Album of the Month: IECHYD DA by Bill Ryder-Jones

Sometimes an album speaks to you so directly and so intimately that it is hard to believe you could spend your whole life without it. Bill Ryder-Jones' new album is the sort of thing that makes me burst into tears of joy and laugh like a madman. It is the sort of artistic achievement that you have the right to make just once in your life. It is a work of immense beauty and sincerity that soars, grips and never lets go. 

January is not even supposed to be a good month. If anything, it is supposed to drag on listlessly and die a quiet, if noble, death. It is not supposed to produce any strong melodies or lyrical nuance. Miraculously, though, Iechyd Da (Welsh for 'good day') is probably my album of the year which was released less than two weeks into 2024.

Back in the day, I reviewed Bill Ryder-Jones' soundtrack If... for Oxford Music Magazine and praised it for the classical minimalism that felt not just self-consciously pretty but also genuinely moving. He then released two very good albums which I admired rather than loved ("You're Getting Like Your Sister" notwithstanding), after which came Yawn. Typically personal and introspective, this was the Ryder-Jones album that really clicked with me. And now, after five long years and a lovely, if inessential, Yawny Yawn LP (a stripped-down version of Yawn), comes Iechyd Da.

It is difficult to imagine that Bill Ryder-Jones did not realise he was on to something special here, because everything, everything about Iechyd Da spells creative peak. These are his most realised melodies, his most accomplished lyrics, his most elaborate arrangements. There is a stunningly beautiful album cover, there is a well-placed sample of Gal Costa's "Baby", there is Michael Head reading from James Joyce's Ulysses and there is even a children's choir that crops up here and there to astounding effect. Speaking of the latter, there is a particularly heartfelt moment at the very end of "It's Today Again" when the kids sing a cappella the lines that serve as a counterpoint to the album's seminal lyrical statement: "There is something great about life / But there's something not quite right".

The songs are as complex as they are disarmingly simple. You get gentle acoustic strumming one second, and soaring, majestic strings the next, and it all works in perfect unison, erupting in multiple moments of musical bliss (the orchestral climax from George Harrison's "Try Some Buy Some" would be a good reference point). While the album is not diverse at all (as a matter of fact, it sounds homogenous to a fault), it never seems monotonous. "Christinha" is almost upbeat, and "How Beautiful I Am" is almost a waltz. Plus, he tends to make songs evolve and develop in the course of their running time. The opening "I Know That It's Like This (Baby)" is especially notable in this respect, to say nothing of the beginning of "If Tomorrow Starts Without Me", a wonderful nod to Lou Reed. 

Well, what more can I say, really? A well-honed, intimate, beautifully realised work that moves me to absolute tears (the lyrics of the two closing songs are as vulnerable as they are hard-hitting). If you have a vinyl record player, buy it on vinyl. If you have a tape recorder, buy it on tape. Get it somehow. This album truly is remarkable.

January Round-Up

"Don't Go Puttin' Wishes In My Head" was one of my favourite songs of 2021 (Thirstier was, in fact, an excellent little indie-pop LP), so I was naturally looking forward to whatever Torres does next. Sadly, What an enormous room comes off limp and unmotivated. Moments of true inspiration (the pulsating single "Collect" with its tasteful scuzziness, the strangely hypnotic "Jerk Into Joy" with a Laurie Anderson-esque intermission) are few and far between.

Thom Yorke and company (currently operating under The Smile moniker), meanwhile, keep releasing their 'best since In Rainbows'  albums. Wall Of Eyes is instantly engaging, with substantial grooves, lovely wafts of strings and memorable vocal hooks that you can actually relate to. Really, you do not need to make an intellectual effort to appreciate the disarming piano-based ballad "Friend of a Friend".

Sleater-Kinney are still wildly praised by critics (mostly, and this gets increasingly clearer after reading the reviews, for their past glories) but at this point it is hard to see the appeal. Little Rope is a middling late-period album (much like their previous two) that sounds too laboured to generate any genuine excitement. A couple of songs aside, this is indie-rock with meat on its bones but very little edge. 

I also hear that Liam Gallagher has released a new single with John Squire. There is not much I can say about it, though, other than the obvious: "Rain" by The Beatles gets 5/5, and "Just Another Rainbow" gets 2/5. 

Songs of the month:

"If Tomorrow Starts Without Me" - Bill Ryder-Jones

"Did You End Up With The One You Love?" - Robert Forster

"Friend of a Friend" - The Smile

"Shiver" - The Libertines

"Undress Yourself" - Sleater-Kinney

"Can't Believe We're Here" - J Mascis

"Collect" - Torres

Тэатр. "ДЗІКАЕ ПАЛЯВАННЕ КАРАЛЯ СТАХА" (2023) / Беларускі Свабодны Тэатр.

Беларускі свабодны тэатр з'явіўся ў маім жыцці яшчэ ў студэнцкія часы. Менавіты тады, на першым ці на другім курсе, я патрапіў на закрыты паказ спектакля прысвечанага знікненню беларускіх палітыкаў і журналістаў. Памятаю закінуты дом недалёка ад плошчы Бангалор, дзе каля сцяны стаялі вузкія, халодныя лаўкі. Памятаю квіткі, якіх не было (на ўваходзе правяраліся спісы з нашымі імёнамі). Памятаю Мікалая Халезіна, які папярэджваў нас перад пачаткам, што ў любы момант сюды можа ўварвацца АМАП і брутальна затрымаць кожнага з нас. Нават карэспандэнтаў замежных каналаў, якія таксама прысутнічалі ў памяшканні. На жаль, я не так добра памятаю саму пастаноўку, якая не ўрэзалася ў маю памяць, а захавалася толькі як цьмяны ўспамін пра іншае вымярэнне і нейкую дзіўную рэальнасць, у якіх мы некалі жылі.

                                                                      Tristram Kenton/The Guardian

Пасля таго вечара Беларускі свабодны тэатр знік з майго жыцця амаль што на два дзесяцігоддзі. Я чуў пра Мікалая Халезіна і яго поспехі ў Лондане і на іншых сусветных пляцоўках, але саміх пастановак я не бачыў. Дый не шмат хто меў такую магчымасць, бо каб патрапіць на гэтыя паказы, трэба было ляцець у Сіднэй ці ў Нью-Ёрк (што, канешне, цалкам зразумела). Тое, што заставалася, - гэта цудоўны міф, а таксама звышстаноўчыя рэцэнзіі, ўзнагароды і першыя радкі рэйтынгаў па выніках года. Увесь гэты час Беларускі свабодны тэатр заставаўся тэатрам у выгнанні, які распавядаў пра беларускія жахі замежнаму гледачу. І замежны глядач быў у захапленні.

У мінулым годзе тэатр вырашыў зрабіць нечаканы крок улева і паставіць оперу па культаваму для Беларусі раману Караткевіча "Дзікае паляванне караля Стаха". Прэм'ера адбылася ў Лондане ў верасні, у знакамітым Barbican Centre, і, як заўжды, крытыкі былі ў захапленні. Прынамсі, самым гучным закідам да халезінскай пастаноўкі было тое, што непадрыхтаваны глядач не разумеў амаль нічога з таго, што адбываецца на сцэне. Тым не менш, заблытанасць падзей наўрад ці магла напужаць беларускага гледача, які ведаў мову і сюжэт, і ў якога з'явілася магчымасць цягам трох дзён убачыць оперу на YouTube-канале Свабоднага тэатра. 

Пастаноўка "Дзікага палявання" выглядае змрочна і хаатычна. І калі я не магу не пагадзіцца з першым, то другое па-сапраўднаму бянтэжыць. Нават калі добра ведаць кнігу, падзеі ў гэтай пастаноўцы нагадваюць бязладнае напластаванне дэкарацый і сцэн. Якія можа і выглядаюць эфектна і тэхнічна складана, яле якія хутчэй пра форму, чым пра мастацкі змест. Гатычная атмасфера нагадвае савецкі фільм 1979 года (дарэчы, цудоўны, хаця і звыштэатральны), але за час прагляду мяне так і не пакінула адчуванне, што эмоцыі ў пастаноўцы Беларускага свабоднага тэатра амаль цалкам адсутнічаюць.  

Не з'яўляючыся вялікім экспертам у оперы, магу сказаць толькі, што вакальныя партыі добрыя (не было чамусьці Іллі Сельчукова, які планаваўся першапачаткова як адзін з выканаўцаў), а музыка Вольгі Падгайскай сапраўды выдатная. Менавіта музыка, дарэчы, інтэнсіўная і часам мінімалістычная, падтрымлівала мой інтарэс да містычных падзей у радавым замку Яноўскіх (лібрэта было напісана ўсюдыісным Андрэем Хадановічам). Бо, на жаль, анічога ў гэтай версіі "Дзікага палявання" мяне не кранае. Усё, што адбываецца на сцэне, нагадвае блытаную працэсію эпізодаў і падзей. Эфектны танец, сцэна першая, сцэна другая, цікавая пантаміма, сцэна трэцяя... Гэта ўсё мітусліва, няўпэўнена і не падмацавана аніякім унутраным рытмам. Магчыма, нешта зменіцца ў будучых версіях оперы, але на дадзены момант выглядае гэта ўсё як няўдалы эксперымент.

У нейкі момант пастаноўка немінуча імкнецца ў бок падзей у сучаснай Беларусі, і асобныя эпізоды трапляюць у сэрца ("вы тут занадта жывы"), але нагадваюць яны хутчэй рэдкія спалохі ў сюжэтным хаосе, што адбываецца на сцэне. Ва ўсялякім разе, цэласнай і паслядоўнай гэтую пастаноўку я назваць не магу. Добрыя ж рэцэнзіі сведчаць пра тое, што ў 2023 годзе мы існуем з Беларускім свабодным тэатрам у розных вымярэннях, і гэта, калі шчыра, крыху засмучвае.

French Pop: through the years

I was raised on French pop. Up until the age 9, Joe Dassin was what I heard from an old tape recorder standing on the window-sill of my bedroom. I distinctly remember Mylène Farmer's "Ainsi Soit Je" breaking my heart each night as I was trying to fall asleep. It was sensual and whispery and erotic in a way I could not yet comprehend. My face was smeared with tears. I lost my virginity to French pop. 

To me, these ten songs represent the best of French music, from early 60s and all the way to the current times. From yé-yé to power pop to singer-songwriter to art pop. Essentially, though, this is all shameless pop music. But French. Which, let's face it, removes any shame from the whole thing. 

"Tous les garçons et les filles" by Françoise Hardy (1962)

Hardy was at the forefront of the yé-yé wave that mixed bubblegum and innocence in a highly sexualised French way. A classic song, of course, but the entirety of her back catalogue is well worth exploring. 

"Bonnie and Clyde" by Brigitte Bardot and Serge Gainsbourg (1968)

Few things in the world of French pop are as iconic as the vocal hook by Brigitte Bardot that gallops in the background of "Bonnie and Clyde". Tasteful and seductive.

"Comme un boomerang" by Serge Gainsbourg (1975)

Serge Gainsbourg made his name in the 60s, but this song from 1975 is the one I have always loved the best. The groove just rolls on and on, and Gainsbourg's vocals are typically detached and engaging at the same time.

"Cendrillon" by Téléphone (1982)

Hard rock did not become them: mostly, they just sounded dull and predictible. "Cendrillon", however, was an entirely different matter. Released in 1982, this was power pop that relied on charm rather than power. 

"Ella, elle l'a" by France Gall (1987)

I have never actually liked France Gall in her yé-yé glory. "Poupée de cire, poupée de son" was way too much. "Ella, elle l'a", on the other hand, is a brilliant tribute to Ella Fitzgerald and features unsubtle 80s production that somehow works. It is slick but not soulless.

"Sensualité" by Axelle Red (1993)

Well, what can we do about a song that disembowels you with its pop hooks? Axelle Red is a Belgian artist whose first album was patchy but not without its share of great songs. One of them was "Sensualité", a song so irresistible you have to surrender at some point during the chorus.

"Raphaël" by Carla Bruni (2002)

A short article in a music magazine once pointed me in the direction of Carla Bruni's sentimental folk music, and from what I could gather her debut album is where it's at. Since then, she's been pleasant but inessential. "Raphaël" is a great little pop song.

"Christine" by Juniore (2013)

Juniore is a fantastic band from Paris that combines yé-yé with psychedelic surf music. A very attractive combination that has yielded two excellent albums and "Christine" as their debut single. Sizzling.

"Où va le monde" by La Femme (2016)

This band from Biarritz is the epitome of diversity (synthpop, indie rock, ambient, folk pop, psychedelia, yé-yé) and inconsistency (even their best albums are all over the place). But God knows "Où va le monde" is criminally catchy. Maybe the greatest song of all time, maybe not.

"Monde Nouveau" by Feu! Chatterton (2021)

I reviewed these guys in 2021 when their last album was released, and I stand by what I said back then: adventurous art pop with great songwriting. "Monde Nouveau" is still a modern classic.