Post by Hellfire on Aug 30, 2007 22:50:16 GMT -5
if only people looked a little further than the pop charts before claiming that pop music is dead forever... 
from allmusicguide.com:
and as if that were not enough...
from musicOMH.com:
too bad no one paid this record the attention it deserves. Anniversary is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. and i don't even like New York.
from allmusicguide.com:
Six years in the pop music world is a long time. In fact, for many artists, it's a lifetime or two. Suzanne Vega has been away from recording for a long time, but it isn't because she hasn't been working. She is the subject of Some Journey, a documentary film by Christopher Seufert; in addition, she hosted a memorial concert for her late brother, artist Timothy Vega in 2002, performed with Bill Frisell at the Century of Song concerts in Germany, hosted the American Public Media series American Mavericks (which won a Peabody Award), played a huge gig in Central Park in 2006, played live in the online game Second Life (she was the first artist of many to do so), got remarried, and changed record labels. She's also been writing songs: lots of them. Songs in Red and Gray, her last offering for A&M, was issued just two weeks after 9/11. Beauty and Crime is a lengthy meditation on the city of New York, the place she calls home. These songs glide like a harlequin's ghost through the hearts and minds of city residents past and present, on its streets, in its hotels, apartments, in every corner of the city. There is more than the hint of memory on Beauty & Crime. The album is dedicated to the memory of Tim, who lived on "Ludlow Street" -- the name of the set's second cut, a searing and simply moving tribute to him -- and cites as muses in part "...Edith Wharton and all her heroines...and Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner for their passion," and who have songs named for them here. In doing so, 9/11 itself cannot be left out of the equation, and the album's final two cuts deal with personal versions of this story, one of which is informed by her brother-in-law Angel Ruiz, a New York City cop stationed at Ground Zero after the attacks on the World Trade Center. Most of these songs look at life in the interim, or remembering what the city was like in the '70s as on the cut "Zephyr and I."
Musically, this is easily her most adventurous record ever; yet it is also more accessible than any album since her debut. The craft and care put into the songs themselves and their articulation by Vega and producer Jimmy Hogarth are amazing. Here, emotions are laid bare in places whether in the first, second, or third persons, but they are always placed inside elegant yet spare lyrics that are taut, poetic, and evocative. The dreamy soundscape contains layers of guitars, percussion (organic, electronic and live, in one case) strings, reeds, brass, and backing singers (including daughter Ruby Froom who appears on a couple of cuts, and KT Tunstall who appears once). But it's the sound of Vega's acoustic guitar on all these songs that is unmistakably at the top and provides the album's anchor. It's important to note this, simply because it keeps these beautiful pop songs rooted in a new kind of contemporary folk that Vega was a pioneer of in the '80s. And it keeps her rooted to her own catalog, from the beginning to the present. In other words, as she has experimented in the past with all kinds of sounds, she has forever remained herself and never more so than here, whether it's the jazzy, faux bossa nova of "Pornographer's Dream" or its predecessor, the stunning "New York Is a Woman." "Frank and Ava," is a rocking pop tune whose electric and acoustic guitars entwine, seemingly kissing, wrapped around a bassline played by Tony Shanahan from the Patti Smith Group. The deliberate interweaving of strings and her guitar on "Edith Wharton's Figurines" offers a glimpse of the late author's studied cool and dignity as it speaks from the voices of her characters to a songwriter who can see not only herself, but the anonymous millions of others living in and around New York City. "Bound," whose title is attended by a glimpse of Vega's wedding to poet and lawyer Paul Mills (who waited for her for 26 years), along with "As You Are Now," about her daughter (which also contain a photograph of its subject) are among the most nakedly personal songs she has ever written. "Angel's Doorway" is as pointed a musical vignette as one is likely to hear in a pop song. With electric guitars, a seemingly cheesy synth line, droning bassline, and sparkling acoustic guitar with the flat thud of the percussion offers its tonalities of the various voices of those in the city who have been snuffed out but live inside the subject.
The final track, "Anniversary," written a year after 9/11, opens with Vega's guitar skeletally framing her melody. It is the contemplative sound of a city that's gone on, changed forever yet forever itself, despite it being "thick with ghosts, the wind whips 'round its circuitries...as they meet you on each corner/meet you on each street..." even as the residents are exhorted to "watch for daily braveries/notice newfound courtesies/finger sudden legacies..." The song isn't a eulogy, it's the sound that does not simply memorialize, but opens a new chapter. Artists have always helped the rest of us make sense of upheaval, tragedy, tumultuous change, confusion and the darkness that often accompanies history. On Beauty & Crime, Vega accomplishes this in spades, but without any ideologies or with empty, overly simplistic ruminations or platitudes. Her grief is personal and so is her sense of gratitude, dignity, and love -- especially when it's hard. The opening words to "Ludlow Street," way back on track two, sum it up directly and may be the credo of the entire album: "Love is the only thing that matters/Love is the only thing that's real/I know we hear this every day/It's still the hardest thing to feel." Beauty& Crime is, without reservation, the defining creative moment of Suzanne Vega's career thus far, and a morally and emotionally communicative recording that instructs even as it confesses from inside, and reports from the margins and becomes, in its graceful impurity, a vision that is singular and utterly direct.
Musically, this is easily her most adventurous record ever; yet it is also more accessible than any album since her debut. The craft and care put into the songs themselves and their articulation by Vega and producer Jimmy Hogarth are amazing. Here, emotions are laid bare in places whether in the first, second, or third persons, but they are always placed inside elegant yet spare lyrics that are taut, poetic, and evocative. The dreamy soundscape contains layers of guitars, percussion (organic, electronic and live, in one case) strings, reeds, brass, and backing singers (including daughter Ruby Froom who appears on a couple of cuts, and KT Tunstall who appears once). But it's the sound of Vega's acoustic guitar on all these songs that is unmistakably at the top and provides the album's anchor. It's important to note this, simply because it keeps these beautiful pop songs rooted in a new kind of contemporary folk that Vega was a pioneer of in the '80s. And it keeps her rooted to her own catalog, from the beginning to the present. In other words, as she has experimented in the past with all kinds of sounds, she has forever remained herself and never more so than here, whether it's the jazzy, faux bossa nova of "Pornographer's Dream" or its predecessor, the stunning "New York Is a Woman." "Frank and Ava," is a rocking pop tune whose electric and acoustic guitars entwine, seemingly kissing, wrapped around a bassline played by Tony Shanahan from the Patti Smith Group. The deliberate interweaving of strings and her guitar on "Edith Wharton's Figurines" offers a glimpse of the late author's studied cool and dignity as it speaks from the voices of her characters to a songwriter who can see not only herself, but the anonymous millions of others living in and around New York City. "Bound," whose title is attended by a glimpse of Vega's wedding to poet and lawyer Paul Mills (who waited for her for 26 years), along with "As You Are Now," about her daughter (which also contain a photograph of its subject) are among the most nakedly personal songs she has ever written. "Angel's Doorway" is as pointed a musical vignette as one is likely to hear in a pop song. With electric guitars, a seemingly cheesy synth line, droning bassline, and sparkling acoustic guitar with the flat thud of the percussion offers its tonalities of the various voices of those in the city who have been snuffed out but live inside the subject.
The final track, "Anniversary," written a year after 9/11, opens with Vega's guitar skeletally framing her melody. It is the contemplative sound of a city that's gone on, changed forever yet forever itself, despite it being "thick with ghosts, the wind whips 'round its circuitries...as they meet you on each corner/meet you on each street..." even as the residents are exhorted to "watch for daily braveries/notice newfound courtesies/finger sudden legacies..." The song isn't a eulogy, it's the sound that does not simply memorialize, but opens a new chapter. Artists have always helped the rest of us make sense of upheaval, tragedy, tumultuous change, confusion and the darkness that often accompanies history. On Beauty & Crime, Vega accomplishes this in spades, but without any ideologies or with empty, overly simplistic ruminations or platitudes. Her grief is personal and so is her sense of gratitude, dignity, and love -- especially when it's hard. The opening words to "Ludlow Street," way back on track two, sum it up directly and may be the credo of the entire album: "Love is the only thing that matters/Love is the only thing that's real/I know we hear this every day/It's still the hardest thing to feel." Beauty& Crime is, without reservation, the defining creative moment of Suzanne Vega's career thus far, and a morally and emotionally communicative recording that instructs even as it confesses from inside, and reports from the margins and becomes, in its graceful impurity, a vision that is singular and utterly direct.
and as if that were not enough...
from musicOMH.com:
Over 20 years have passed since Suzanne Vega leapt from Greenwich Village storyteller to global superstar, and so she can now be accurately described as something of an elder stateswoman of folk. She may have been rather quiet for the last few years (her last album, Songs Of Red And Grey, was released way back in 2001), but she has remained a pioneering influence, recently becoming the first musician to perform live in the online world of Second Life.
Actions such as this, and her willingness to embrace dance music with the DNA remix of Tom's Diner in 1991, have meant that she's never become as stale as some of her contemporaries. Yet for her first release for legendary American label Blue Note, she's wisely stuck to what she knows best - indeed, this could almost be a continuation of the gentle folk of Songs Of Red And Grey, albeit with a huge gap inbetween.
As you'd expect from a songwriter so vividly associated with New York, and one whose last studio album was released in those hazy pre 9/11 days, there's a huge focus on how the city has changed in those 6 years. Anniversary is probably the most explicit statement on the tragedy, but there's an echo of 9/11 in many of these songs, from New York Is A Woman to the poignant Angel's Doorway.
Opener Zephyr And I also references 9/11, namely the "fireman's monument, where all the fatherless teenagers go". The tone is upbeat and optimistic, yet the lyrics are wistful, sad and poignant. Vocal harmonies by none other than KT Tunstall add to the slightly dreamy feel of the song. Edith Wharton's Figurines (and how's that for a quintessential Vega title?) is a typically complex study of female vanity, inspired by both the New York author and Olivia Goldsmith, the writer who died after complications arose from routine plastic surgery.
Like most of Vega's songs, the tracks here take their time to sink in. While the lovely melodies and Vega's hushed vocals make it perfectly good background music, to achieve the full effect you have to listen to those lyrics - she's one of the finest lyricists of recent times (more poet than songwriter in fact), and one who can just as easily write a love song for her daughter (As You Are Now) as study the turbulent relationship of Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardener (Frank & Ava) - and do both brilliantly.
Possibly the best example of Vega's lyrical mastery is New York Is A Woman, which perfectly casts the Big Apple in the role of a tough, strong woman - one that's taken a few knocks but is still standing. Lines like "she's every girl you've seen in every movie" impeccably convey the strange sense of familiarity you experience when you first set foot on the streets of Manhattan.
There's some decent variety of sounds here too, switching effortlessly from the dramatic string-backed Bound to the dance beats of Unbound, which recall her best work of 99.9F°. Sonic Youth guitarist Lee Ranaldo contributes some shimmering guitar riffs on Angel's Doorway, while the more traditional sound of Vega accompanied by an acoustic guitar can be heard on As You Are Now.
Some people may say that, in 2007 with its cast of feisty female singers, we don't really need Suzanne Vega, with her polite, literate music. Those people are wrong - the last 6 years have been a lot poorer for her absence, and it's good to welcome back one of the premier songwriting talents of this generation.
Actions such as this, and her willingness to embrace dance music with the DNA remix of Tom's Diner in 1991, have meant that she's never become as stale as some of her contemporaries. Yet for her first release for legendary American label Blue Note, she's wisely stuck to what she knows best - indeed, this could almost be a continuation of the gentle folk of Songs Of Red And Grey, albeit with a huge gap inbetween.
As you'd expect from a songwriter so vividly associated with New York, and one whose last studio album was released in those hazy pre 9/11 days, there's a huge focus on how the city has changed in those 6 years. Anniversary is probably the most explicit statement on the tragedy, but there's an echo of 9/11 in many of these songs, from New York Is A Woman to the poignant Angel's Doorway.
Opener Zephyr And I also references 9/11, namely the "fireman's monument, where all the fatherless teenagers go". The tone is upbeat and optimistic, yet the lyrics are wistful, sad and poignant. Vocal harmonies by none other than KT Tunstall add to the slightly dreamy feel of the song. Edith Wharton's Figurines (and how's that for a quintessential Vega title?) is a typically complex study of female vanity, inspired by both the New York author and Olivia Goldsmith, the writer who died after complications arose from routine plastic surgery.
Like most of Vega's songs, the tracks here take their time to sink in. While the lovely melodies and Vega's hushed vocals make it perfectly good background music, to achieve the full effect you have to listen to those lyrics - she's one of the finest lyricists of recent times (more poet than songwriter in fact), and one who can just as easily write a love song for her daughter (As You Are Now) as study the turbulent relationship of Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardener (Frank & Ava) - and do both brilliantly.
Possibly the best example of Vega's lyrical mastery is New York Is A Woman, which perfectly casts the Big Apple in the role of a tough, strong woman - one that's taken a few knocks but is still standing. Lines like "she's every girl you've seen in every movie" impeccably convey the strange sense of familiarity you experience when you first set foot on the streets of Manhattan.
There's some decent variety of sounds here too, switching effortlessly from the dramatic string-backed Bound to the dance beats of Unbound, which recall her best work of 99.9F°. Sonic Youth guitarist Lee Ranaldo contributes some shimmering guitar riffs on Angel's Doorway, while the more traditional sound of Vega accompanied by an acoustic guitar can be heard on As You Are Now.
Some people may say that, in 2007 with its cast of feisty female singers, we don't really need Suzanne Vega, with her polite, literate music. Those people are wrong - the last 6 years have been a lot poorer for her absence, and it's good to welcome back one of the premier songwriting talents of this generation.
too bad no one paid this record the attention it deserves. Anniversary is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. and i don't even like New York.
