Celebrating Lady Day: Billie Holiday is 100

The very first time I heard Billie Holiday, I was impressionable teenager and even without knowing anything about her notorious biography "Lady Sings the Blues" or the cinematic version of it, I was immediately smitten with music and that unforgettable, floating, dreamy voice coming out from another era. The album I got was just one of the countless compilations released after her death, this particular LP was published by "Everest Archive Of Folk & Jazz Music" and according to Internet it was 1983 so I must have been around fourteen. There was a cartoonish collage if Lady's famous face, Gardenia and all - very stylized, kind of gives you just idea what she looked like but no real human portrait. For one thing, judging by this cover you wouldn't even tell her skin color. I am aware of all this today but back than it served me very well because it send me away flying in daydreaming, there were countless afternoons spent alone with Lady. The very first song on that LP was her version of "My Man" - elegant piano introduction, than slowly her murmur emerges, very intimately and softly, a few seconds and you are hooked for life. The rest of the collection was hodgepodge - heartbreaking strings on "Lover Man" and "Don't Explain" next to much earlier "I Cover the Waterfront" and bouncy "Them There eyes", Duke's "Do Nothing Till You Hear From Me" and joyful "Swing, Brother Swing" - all of them in really  bad, muffled mono sound (I heard them in far better, clearer versions since) which of course made it even more precious to me (could this be the start of my obsession with old recordings?). It was magic and it is magic still - I have been listened Billie Holiday ever since and with occasional detours to different music genres, I always come back to my greatest loves. In fact, I don't even have to listen her music because it is so deeply etched in my heart.

Billie would have been hundred had she lived. Alas, she died only forty four (Elvis was forty two) and was arrested and fingerprinted on her deathbed in New York's hospital - a final escape from police, jail and life full of humiliations. It is very interesting to note how her name basically tells two different stories: Billie Holiday as a living, breathing person who was a top Jazz star of her times and internationally beloved by her fans, another Billie Holiday who emerges post-1959 as a myth and lives on ever since in recollections, music encyclopedias, movies, novels and tribute albums. Ask any Jazz singer and they will tell you they caught Billie bug sometime in their youth. Why Billie and not somebody else, after all there were literary hundreds of talented people during 1930s, 1940s and 1950s who worked in the same places, with same musicians and even performed same songs: could it be that her dramatic life story appeals far more than, for example, sunny and successful Ella? I think its actually combination of two factors: almost cinematic horror of sad, lonely and troubled life + beautiful, magical music that reflected it. 

What appealed to me back than - tragedy, racism, escape in alcohol and drugs, abusive lovers and so on - I see it little differently now with a cynical 40+ perspective but I understand that it created brilliant artist for whom music and singing was natural, instinctive cry of the heart. Had she lived different life, had she had protection of today's stars (producers, managers, hairdressers, fashion stylists), had she been pampered, she would have been different person - but she did it all herself, it was film noir all the way. I always get worked up when people associate Billie Holiday with that stupid movie, Gardenia and drugs - its all just an impression, there was so much more to her. Basically, you can find several different faces of same woman, if you care to do some research:

Columbia years: young, bouncy and happy Billie Holiday recorded for "Columbia" (1933-1942) and this is my favorite chapter. She was literary glowing in presence of best Jazz musicians and they created one masterpiece after another, often out from silly pop hits of the day. Commodore Records: this is when sassy nightclub singer turns into high art chanteuse, "Strange Fruit" being the moment when image took over the spontaneous joy of jam sessions. 

Decca Records: absolutely beautiful and classic, true film noir recordings from 1942 to 1950s. Here she is a torch singer of heartbreaking ballads. "Lover Man", "Don't Explain", "That Ole Devil Called Love" and such.

Verve Records and beyond: the most notorious chapter, I am not absolutely sure that I love this because it kind of damages my previous perception of Lady. Here she is already damaged beyond repair and slowly sinks in depression and despair. I know some people are fascinated with the sound of alcoholic junkie on these recordings and I always tell myself I will give them proper listening one day but I tend to gravitate towards younger, happier and sensuous self.

As you can feel from these lines, I am against public image of sad, boozy nightclub singer with Gardenia in her hair - it sounds like a good novel and there were many books written about her, but besides one-dimensional cartoon perception there is a beautiful music still lingering on. It is not something shared, hers is music of solitary pleasure when listener is alone with himself. Like some beautiful piece of art, her legend lives on and it will probably live much longer - original spark that started it all has gone decades ago (she has been dead longer than alive at this point) but it continues to touch and affect new listeners constantly. Happy Birthday, Lady, wherever you are.

Palermo

Europe, finally.

I had spent a winter in Caribbean and let me tell you - I know its a dream for many people, but once you see one tropical Island, you saw them all. It is magical escape from cold winter, however there is nothing really there except lots of gaudy tourist attractions, desperately poor natives selling trinkets, sand beaches and palm trees. No matter where you go, how far you go, its all copy & paste of the previous place. And since I sailed four months around Caribbean, I just couldn't wait until finally I step out in European ports where every day there is a new city waiting, new architecture, new food, different language, different people. And centuries of history behind every house.

It just happened that this year my ship is docked in Palermo for refurbishing - its officially called "dry dock" where for insurance reasons ship has to spend some time docked without passengers and all sorts of mechanics, carpenters, electricians and specialists are busy everywhere. Normally this is time for me and my team to do inventory but for the first time ever, lo and behold, we actually have time off to rest and do nothing. I just couldn't believe that I can go outside and have all the time in the world for myself without any obligations or time limits. I have been in Palermo hundreds of times but since I always have only few hours free, I could only explore parts close to the port and my impression was that this is a modern, dirty city full of skyscrapers, apartment blocks and garbage. If you ask me, I found Messina and Catania far more interesting and historical. The further I ever went was a square with a lovely theatre (Politeama theatre) and I always thought this is centre. 

Imagine my surprise where now finally I discovered there is a whole beautiful and exciting city behind the area I knew. In fact, it turned out skyscrapers, apartment blocks and garbage were only parts of port neighborhood and all this time I was just stuck in ugly part of town. Because this time I had all the time in the world, I threw myself into labyrinth of countless ancient streets and completely excited, fearless and curious I dived into completely unknown areas. First I walked trough neighborhood that probably looks the same for centuries, same tiny, dirty, shadowy streets with clothing lines decorating the skyline - this is how it looked centuries ago and how Italian neighborhoods looked in new world. Than I decided to find famous Palazzo Abatellis which I did even though I couldn't remember the name nor I knew direction - to my biggest surprise, my Italian was sufficent and voilá, I actually found the place. I just pointed at famous picture of Virgin on postcards and people pointed at the directions.

Palazzo Abatellis is impressive, fortress-like building dating from 15. century and it holds some of the most famous Renaissance works of art. I was excited as a child with the fact that I was able to found it completely by myself and without a map (and not even remembering the name of the place) so I dived in the world of ancient art - unfortunately it was a bit too religious for me, as expected, because past centuries in Sicily were not particularly focused on secular, it was mostly variations on Biblical motives, lives of saints and countless Golgotha, Pieta, Christ and Virgin Mary, mostly very discolored with age and some in a very bad shape (too dark with age to actually see them properly, some of these paintings really need cleaning immediately). However there is a very, very beautiful and famous "Virgin Annunciate" that I absolutely loved - I knew her from before and wanted to see her in real life, true beauty. She is museum's most famous piece but there is also a statue/bust of noblewoman Eleonora D'Aragona who was absolutely lovely and surprisingly modern, done by famous Renaissance artist Francesco Laurana who was born in what was a distant province Dalmatia, which nowadays is part of Croatia! And an excellent fresco with "Triumph of Death" that was a famous theme of medieval times, with plague and all.

After this museum I roamed ancient streets some more and found breath-taking fountain at Piazza Pretoria (all naked mythological characters, called Fontana Pretoria) and nearby two truly ancient churches dating from 11 century, next to each other - tower "Chiesa della Martorana" and tiny chapel called San Cataldo's Church where I felt completely at home, it looks and feels totally medieval and I took a seat inside, completely convinced that this is not my first time here. I finished my walk on a square looking at famous Teatro Massimo where Enrico Caruso sang (Verdi bust in the front) and I bought some Italian music in local CD shop (among some truly beautiful shirts, Palermo is full of classy shops with men's clothing - more than anywhere else I have ever seen in the world). Returned back to the ship totally sunburn and tired of walking, but excited and satisfied that I have finally discovered much more of this city.

Update:

Visit to a famous Palermo's Royal Palace, also known as "Norman Palace" that towers very impressively over the entrance. It is a monumental building that was built on a place where previously Arabs had their own 9th century palace - trough later centuries various powerhouses added and built more and more until now we have amazing collection of towers, chapels, stairways and floors from different rulers and kings. There is a huge staircase leading to upper floors with royal apartments (empty of furniture but still visible wall and ceiling decorations) and "The Palatine Chapel" that was world-famous even centuries ago.

This beautiful chapel looks & feel very medieval (I would say Byzantine) and it has quite spectacular decorations everywhere from the mosaic floors all the way up to the gilded ceilings, it is also relatively small compared to some later Gothic churches in Northern Europe, so the atmosphere is not of public place but more of a private worship, which probably it was meant to be. Its just amazing how much love, devotion and care was invested in daily religious life centuries ago.

Next stop was something I heard of but wasn't sure that I want to see it, Palermo's famous Catacombe dei Cappuccini. It is a underground place where for several hundreds of years locals would carefully display their dead relatives on the walls around the tunnels. Fully dressed, arms locked and all. I still didn't completely get the point of this, since I am from different background and we burry our dead in graves that we tend, clean and visit but we never open those graves to peek in, it would be considered disrespectful. Well, for some reason here in Palermo it was apparently quite prestigious thing to do and people buried (stored?) here were without exception from upper classes - priests, nuns, aristocrats, children and so - perhaps the idea was to display them and visit them, who knows? On the other hand, you can also visit the grave without actually looking at corpses, after all. In any case, curiosity got better of me and I found the place - which was in quite depressing part of town, by the way, the moment you step out of the New Gate it feels truly desolate and apocalyptic suddenly, even the air feels differently - and walked down into tunnels where I spent some truly unforgettably creepy time walking on the tombstones and surrounded with corpses on both sides - death is not pretty or dignified, everybody sooner or later falls aside with mouth gaping and there were some unforgettable empty eyes staring, children's faces and all. Its not that I am scared of death - its a natural part of life - but it is something we tend to put in the back of our minds and this macabre exhibition of death was sudden reminder that this is how we all are going to end. It was absolutely fascinating but I am not sure how do I feel about displaying these people like a tourist attraction, with ticket admittance - maybe it should be closed for public, but than it would probably fall in disrepair, this way it at least have some visitors who bring the money in. Or should this be closed and simply used as a graveyard? It dates to 16 century so these corpses are very old indeed, I feel they deserve to be left in peace. Right after this, I needed a drink immediately.

"Sergio Endrigo '65-'73" by Sergio Endrigo

Another Italian purchase, this is something I actually wanted for a long time and now decided to stop thinking about it and just go for it.

As title suggest, this is compilation of singles released between 1963 and 1973 which happened to be golden years of Italian singer/songwriter Sergio Endrigo who was one of the brightest talents of his generation. Italy had briefly enjoyed cultural renaissance during 1960s when everything Italian seems to have been huge fashion, including movies, music and cinema - amongst everything else, there were few arty guys who created impressive, poetic body of work wrapped in pop clothes, three minutes little dramas - Endrigo was one of them. Instead of going for usual, commercial sound, Endrigo and his buddies (Gino Paoli, Fabrizio De André, Luigi Tenco) wrote and performed seriously unforgettable little vignettes that actually glow even today, pure and timeless.

As singer Sergio Endrigo was instantly recognizable - he has a soft murmur of a voice, sensitive, soulful and intimate. Where other Italian singers competed in  vocal bravura, he was the shy one, therefore he would steal your heart even faster than someone who was showing off. I think hearing his "La Dolce Estate" and "Io Che Amo Solo a Te" won me over instantly years ago, so this purchase was completely spontaneous.

As singles go, there are lots of goodies here, mostly 1960s chestnuts like "Il treno che viene dal Sud", "Il Dolce Paese" and of course unforgettable San Remo classic "Canzone Per Te". The generous compilation offers lots of wealth to enjoy and explore, there are even some children songs (cute and funny, even though I am usually horrified with children choirs). Its impossible not to love Sergio Endrigo.

Interestingly, Endrigo inadvertently had a huge effect on neighbor Croatia (and therefore Yugoslavia) music scene, not because he was born in Croatia but because his style & music were crucial influence on young Arsen Dedić and his generation. Dedić clearly idolized Endrigo and modeled himself on Italian colleague and friend - he went on to became bard of local Croatian singer/songwriter genre, continuing what Endrigo started first. However, listening Endrigo in his first youth, its clear he was absolute original. As a songwriter he stands behind every single of these little masterpieces and he sings like a dream.

"Il Meglio di Gabriella Ferri" by Gabriella Ferri

Refreshing surprise and something completely left-field from usual pop avalanche in Italian music shops. Gabriella Ferri was completely unique artist and I am not even sure can we describe her as a pop singer, because she was mostly focused on arty re-interpretations of traditional folk songs, theatre and such.

At least this is what this compilation offers - very early beginnings of Ferri when she still performed with her friend Luisa De Santis and girls quickly made name for themselves with unusual, dramatic versions of traditional Roman folk songs. Friend soon dropped out and Ferri continued solo, her powerful, throaty voice far better suited to theatre than to pop songs (nothing pop here in this collection) which probably frustrated her because media is usually focused on pop festivals and starlets, not serious arty singers. What is collected here and is her musical legacy, are acoustic songs that to my ears sounds passionate, unusual and perhaps close to Portuguese Fado - something you might expect in a smokey bar, late in the evening. Ferri had decidedly unpolished, forceful attack of a voice and hers was not a delicate voice - a pirate woman, if I need to describe her. I found this absolutely fascinating music and because its so left-field, it has a huge appeal to me. Its a acoustic folk with a twist.

Highlight: "Le Mantelate"

"The Once and Future King" by T.H.White

It is not often that I make this claim, but this must be one of the best novels ever written. I don't ever recall this book being translated in Croatian when I was growing up and it has been a long time since it was originally published (starting in 1938) so it has been kind of forgotten now, except for cult fanatics who recommend it and swear on it - as it happened, I had this novel simultaneously recommended to me from different sides until I just couldn't ignore it anymore and decided to check what all the fuss was all about.

It is actually four books, published originally in 1938, 1939, 1940 and finally collected under the title "The Once and Future King" in 1958. It chronicles saga about rise and fall of King Arthur and his dream about different world where "right conquers the might". We are all familiar with Arthurian legend and Knights of the Round Table but this writer (Terence Hanbury White) gives the story such a beautiful, unexpected twist that I honestly think no one can ever forget it and once you read his version, everything else simply pales. This guy was a genius. Perhaps a mad genius, but genius nevertheless. He writes with a passionate imagination, than digresses to maddening degree and before you know it, goes on about medieval clothes, weapons, food, fashion and whatever pops in his head - than several pages later suddenly remembers where he started and goes back. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised that wonderful, absent-minded character of wizard Merlyn was based on author himself. Another thing is, T.H.White goes decidedly against accepted versions and creates his own Arhurian saga, where characters are original and definitely his own (Sir Lancelot, for example is not a beautiful knight but actually ugly man) - try to forget them, once you have read this.

The most famous of four parts is of course, "The Sword in the Stone" (1938) and deservedly so. It is a spiritual ancestor of Harry Potter with a poor, unloved boy being cared for by kind and eccentric magician (again, wonderful Merlyn with his shy owl) and it was later made even more world famous in Disney version. What Disney could never repeat was T.H.White's way with the story and how everything works out so magically - just like with "Hobbit", I was instantly hypnotized on a first page and just couldn't let go, until the end when my eyes teared up because the novel ended, I seriously got a lump in my throat and was very emotional at this point (although everything ended on a happy note). Honestly, I loved this first part so much that I think that I continued with other three parts because of this one.

"The Queen of Air and Darkness" (1939) suddenly takes a far more serious turn. From now on is all about grown-up Arthur and what dilemmas, doubts and philosophies crossed his mind as he decided to change the world and to create Camelot, with his brave knights who would live by strict rules of honesty and truth. It is a natural sequel but at the same time feels like a completely different novel, because suddenly here we are faced with far more serious approach and some unexpectedly adult food for thoughts. 

Just like in Arthurian legends, King Arthur slowly fades in the background and instead of being the main character, he now now gives spotlight to Sir Lancelot who is the main character in "The Ill-Made Knight"(1940) that is all about dangers rising from the Northern clan of Orkney aristocrats (kind of Scottish mafia, who constantly revenge each other and are determined to destroy peaceful Camelot. One of the ways to do so is to break Camelot in two by publicly shaming secret lovers (Lancelot and Guinevere) and demanding them to be punished. White very cleverly uses characters to address much bigger issues, story is so gripping and dark now that you can't believe this is the same book.

"The Candle in the Wind" (1958) is a culmination (or final destruction) of everything King Arthur and Camelot stands for. Since we all know the story, T.H.White re-tells it from different and unexpected perspectives, kind of second-hand witnesses or letters written about certain happenings. There is nothing lighthearted or funny here, this is all very serious and often philosophical. White might have been writing about King Arthur but he is actually writing about state of the world, human never ending attempts to rise above barbarity, serious issues. Revenge, peace, loyalty, kindness, truth and such. There is a very beautiful and unforgettable scene where elderly King Arthur know he and all the knights will be killed next day in a battle and he gently orders a young page boy to escape and remember Camelot so the idea of truth and honesty would not be forgotten. The whole book is so perfect that it just makes me weep.

I can hardly remember when was the last time a book moved me so much. 

T.H.White writing style is maddening because he goes off in unexpected directions so often that I wanted to scream "not again!" but you kind of get used to it because he creates such a unforgettable, lovable characters like King Pellinore (and his beast). I absolutely love this book and can't believe that it took me 46 years to discover it. I guess it could be read from many different perspectives - it is so multi-layered that you will notice different things at various stages of your life.

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“The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.”

"Phyllis Hyman" by Phyllis Hyman (1977)

Debut album by quite phenomenal soul-turned-disco singer from Philadelphia who in my opinion was one of the best voices around - even though she moved to New York, got "Arista Records" behind her and the whole army of supporting musicians behind her, Hyman never really made it to the very top of the music business, although insiders knew and respected her talent. I have discovered her by chance recently and was bowled over by natural strength, power, authority and beauty of her voice - it is very flexible alto, soulful and sincere, somewhere between Anita Baker and Whitney Houston but unmistakably original and instantly recognizable. 

Recorded at the height of disco fashion, album was produced and arranged in than current trend - all the tricks from the disco book you can think of - but what distinguishes it from countless other disco albums is above-the-average voice of Hyman, who clearly had far more imagination than usual suspects. Where other singers would simply follow instructions and meekly sing layers of dance and ballad numbers, Hyman adds her own ornamentations and decorations, showing that below the surface she was knowledgeable and determined artist who understood and gave much more than expected. If that voice don't immediately impress you, there are two interesting hits: chirpy "Loving You - Losing You" and soulful take on "Betcha By Golly Wow" (bonus track on my album, otherwise single recorded previous year). The rest of the album is more of the showcase and even though it does not grab immediately, upon repeated listening is a very rewarding experience because there are some truly good songs (Evie Sands!), excellent team of musicians and four producers involved - no expense spared here. It is one of those albums that actually sound better with time - at first I thought she was far above the material but now I have changed my mind and find countless thrilling little details. What a voice!

"The Beasts of Tarzan" by Edgar Rice Burroughs

Third part of Tarzan saga - its still very exciting read and no doubt audiences around the world were dying to find out what else was happening with Tarzan and Jane, but this feel slight, barely noticeable but present slip into formulaic cliche. I have a feeling Burroughs probably felt trapped in all this and perhaps he wasn't so inspired - in any case its not really so brilliant as previous two parts because it relies heavily on everything told earlier - Tarzan strength, his way with primitive warriors and wild animals, Russian enemies and so on.

"The Beasts of Tarzan" stars with Tarzan and Jane living comfortable life in London, but naturally there is old Russian enemy who apparently has no other things in life but to plot how to upset and revenge on Greystokes - the character of Nikolas Rokoff is cartoonish villain, to be honest, because we don't feel absolutely anything human about him, he is simply a awfully bad guy and his role is to be horrible. He manages to separate Greystokes and to get them back to African jungle where they - not knowing they are actually relatively close - fight for their lives and eventually get re-united. Tarzan arranges his own army of wild animals and wild warriors who help him trough his adventures. By far the most interesting character is panther Sheeta who actually behaves very uncharacteristic for wild beast - Sheeta is more like home trained cat, to be honest and even our own cats are not so loving and helpful as Sheeta (our cats are cuddly and curly only when it suits them) but never mind, it makes for a good reading. I did enjoyed it for what it is but at this I decided to take a break from Tarzan and perhaps I will return to other sequels at another time.

More Paul McCartney

"CHOBA B CCCP"(1988) by Paul McCartney 

Where McCartney goes back to Hamburg (spiritually) and tries to catch that flame that sparkled and inspired him decades ago. I get a serious feeling that he must have been a bit tired of radio-friendly pop music that industry demanded and chart success being elusive (even for an old cat like himself, who certainly knew highs and lows of the business) so this album was kind of reminder of what he loved about the music in the first place. 

Its all Rock'n'Roll covers and while in all honesty it doesn't bring anything new to them, you can feel McCartney enthusiasm and love for this music. Surely Lennon did it famously before and yes, guys have been playing this kind of music probably way back in Liverpool so these versions are pretty close to originals. You would be pressed hard to find anything remotely unusual or creative about these interpretations - its fine, professional, he sings it like he means it and at the end of the day its just another cover album that probably wouldn't even have been remembered if not for the fact that McCartney did it. From what I can understand it wasn't even meant to be internationally released. If this have been released as true Russian release back in 1960s it would have completely different effect, of course.

"Flowers In The Dirt"(1989) by Paul McCartney 

McCartney's collaboration with ubiquitous Elvis Costello, but I don't really hear Costello in here at all.

Contemporary reviews were very favorable and everybody was praising him, though honestly this is the first time I labored trough McCartney's album (or perhaps the trend started previously with "Press to play") because where earlier music just poured out of him, this time it feels artificial and endlessly polished to the point where there is nothing left from that wonderful spontaneity that was just so right and natural. Besides hit single "My Brave Face" and unexpectedly lovely "Distractions", the rest is one over-long, over-produced collection that seems to drag on forever and never ends. I would probably not even bother with listening the whole album if its not for the fact this is Paul McCartney, so I gave him a proper chance (or two) but I don't hear anything interesting here and it just meanders without focus.

"Tripping The Live Fantastic" (1990)

"Bon Soir, Paris!" greets slightly hoarse and excited McCartney his enthusiastic audience - it was a very successful world tour and it kept the old boy not only busy, but also showered with adulations and awards (Guiness record for largest concert audience, I believe). He might have been perceived as superficial one, but he was darn the most successful of all ex-Beatles. 

Its no so much different from previous live album ("Wings Over America") recorded some fourteen years ago, except that technically and production-wise this time everything is more bombastic and carried away with adrenalin, McCartney sounds seriously hoarser than ever. As back than, its also clear than his solo material seriously pales when compared to glory of totemic 1960s material: no matter how hard he tries to present his newest songs (from "Flowers In The Dirt") nothing really counts until Lennon/McCartney songs come along and than real celebration begins. Yes, he had some truly big hit as solo artist but he also had hard task to always be compared to his younger self - just listen to audience roar as "The Long And Winding Road" begins and you understand that McCartney knows this business. "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" actually sounds great in the concept of stadium arena - all blistering guitars and thundering refrains, same for most of classic Beatles repoertoire. I dare anybody not to at least tap the foot upon hearing "Can't Buy Me Love" or "I Saw Her Standing There" - basically its all great fun, but you can easily skip McCartney solo work and just focus on Beatles jukebox. 

"Liverpool Oratorio" (1991)

Contrary to classical music snobs who are always dismissive towards anybody else attempting to even glimpse in their precious sphere (and are highly critical even amongst themselves about merits of classically trained artists) I have no problems with artists crossing over to different genres: its refreshing to hear people doing something outside of the box. Strangely enough, it seems that classical artists doing other music fare much better than the other way around. Everybody takes a risk, classical artists usually being accused of selling out, pop artists getting criticized for being too pretentious. All the hell breaks loose when classical diva Anne Sofie von Otter sings "Money, Money, Money" or Jessye Norman goes Jazz - no matter how much fun they actually had while doing this. 

McCartney obviously took this as a challenge. He is not from this world, he was not classically trained and probably can't even read the notes, which did not prevent him from being the most famous and accomplished Liverpudlian in the whole world. The piece was commissioned and performed widely, despite negative reviews it had sold in huge quantities (nr.1 for weeks on charts) and locals probably love it more than anybody else. But is it any good?

Honestly, it is a gimmick and novelty. Despite monumental talents involved - and its all done with greatest care, production values are classy, with Liverpool Cathedral choir, classical conductor and Kiri Te Kanawa - it is too careful for its own sake, like composer was awed with the idea and took no risks in order to prove he was darn serious. Kind of autobiographical story, it has eight parts with countless short songs (usually shorter than two minutes) that are not particularly memorable and would probably have worked far better as part of say, musical. I couldn't help but thinking the whole time about "Les Miserables" - except that "Les Mis" bursts with brilliant show-stoppers and this one have not even one (by far most interesting moments are actually instrumental ones). Considering that longest piece is violin solo instrumental, perhaps McCartney should have just forget about singers and focus on instrumentals instead. I still like McCartney but here he curiously lacks that legendary golden touch with melodies and apparently he is far more skilled in pop field. Vanity project.

"Unplugged" (1991)

Actually this might easily be the most enjoyable McCartney's album in some time. Ever since 1983. "Pipes of Piece" I felt that he had lost his muse and it was either overcooked & overproduced hitless studio albums, bombastic live recordings or mind-boggling classical pieces so this return to a very simple acoustic form sounds truly like a breath of fresh air. 

For one thing, because he is not a stadium stage, McCartney don't have to shout himself hoarse but can actually sing quite nicely. Because this is a small, intimate concert and not a usual greatest hits recapitulation, he had a freedom to built a repertoire from various corners - his very first song (written when he was 14), The Beatles, Gene Vincent, Bill Withers, Bill Monroe and everything that popped in his head. Free from all usual technical wizardry, most of these songs sound wonderfully sweet when played in acoustic version, its almost like coming home - my heart really bursts every time I hear old 1960s chestnut "San Francisco Bay Blues" which has always been one of my favorite pieces of music (Eric Clapton did it again, next year on his own "Unplugged" album) and this all works so well that it makes you wonder why did he bother with all that other music at all. Everything from McCartney's chatter between songs to music itself is delightful. The most unexpected however is his return to some forgotten songs from a 1970. solo debut - they tend to be overlooked next to greatest hits, but are truly good to hear again. It actually sends you back to that album.

"Off the Ground" (1993)

Unfortunately, lovely, quirky "Unplugged" turned out to be completely unusual little stop in McCartney's now already voluminous solo discography - before you know it, he is back to usual bombastic production and just like "Flowers in the Dirt" (1989) its all shiny cellophane covering not a very substantial product. It sold a truckloads in Germany but it did not set a world on a fire. I remember fluffy, peppy ""Hope of Deliverance" being played on the radio and on closer inspection there are not many songs that actually stand out - to me it sounds like watered-down "Flowers in the Dirt" and that album I had considered uninspired. 

"Get Out Of My Way" and "Biker Like An Icon" are fun moments and "C'mon People" is vintage McCartney copying himself, but nothing seriously stands out. I gave this album so many chances that now after all this time I must admit defeat, even with best intentions I hardly remember anything.

"Paul Is Live" (1993)

Seriously, another live album? It has not been so long since "Unplugged" (1991) and "Tripping The Live Fantastic" (1990), not to mention that other triple LP album back in 1970s so now we are really facing the cornucopia of live recordings that basically cover very much same ground. I can't find any major difference between these recordings (except the fact that "Unplugged" was stripped-down and charming, while others are big stadium bombastic) and as much as I like McCartney, this is really for die hard fans and collectors only. I guess fine if you were there, but the rest of us can live with originals. Ah yes, just as expected, new songs are completely overshadowed by 1960s classics which makes this truly an nostalgia act. "Hope of Deliverance" is exception here, this little cheerful ditty actually sounds like fun when standing next to older songs.

"Flaming Pie" (1997)

It has been 16 years since last McCartney album I truly enjoyed - so no wonder that I seriously started to doubt is it worth following his work, as it just did not appeal to me anymore. Guy has such magnificent back catalogue that it towers above almost everything he did afterwards and great sales, world tours and live albums are basically just an afterthought, the autumn of a long, long career. Four (count: four) mediocre studio albums later, with dabbling into classical music and soundtracks, I started to get tired of my own expectations that he might "return to form" because what does it actually means - artist constantly grows and changes, so what we might like is probably long behind him already. "Flaming Pie" is fortunately return to melodic pop of 1970s and therefore relatively easy-listening, except the fact that it is look back - which means it was all done before, hundreds of times. However, it IS far more enjoyable than anything he had recorded in years so even if he firmly doodles in his comfort zone, it is still a warm, fuzzy and feel-good collection. But to my ears this sounds like Tom Petty.

"Run Devil Run" (1999)

Collection of 1950s Rock covers. 

It actually sounds like a great fun, thundering guitars, pounding pianos and all. Sure, McCartney already recorded the whole album worth of similar material back in 1988 but this one sounds even better - he is energized with the presence of some old colleagues, clearly loves this kind of music and free from pressure of writing original songs, he roars like excited schoolboy who suddenly got a chance to sing and impress everybody. There are few originals but focus is mainly on old chestnuts and believe me, "All Shook Up" is worth the price of the album alone - whatever private sorrows McCartney experienced between four walls, he clearly uses music as life-affirming, healing and self-assuring tool to dust himself up and continue trough this life. Somebody else would sink into depression and mop around, but McCartney cheers himself with irresistible, happy ditties like "Movie Magg" and "Brown Eyed Handsome Man" which in itself is very interesting and points at artist inner core. Hidden somewhere inside are cracks: "No Other Baby" and "Lonesome Town", impossible to listen without understanding reality behind this album. 

"The Return of Tarzan" by Edgar Rice Burroughs

The first and classic part of Tarzan saga is the one that everyone remembers - Tarzan growing up in a jungle, raised by Apes and fighting his way around the wildlife, meeting Jane and so on. All the movies, cartoons and various media representations usually focus on this part of the story but its definitely not the only one - it success prompted Burroughs to write many sequels and even though occasionally he might have been sick of doing the same thing, it made his name familiar, his wealth enormous, his fame international. Apparently he also continued writing completely different adventure stories set in fantasy genre but so far I am not familiar with them. However racist and strange original Tarzan story might appear to modern readers, it was still exciting and enjoyable enough to continue my exploration of Tarzan universe so I decided to read some more. Although I am definitely sure that I read those in my childhood, I don't remember them at all.

"The Return of Tarzan" is actually far more exciting and adventure packed than its precedent - once Burroughs set the stage in the original story, now he just continued in the much better, far more polished style. For one thing, we were left with Tarzan silently leaving his beloved Jane in hands of another man and keeping the secret of his aristocratic background (and wealth) hidden from everybody. And what was than just casual but we today perceive as racist attitude towards other skin colors is not so obvious here - in fact, nomadic Arab tribesmen are described as brave and noble. This time around we find Tarzan in Paris enjoying highly sophisticated life, getting entangled with some nasty Russian characters, being employed as secret agent and ending up on shores of Africa - and this is just a beginning. It goes really a roller-coaster from here, with hidden mysterious city of Opar (whose ancestors are hinted to have been from Atlantis) and never ending action - its by far superior to first part, once the reader gets his head around the first part where Tarzan lives in Paris. Its really very enjoyable adventure novel so I immediately went on with a sequel.

"Tarzan of the Apes" by Edgar Rice Burroughs (1912)

Just when I felt that my daily life became unbearable routine, a strange health scare shook me up a bit and during my several days of recovery the only literature I could think of as comforting was something easy - I browsed my e-book library in search of some familiar title from children's books and decided to find a escape in "Tarzan". Which turned out a brilliant, great escapism.

Edgar Rice Burroughs - who by the way, was born on the same day as me - was struggling writer who tried his luck in pulp fiction of the time and struck the gold with this story. For some reason, it really found enormous audience around the world because it was so exciting - not entirely original, mind you, because "The Jungle Book" touched very much similar subject some two decades earlier - and everybody loved adventures of a noble savage who was such a superman, strong, muscled, agile, handsome and good-hearted at the same time. It was a excellent choice for me, because I got completely lost in the book and forgot about my health troubles but it was also interesting because now I was reading it from a different perspective of middle-aged person familiar with the story. This time naturally, I noticed nuances that were beyond me previously - Burroughs might have been pulp fiction writer but he consciously used very elegant, classy style (therefore he was actually very much above the rest of competition), some of his sentences and ideas are a bit rusty and creaky now (inheritance of class for one, Tarzan is noble and wonderful because he has aristocratic blood in his veins), there is a certain xenophobia between the lines and native Africans are without exception all savage cannibals. None of this in any way spoiled the pleasure and excitement in reading a thrilling story, because it is truly very enjoyable romp, but this time I was aware of it, while as a kid I couldn't tell these things.

Interesting thing is how our perception of Tarzan had changed with time, apparently he (or this particular story, because there is a whole saga later) became such a well-known public persona that later translations (movie, radio, comics and such) very much erased parts of original story and focused on the frame: baby boy raised by ape mother, later Jane and fights with wild animals. Author's original musings about aristocratic blood making his hero so noble, racial issues and all between-the-lines, now suspiciously old fashioned statements were slowly corrected and whitewashed. If you know Tarzan only from the Disney reincarnation, original novel comes as a great surprise. I enjoyed it very, very much and even went on with a sequel that I'm reading right now at the moment, but apparently this is the most popular part of the story.

"The Great Dictator" by Charlie Chaplin (1940)

By contrast, I did not found "Great Dictator" funny at all - back than, cinema audience roared with laughter because Chaplin was poking fun at Hitler and Mussolini and it was a very brave public statement indeed, coming from world's biggest comedian, it seems everybody loved it and it was hugely successful but to be honest, once Chaplin got really engaged into making real politicians (thinly disguised but recognizable) the part of his universal charm and magic was gone for me. This was labored, artificial and plainly anti-German propaganda. Where earlier movies with "Little Tramp" worked so wonderfully on many different levels, this was something done with a determination and its own agenda - anti-war and anti-army I suppose, which in itself sounds very nice and idealistic but is unfortunately it is done very ham-fisted (including final monologue) so I had a constant gnawing feeling this is not a comedy at all, but a Charlie Chaplin anti-German propaganda effort. Yes, there are some funny moments but its all a very broad slapstick, mugging, face-making, grimacing, cake-in-the-face, pot-in-the-head and many 1920s tricks that now look obsolete. Main problem for me is that earlier Charlie Chaplin masterpieces were silent movies and this is the first time he works with dialogue, which don't feel like Chaplin movie at all - I don't have a feeling that he had brilliant script and most of the time its Chaplin clowning around with his than-wife Paulette Goddard - considering seriousness of the real-life story, I just found the whole Jewish Ghetto part of the film very superficial and lightweight. I understand this was American movie for American audiences, made at times when truth about Holocaust was not universally known and everything was just hearsay (how about thousands of Jewish immigrants who escaped certain death in Europe?) but still it feels immature. I understand Chaplin's heart was in the right place and he condemns folly of few greedy, war-passionate politicians in his own way, making them look foolish but WW2 was a horrible, dark and tragic chapter and knowing this, I can't laugh out loud about it - perhaps it is the first-class anti-war propaganda but I don't find it even close to brilliance of his earlier works. Once artist leaves his universal appeal and focuses on particular agenda, it is not magical anymore, its just a well crafted product with a message. 

"Modern Times" by Charlie Chaplin (1936)

After ten years of sailing, I have found myself smitten with some weird disease, symptom of which is a permanent Vertigo - something from inflated ear infection, probably - being unable to work and locked up in my windowless cabin, I spent three drugged days being completely dizzy from seasickness pills doctor insisted would help my condition: they didn't, but I slept non-stop. When I finally woke up from my stupor, I read Bill Bryson and browsed my movie collection - strangely, nothing appealed to me because I kind of forgot about movies completely and found them childish. One thing that seemed fairly appropriate for someone who can't hear very well and should not use headphones were silent movies.

This is where I decided to have a look at Charlie Chaplin and his famous "Modern times" - we are all familiar with scenes in a factory but honestly there is much, much more happening later and it truly surprised me that film turns into a such epic saga. Another example of things I just assumed I know. It charmed me instantly, of course, because Chaplin was a true genius and magician - his creation, "Little Tramp" is easily understood to anybody no matter what background and we love him dearly, for all his sweetness, clumsiness and old heart. This story apparently happens in Metropolis-like factory where work, machines and buttons are parodied mercilessly until we (audience) roar with laughter - I was honestly surprised that something filmed almost a century ago was still so fresh and funny. Basically, everything after the first start on the fast track was new to me and I laughed and laughed, until I found myself rewinding scenes and enjoying them again. What a genius!

Once Little Tramp looses his job - there is a whole unspoken atmosphere of unfairness, poverty and depression around - he quickly ends up in a prison, from which he doesn't even want to leave. However, he gets Cocaine in his salt, (Charlie Chaplin on a Coke!), saves policemen from escaped criminals, meets minister's wife (very funny scene) and gets release from the prison, with job recommendation letter. And this is still just a beginning of the movie! There is much, much more coming up later - it really goes on forever but its wonderful, heart-warming and joyous to watch. I almost forgot everything about myself and my whereabouts while I was so deeply lost in this masterpiece. Film is so immensely rich with characters, stories, little details and magic that I honestly think its one of the best things I have ever seen. 

"Notes from a Small Island" by Bill Bryson

This is a five star classic of humorous travelogue and it deserves all the praise heaped on it, Bill Bryson's reputation and success is build on it.

I have been cautiously flirting with Bill Bryson's books for some time now and they never ceased to amaze me, make me laugh, snort, growl and in general produce all sorts of animal noises. This time I actually had to take a break, wipe away my tears of laughter, catch my breath and than I could return to the book. Honestly, I think guy is hilarious - apparently there is no subject in the world he won't touch and best of all is his self-mocking humor where you can clearly see this is someone who doesn't take himself too seriously. 

"Small Island" from the title is of course UK and Bryson takes adventurous trip with train/bus trough all the places on his map - not just big, world-famous places like London, but trough many of completely obscure industrial towns that used to prosper decades ago but now are slipping silently into rust. Bryson makes a point of obsessively trying to find something unique or positive about them, often coming to conclusion that many of these places look very much alike, thanks to big shop chains that grace UK and besides another shopping centers it seems that cities have lost their originality and what made them unique in the first place. Its extremely funny - I started with a polite smile and ended with a roar - but I understand that people who understand and love this might be either British or in some way connected with UK, otherwise the jokes and innuendos might be lost on other readers. I used to live in London so naturally this definitely hit home immediately as I could recognize and understand what was he talking about. Just wonderful. 

Boba Stefanović

Serbian singer Boba Stefanović passed away at 69 and this is my little heartfelt tribute to him.

Of course I never met the guy, in fact I was not really familiar with his music until way too late - his peak happened in early 1970s when I was still just a toddler and I discovered him some twenty years later, as sudden enthusiasm for old Ex-Yu music coincided with my move to Amsterdam. I am not sure would this happen otherwise (and it might, since I really always loved those old pop festival records even before I moved) but from a safe distance everything sounded far more interesting than I remember and suddenly I was really into those old single and EP recordings that otherwise my generation considered terribly tacky, kitschy and uncool. 

I clearly remember when I heard Stefanović for the first time: via Internet I had ordered some compilation of 1970s pop singers (I still have it somewhere) and he was one of them, gently and seductively crooning "Živim tako sam" and "Kažu mi da još si uvek sama" which truly hit me like a brick - not only that music was sophisticated and well arranged, but the guy sung like a dream and it was so sincere, gentle and seductive at the same time that knees buckled. Than I asked around and found out that this was typical reaction on his voice way back than when he was popular - because of this voice, he was kind of sex symbol in his time. Even now, every time I hear these songs, something inside me is moved profoundly although I am trying to rationalize this and remind myself this is just a funny old-fashioned pop music and why would I get so wobbly suddenly, but it does floor me every time no matter what I say.

Boba Stefanović - according to informations on Internet - was one of those early 1960s enthusiastic Rockers who played in beat band (""Zlatni Dečaci" who played surf instrumental cover versions of classics) before turning to serious job & family. Except that actually serious job became a hobby (painting) and hobby (music) became serious - for a time in early 1970s he-who-was-skinny-as-mosquito-but-sang-like-a-lion truly became Serbian biggest music heartthrob. His well worn out singles from roughly 1970-1975 sound like a product of their times, lavishly orchestrated, always balancing on verge of kitsch, often weeping in self-pity (heartbreak, loneliness and such) but oh voice, you don't even care for lyrics as long as Boba sings. I know that this sounds ridiculous but he might be only singer in the world who makes me feel like infatuated teenage girl.

There's not much of his discography - handful of singles and two LP records to my knowledge - and he seems to live dreamer's life, not overtly ambitious or running after either fame or money. Listening to this CD compilation brings back all the emotions and memories - real, imagined - not just for me but for the several generations of music lovers who are dangerously close to being middle-aged at this point: as we age, our idols are getting older and the realization that everything - music, fame, success, our lives - is a ripple in time slowly looms over everything. Never more than when we find out that our beloved music Gods had passed away - what actually stay behind and would future generations care at all? Stefanović's music was much loved and heard in his time but he was just a short chapter on ever-changing music scene and he never achieved or continued that first early 1970s flush of success (Zdravko  Čolić quickly replaced him as poster pin up pop star) - thankfully there is some irresistible, romantic music left behind (along with some duds, but never mind) and you know, it might be nostalgic but is also darn enjoyable listening. Approximately half of disc is lost to weepy, waltzy ballads of its time but thankfully the voice raises above the 1970's production. 

"Porin" for "Dnevnik jedne ljubavi"

"Porin" is Croatian equivalent of "Grammy" and this year a special award will be given to a cult album released in 1973. and constantly in print ever since. I have written about "Dnevnik jedne ljubavi" (Diary of one love) on this blog several times previously and it thrills me that 40 years after its original release it still creates excitement, inspires and lives on.

Since Croatia became independent country, what once used to be large music market of Ex-Yugoslavia had shrunk considerably - where musicians previously commanded attention and audiences across the territory that spread from Alps in the North (Slovenia) all the way down to border with Greece (Macedonia) and being superstar in those times meant your albums are played and admired widely trough different places, separation and independence of borders had drastically limited not only market but also influence. Today's stars and wannabes might be known only locally but hardly anybody will know about them across the border and vice versa. Now when Croatia, Serbia and all their neighbors are strictly separated, there are really just a handful of seriously big names who can perform everywhere, this is why Croatian "Porin" seems a bit self-congratulatory since it is a tiny market based on capitol and few provincial towns - every year it feels like choice for awards is a struggle because music activity is either live concert performances or compilations and re-issues. 

Even without "Porin", creators of "Dnevnik" were highly esteemed and congratulated for decades: composer (late Karlo Metikoš) went on to collaborate with lyrics writer Ivica Krajač on two rock-operas, while singer Josipa Lisac continued from strength to strength ever since without ever seriously being challenged as our own Croatian Rock Queen. So even though it is nice that this album is recognized for its historical importance and awarded with special "Porin" as official masterpiece it always was, more than ever its obvious that nobody ever followed or dared to surpass this example even as inspiration - more than anything else, "Dnevnik" was all-star collaboration between the whole bunch of talented and enthusiastic musicians, something that apparently never happened again in a business overshadowed with egos, producers and financial speculations. Musicians still collaborate but on much smaller scales and hardly ever you have sense they play for the sheer joy of music as they played on "Dnevnik" that was created without any serious planning how to sell the product later - Metikoš was famously quoted as saying that he wrote it as something to be proud of, not thinking about sales. And this is why it stands tall as highly respected and yes, awesome masterpiece from start to finish, one of rare Croatian pieces of music that could have been recorded in San Francisco, Memphis or London, not our simple recording studios of Zagreb's "Jugoton".

Since Metikoš and Krajač put her on pedestal way back than, Josipa Lisac never really had a competition which in itself turned into a problem because she might have flourished differently if other girl singers showed little bit more ambition and imagination, so there would have been somebody to raise the bar of challenge. The way things turned out was that 99% of girl singers were almost without exception satisfied with soft crooning, cheesecake TV family entertainment (pop festivals and such) so Lisac - who was always highly individual and peculiar performer - became more and more isolated in her divadom, until now she seems like intimidating reminder that once, long ago we actually had seriously talented musicians instead of bunch of amateurs who are giving awards to each other. More than ever I feel sorry that she was not born elsewhere because she is and always was a singer of world's class, surrounded and crippled with mediocrity.