "it sounded like it could be ... quite inspirational."

Oh, very much, from the way it straps rockets to your heart and launches it to the "edge of the earth and we're touching the sky tonight..."

I finally got a copy of the album in September. So I'm a little slow. Or perhaps it's the music stores here.




The album's title was inspired by Young's realisation of how technology allowed him to stuff an orchestra's worth of sounds in a laptop – to him, a blessing and a curse – and his inability to switch off the creative side of his brain that's being bothered by an unfinished song or melody. One the bright side, he doesn't need to assemble a band of humans to scratch that musical itch.

His early stuff has been derided as light, fluffy and sweet; I'd call it pixie-dust electronica/synthpop. He even manages to make werewolves ("Wolf Bite", not in this album) and the aftermath of a father's suicide ("This Isn't the End") sound nice and cheerful – that is, if you don't pay too much attention to the lyrics.

From The Midsummer Station onwards, however, I feel he's moving even more towards experiments with different sounds and genres, and joint efforts with other artistes. Yuna worked with Young on "Shine Your Way", featured in the Dreamworks animated feature The Croods.

After "Fireflies", I've been looking forward to his new releases. I'm not a fan of every piece, but when there are more hits and misses in an album, it's worth the time and effort to own one.

The album kicks of with "Verge", which encapsulates the excitement and anticipation of one on the cusp of receiving one's degree. Listeners are transported back to the graduation hall (or whichever milestone), all nervous and elated at being on the threshold of a new life.

Blacc's resonant vocals in the middle (bridge, maybe?) convey the soaring pride, joy and conviction in the new graduate's pledge to make good and do good with the acquired skills and knowledge:

From now on there's no looking back
Full steam ahead on this one-way track
From this day forward I will make a promise
To be true to myself and always be honest
For the rest of my life, I will do what's right...

Much has also been said about Young's spirituality, and fans have been combing his work for signs of that. Several pieces in Mobile Orchestra leave no doubt that he's a good devout boy from Owatonna, Minnesota. "You are my light in the dark," he croons in "My Everything", "and I sing with all of my heart..."

This track is, Young said, "my attempt at summing up how important my faith is to me, and certainly how much influence it is, not just the decisions I make creatively as an artiste but every area of my life, you know ... across the whole board."

He also hopes it will provide encouragement to the "spiritually weary or tired" who need a nudge to get out of whatever fix they're in. "If somebody's mood is lightened for 30 seconds or a minute while they're driving to work because of this song, I felt my job is done."

I think part of it also has something to do with his insomnia, and having gone through several sleepless nights myself, I can empathise – especially if he's sleeping better these days. Sleep deprivation is not funny, and one is always glad when pleas for deliverance are answered.

Besides Blacc, he also collaborated with several other musicians and artistes for this album. "Unbelievable" – which sees Young and the guys from Hanson recalling stuff they had or experienced when they were kids, including the Fresh Prince, Jazzy Jeff, Lion King, Jurassic Park and "I won't lie, my friends and I were too legit to quit" – was bubbly straightforward fun.

"You're Not Alone" (with Britt Nicole), Young suggests, addresses and assuages the feelings of isolation and being distant one feels, even within a crowd or among a gathering of loved ones. The chorus says different, though.

The country-themed "Back Home" is also particularly emotive. This track, featuring US country singer Jake Owen, brings a tear (or ten) to the eye as the verses strum the heartstrings, compelling one to pack one's bags and say hello to tree lines, "free time and starry nights, to bonfires and fireflies".

And as one's vision blurs with each additional reminiscence, memories get addled and some of the lyrics start sounding different...

Back home there's a girl named Ong Joleen
A kopitiam off the main road that I've never been
And every red-dirt road is a trip down memory lane
And back home, where the palms grow thirty feet tall
And momma's chicken curry is the best of all
The casuarinas are waving till we come back home again

Even the last track, the previously mentioned "This Isn't the End", didn't dampen the overall mood created by the album. Instead, one is left with hope and optimism that things will be okay, that more and better Owl City tunes are still to come.

With great tracks and great replay value, Mobile Orchestra is the album to grab and keep you company in a traffic jam or, better yet, your balik kampung journey as you say goodbye to the street lights and city skyline.

♪ So pack your bags it's time to go~ ♫

Friday 6 April 2012

Chasing Camels On The Karakoram Highway

This post had been sitting as a draft copy for about three weeks. Someone suggested giving this to The Malaysian Insider, so I did. Once again, TMI has been very kind.

Also, special thanks to an ex-colleague who introduced me to this band via a copy of their first album, Into... AkashA, back in... nuts, I can't remember when. ...I didn't do anything with that album back then, so I'm glad I could do something for this album now.



Chasing camels on the Karakoram Highway
first published in The Malaysian Insider, 06 April 2012


When I heard it, my jaw dropped. "Returned?"

"Cannot sell, so the boss said, 'Return them'," said the store assistant who looked overqualified for his position. With the beard, glasses and ponytail he might as well be the store's walking catalogue and go-to guy... he probably is.

"I put them everywhere," he added. "But cannot sell." His reply was no comfort.

In the end, it was at Rock Corner, The Gardens that I found a copy of AkashA's Karakoram Highway, going for RM38.90 each.


Cover of AkashA's 'Karakoram Highway' album
AkashA's Karakoram Highway, from Rock Corner, The Gardens.
Shop at Rock Corner for all your musical needs.


My appetite for things AkashA began from a borrowed CD, what I believe was their first commercial CD, Into... AkashA. The promise of more of such delights as "Bourbon Lassi", "Esperanto", "Brickfields Blues" and "Ants in My Turban" in the next then-rumoured second album were whetted further by a YouTube sampling of a lively number called "Ipoh Hor Fun".

Until my first slurp of "Bourbon Lassi", I didn't think a sitar could stand in for a sape or a gu zheng, or even fit into a blues band or an Irish ensemble a la Riverdance. It just works.

How many of you who've seen Amir Muhammad's Malaysian Gods were stunned by the Indian fellow playing local rock group Search's "Isabella" on an er hu? That's what AkashA does. Nowadays some of my better writings were done under the influence of this group's piquant and sometimes playful compositions.

Named for the highest paved cross-border road in the world, the album's contents represent fine examples of cross-culture interaction facilitated by its namesake, which traces part of the ancient Silk Road.


CD of AkashA's 'Karakoram Highway'
Come in - a cross-cultural musical adventure awaits


The CD starts with the fast-paced, jaunty "Chasing the Camel" which sends the listener on such a pursuit from 00:01. The composition switches fluidly between Middle Eastern and Indian, punctuated with violin solos by musical wunderkind Wang Lee-Hom. Just as animated is the title track, which sends one careening across a dusty highway that snakes along mountain ridges on a packed, rickety bus ... are those deftly plucked notes coming from the roof?

Similar out-of-body experiences may happen with the beguilingly mystical "Qawali Dhun" or the soulful Sarawak-inspired "Santubong". The festive "Bafana Bafana", with the shrill of what sounds like a vuvuzela at the beginning and the end of the track, conjures a carnival-like celebration of football's thrills and spills; the track is named after the Zulu epithet for the South African football team. "Zapin Untuk Mariam" and "Bison Blues", meanwhile, are the guys' trademark nods to the respective musical genres. "Rondo Kirwani" didn't quite work for me, though.

I was also a bit disappointed that the unmistakably Chinese "Ipoh Hor Fun" wasn't carried by a whole sitar solo like in the YouTube video, but the feeling disappears quickly and by the third repeat, who cares? Every time I play it, it's Chinese New Year, Chap Goh Meh and the Mooncake Festival all over again. ...Is anybody hungry?

No sophomore slump here. AkashA still delivers the goods - better than FedEx even. And you come away thinking, maybe, you can make an Ipoh hor fun with an Indian accent, or a real bourbon lassi.

"...cannot sell..."

The words of the assistant at the store which shall never be named still rings in my head. It stings. Like the pain a dedicated, OCD single origin coffee grower feels as he watches customers add sugar (gasp!) and milk/cream/soy (hrrk!) to his product ... and puts it on ice (Medic!).

It's a paradox isn't it? The money we throw at foreign acts who are already famous, making millions or both could be used to further the dreams of our own home acts who really, really need our help.

But perhaps it's only after wandering in the wilderness for a while that we develop an appreciation for what we have back home.

...Now, if you'll excuse me, gotta go. The "Karakoram Highway" beckons.