Charlotte Gainsbourg – Stage Wisper – CD Experience

Borrowed a CD from the Library.. It’s a rather old CD.  Old liner notes, played often.  Sight unseen.  Let’s see what it sounds like.

Terrible Angels:

Dreamlike the sounds of the buzzing electronica to a march.  Just looking for a protest of song.  Lyrical colors of protest change.

Sounds a bit like Icehouse, don’t know why, probably the 2/4 beat with an offbeat guitar against a rather sweet voice on the Paradisco track.

All the rain:

how very appropriate after all the rain we’ve had here on the East Coast of Australia in the past weekend.  Try to stay.. what ? anyway sounds like 2 bars one of 2/4 then a 4/4 follow up bar, repeated, again Charlotte seems to like having the voice against the basic drum beat, once again with synth in the background.  Simple and colorful, nice like the way if the rain is soft it could cover you, providing not too cold, heavy or torrential.  Somehow I think thats not the way it happens here in Australia these days.  We had about 210 millimeters of rain in one day filling up the Otto recycling bin.

White Telephone:

Well its a nice calm introduction in a slow trudge lazy style of thinking.  Waiting as usual for someone to talk on the phone.  Just like what happens when the robots call you up for telemarketing efficiency, though I doubt that is what Charlotte has in mind.  More actively, how do you feel ? Feel when someone actually never picks up the phone.  Like they somehow don’t understand or don’t actually want to talk to you right now. Gone just like a ghost. Just in the dark end of the empty phone right there.  These days you don’t need a white telephone, although that is somewhat evocative of telephones in hotels.  White phones in white rooms with no real pictures on the walls.

Anna :

Nice name – a bit quicker, happier with Anna of course.  This one has a slightly difficult to follow chorus.  I’ve often wondered re – chorus lines – in songs.  Yes, I believe the strongest chorus or refrains are those that state and re-state the conclusion of the argument. Examples of proof abound in the actual verses, then the chorus comes through sung by multitudes of disciples who actually agree.  Still – not too sure what Anna really thinks.

Got to let go :

Like the idea of the lyrical argument in this one.  It’s about letting go… knowing when to give up.  Of course my own feeling about giving up is … never give up… but we know that is pretty unrealistic… love is a wrecking ball, and I guess if it hits the solid edifice of life you have around you… bits and pieces are going to crash down around you after all.  Go on … do it !!!!  No … no… not the gun… you don’t need any revolver to help let go.  Not sure about this song really .. the argument fails… oh well… never mind.

Out of Touch :

Sounds like a letter… dear friend… plaintive sounds of being out of touch… do you call, text, skype, or write a letter.. what kind of paper would you use.  Lined and fat with thick paper from wallmart.  Sensitive thin paper, the kind you might use sitting on a yacht somewhere ? O I think the paper is important, since when getting back in touch it’s the paper that the reader feels the writer sent.  Yes the paper is what is about.  Could though you send a blank piece ? Probably not, the reader’s mind would get interested, then curious [where is the missing piece] — being out of touch – – got to start somewhere.  Who are you out of touch with ? try getting a nice piece of paper and write something on it — perhaps print an email out and send it… since you may have forgotten how to write neatly.

Memoir:

Interesting analogy where we have a nice boat sailing into memory .. delivering the body for memory — the body is memory –.. I like it in a kind of unknowing way.  So why give yourself to anyone here… why keep replacing relationships with anyone — will anyone at all really do ? Could you really be anyone ?  Not too sure about that..

IRM (Live) :

Love the synth getting a real 3D feel to the song.  Like musical poetry, scans a bit like RAP way before it’s time.  Like the electronic semi-dance feel to it.  The drummer gets a bit carried away with the mechanical torture of the rythm and tries hard to break out momentarily, but the synth cuts him off in the end. I guess a sojourn in an MRI machine is noisy but brief.

Set yourself on fire [live] :

So polite Charlotte – I don’t think these days people would be so polite in the way they ask to set on fire.. Still I like this one.  Sounds kind of progressive, leaning into a reasonable synth backing with some nice rythms.  Kind of pre-punk – anything would be about setting oneself on fire live.  I think bands should try hard to avoid singing about matches and fire and stuff, particularly after the disastrous fires we have recently in nightclubs.  Nightclubs on the other hand really need to think about having emergency exits that automatically OPEN when a fire breaks out. [Re Kiss night club fire in Santa Maria Brazil Jan 2013].

Jamais[live]:

Jamais is French for NEVER – and I love the word Jamais.  I nice 8/8 rythm with the 3rd/7th beat in charge of a kind of question statement. A dialog about a story.  What’s that interesting synth solo in the middle.  What I like is the music is very uncomplicated and allows you to think over other things while you listen.

O Charlotte, your tracks got me wondering about a few things.  Travel, music, wondering, memory, identity. Childlike simplicity.  I think all in all, the sparse music is just enough to highlight a beautiful voice with interesting stuff to think about.

Thanks for a pleasant half an hour Charlotte. Will listen again on big speakers soon !.

Tsunami Elephant Dreaming

But darling said Ferodo, I can’t get home before the end of the world.  I am on a beach stuck out here and I cannot get a flight back. I can’t even get out of the lobby door here.

Never mind about the end of the world, it can’t happen said Helen.  Did you know that elephants are evolving to have no tusks ? she asked.

No, but you don’t understand, this wasn’t mean to be a beach ! OK seahorse hotel, but last time I was here, there wasn’t any beach, and no waves. I have sand filling up the corridor to the main hotel doors , and I can’t get out..its all wet.  There WAS an earthquake, didn’t you see that.. it was on the news.

“No here it has been raining, and I haven’t seen any news about that” she said.  You are not meant to be coming home for another week.

There is no other week he said, this is it, last day, last hour. Last hour got it.  and I can’t even get out of the lobby to the street.

There had been something serious happen to the whole hotel.  The walls had dissappeared and he could straight through the sides and the whole lobby corridor had tilted down toward the street.  He’d been in the bar and must’ve fallen asleep over a few beers.  Harpoon it has to be said is a nice beer Ferodo.  The street had disappeared and he could see blue bright strong sunshine coming in at the sides.  His favourite hotel, the Seahorse hotel was basically evaporating in his mind was a total surrealisation of the world and his world view felt zoomy and jetlagged. At midnight the night before the news had been all about the rapture, some kind of Thessalonik event, and life had suddenly got real complex and quiet.  The phone’s still worked, he was on one.. but his wife down in the southern hemisphere seemed to have absolutely no clue.

“Whats up ?”, “What are you thinking ?” she asked again..

There was a noise, it was related to the wind, and wide waves were coming in, and laying sand all over the place.  He had managed to scramble up to a dry place to make the call.. he felt sure that with no walls, and when the sun went down in the west, it would get cold and windy, and what about the ocean, and what about the walls ?

He guessed his wife had a right to be concerned that elephants were evolving without tusks, and natural selection had meant elephants with tusks got killed off for their tusks. Any luck they would just develop tusks later in life and they would be shorter, so no one would kill them.

He didn’t know and couldn’t answer.  He said “bye darling – God bless” and put the phone down.

Things settled a bit, but he had noticed that it had started to smell, a lot like Kerala in India, like elephants, and the walls and roof of the hotel lobby had turned into an elephant. The whole fabric of the hotel became like elephants legs with no tusks.  The waves rushing up from time to time between them, and he felt at peace, almost as if nature and man and his abode were evolving in a wave of change, so rapid and strong and secure it felt like rapture, down there at the Seahorse Hotel.