Singleversity #57

Audiversity’s weekly column on music we stumble across during our sonic adventures. No random numbers, just straight audio goodness.

MA:



The Italian composer Ennio Morricone is a daunting figure to explore. His scores and soundtrack work is thought to number as many as five hundred individual films, which as you would imagine, covers quite a bit of stylistic diversity. That being said, diving into Morricone’s discography at any one point will only give you a very narrow window of his talent… But! You have to start somewhere, so let’s cover our eyes and do just that.

A couple weeks ago I stumbled upon the soundtrack to the erotic Italian psycho-thriller Barbablù. Released in 1972, Morricone was at the downside of his work with Sergio Leone, but the spaghetti Western sound still dominated his aesthetic. As a whole, the Barbablù soundtrack is quite eclectic with as many passages focused around a 20s big band jazz sound as they are breezy orchestral pieces. The quintessential number has to be “Barbablù (Titoli)” though. Simultaneously ominous and quirky, it doesn’t sound too far removed from the spaghetti Western sound – especially in terms of production tone and instrumentation – though it is decisively more European bent. The staccato piano lines and sashaying woodwinds mostly remind me of contemporary Jon Brion scores, which may allude to the modern vibe. There is just something so captivating about the crunch of the brass(?) in contrast with the pulsing strings during the chorus that if played during the title sequence of the film, I would be completely immersed from the onset. With a title track so intriguing and a cover so evocative, it’s no wonder Barbablù is a cult classic of underground cinema.


PM:



Chicago's Cable Access Networks are, like cable access networks anywhere, full of curious programs produced by amateur locals ranging from educational to entertaining to downright bizarre, sometimes all three at once. CAN-21 was no exception on a recent Sunday when I came across "Haiti Jeunesse" ("Young Haiti"), a show conducted almost entirely in French and Creole. RAM's "Defilé" featured here is one of the songs I saw on the brief music segment. The story behind this group is fascinating, a politically charged Rasin ensemble now nearly two decades old that withstood the worst Raoul Cédras and his junta could conjure... But this is worth checking out as much for its party-like atmosphere as for the band's back-story or the video's crazy get-ups. Also, wait for the keyboard solo: Dude in the tree totally sells it.