Thursday, September 2, 2010

Enjoy the Silence. Because I'm a Creep.

Following up on the abrupt non-sequitur that derailed my almost-triumphant return to the blogosphere...

A few months ago, my wife asked me if I liked choral music (which would have been an odd question if her sister weren't a member of the 18th Street Singers in Washington, DC). I gave some characteristically cryptic answer along the lines of "Eh, only if it's nifty," upon which I was asked to elaborate. Stumbling and stammering for specific examples (as usual), I tried to explain that, while old-school church hymns, regurgitated Baroque compositions, and so forth were not at all interesting to me, I am a fan of (a) the sparse, creative, and/or unexpected use of a choral ensemble, and (b) choral arrangements of music that you wouldn't ever expect to be sung by a choir. (Glee almost qualifies as the latter, but it's technically a capella.)

"Oh sure?" said the wife, who then waved a magic wand and a bunch of assorted baked goods spontaneously materialize. I had failed to explain myself.

Well, as of a few days ago, a seismic example of case (b) smacked me in the face when I saw the trailer for The Social Network that I mentioned a couple of posts ago, which is set to a choral arrangement of Radiohead's "Creep" performed by the Scala & Kolacny Brothers choir. Although "Creep" has never really been my favorite Radiohead song, the arrangement completely floored me, and I stayed awake for another two or three hours listening to this all-female Belgian group. It turns out that they have several arrangements of 80s/90s/00s pop, some of which are complete earworms, and others of which are just kinda bleh. You can find many of their album recordings and performances on Youtube. (And oh yes, you can buy their stuff on iTunes.)

These five in particular I can't get out of my head:
Less catchy, but interesting in unexpected ways:
Anyway, this is why I haven't downloaded the latest Arcade Fire album yet... although I have to say, their interactive music video is an mesmerizing experience if you're rocking an HTML5-compatible browser (e.g. Chrome).

Footnote: For those of you who are curious, a prime example of case (a) occurred way back in 1997 with Final Fantasy VII. Imagine: there you are, sitting in front of your TV with your brand-new Sony PlayStation (the original) -- having slogged through 40-50 hours of one of the most convoluted and ambiguous video game plots of all time (think Lost), you have reached the final battle against a villain who's planning to crash a meteor into the planet so that he can become a god. (See previous comments regarding plot.) Just when you think you've defeated him, you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a ring of swirling clouds, and your nemesis descends from above in the form of an angel with a single bat-wing in place of his right hand, glaring at you and ready to fight some more. A new battle song starts playing, and after about a minute, as you're hacking and slashing and struggling to stay alive, you start to hear an ominous, disembodied choir chanting something in Latin -- holy shit, WTF is that?!

You have to understand: in 1997, video games didn't talk, not to mention sing, or sing in Latin. Pulling off a stunt like this, at the moment of highest tension, was a game-changer, for both the player and the industry. It also made the bad guy's mega-attack that destroys the entire solar system -- a two-minute animated sequence that is easily the most ridiculous move in all of video game history -- seem frivolous by comparison.

(Random-coincidence trivia: the name of this battle song, "One-Winged Angel," is also the name of a Scala & Kolacny album.)

Anyway, that's an example. And it appears that I have once again derailed myself.

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