Commercial-isms: Willie Nelson Covers Coldplay for Chipotle
September 9, 2011
Over his more than half-century-long recording career, there are few great American songs of any genre that Willie Nelson hasn’t touched (and few American artists that he hasn’t directly collaborated with). So why wouldn’t he collaborate with a restaurant chain, on one of the biggest British rock hits on the last ten years?
Still, it was sort of a surprise to find among the newly available mp3 downloads on Amazon this new Willie Nelson track, a cover of Coldplay’s 2002 single “The Scientist”, accompanied by very un-Willie-Nelson-ish thumbnail art of animated pink pigs in what looks like a pig penitentiary.
A quick search and I found that the track actually serves as the soundtrack for an animated short – oh, whatever, it’s really just a commercial for the Chipotle Mexican Grill restaurant chain – called “Back to the Start”, which demonstrates (rather cutely) how industrial agriculture has led us to despair, and how organic farmers (in partnership with Chipotle Mexican Grill!) can lead us to bright colors and wonderfulness again: Think Farmville meets Koyaanisqatsi, only really short, really adorable, insidiously corporate, and no Phillip Glass. It’s all good until the brand messaging starts to kick in. Luckily, Willie Nelson’s performance not only stands well on its own, you can also enjoy it without having to watch Chipotle pander so shamelessly to your Inner Slow Food Locavore. Go download it now.
I’m Just Not That Into Mumford & Sons
August 2, 2011
Okay. It’s been about a year since I first heard Mumford & Sons. I remember seeking out “Little Lion Man” after reading a little blurb about it, and thinking it sounded like a great song. I downloaded it right away, but, to my surprise, it turned a bit stale on repeated listens. Their follow-up “The Cave”, despite its strangely moving video, has only marginally better replay appeal. Despite all that, I did download a copy of the group’s debut full-length Sigh No More when Amazon.com offered it at a steep discount. I have probably played it a couple of times, but… ehh. There’s nothing about the album itself that makes me crave it. What’s worse, when I hear their songs on the radio, they’ve started to grate on my nerves.I don’t necessarily hate their music. Hate is such a strong term, best reserved for the truly loathsome, and frankly, once I go on record as “hating” an artist – The Dave Matthews Band, for instance – they inevitably release a single (“Funny The Way It Is”), or even a whole album album (Big Whiskey and the Groo Grux King), that makes me have to eat my words. I don’t love the Dave Matthews Band, but I do love that damn album. And I don’t hate Mumford & Sons. I’m just not that into them.
Yet?
I have to admit: this is a band I tried really hard to like. This is a band I feel on some instinctual level I should be in love with. The same way I fell in love with The Avett Brothers a couple years ago. I feel like I may have failed Mumford & Sons as a listener. And the surprised looks on my music-fan-friends’ faces when I express my semi-embarrassing, clearly minority opinion of the band only serves to reinforce that feeling of failure. Where did I go wrong? What am I not hearing in this music that so many of my friends seem to love?
And then I start to think that maybe it’s not a personal failing. Maybe I’m just not convinced by the band’s “authenticity”. Am I the only one who hears a gimmick – or even a small, made-to-be-charming collection of them – in every Mumford & Sons song? All the various anachronisms in their music and presentation, starting, of course, with the band’s very name, intended to evoke the old family business (are they in music, or haberdashery?), and extending to Marcus Mumford’s faux-Appalachian rasp and the music’s sepia-toned arrangements feel like a dusty collection of folksy figurines lined up behind the glass of an antique shop china closet. But closer inspection reveals that they aren’t really dusty – they’ve just been painted to look that way. Listening to Mumford & Sons feels to me like listening to a cassette tape shoved into the back of one of those replica Victrola turntables you get at Sears.
Then again, maybe it’s just that the songs aren’t that great, and don’t hold up well.
This past weekend, while on a family road trip, we stopped for a picnic lunch in a Clinton, Missouri park. There in the park, two Amish teenagers had set up a shelter where they were selling various baked goods. I went over and bought a plate of pecan caramel cinnamon rolls that looked fantastic – it had been so long since I’d had a really fantastic pecan caramel cinnamon roll – and y’know, these particular pecan caramel cinnamon rolls were baked by actual people – Amish people, even. They had to be great, right? But when we actually opened them, they were sort of tough and dry and sad. No question there was a certain level of joy involved in my purchase. But that joy vanished in the actual eating to the point where a QuikTrip donut would have been preferable.
And so it may be with Mumford & Sons. Maybe, with pop music sounding more and more automated and computerized, less melodic and more rhythmic, we crave the sound of actual human fingers plucking the actual strings of actual musical instruments – especially those indigenous to our pioneering forefathers – and we crave the sound of genuine imperfect human voices singing actual verses and choruses so much that we’re willing to pretend that replica Victrola is the real deal, and that the cassette we’re listening to is really an old-timey 78 we dug out of the bins at St. Vinnie’s.
So Lucky! Paul’s Top 10 of the Eurovision Song Contest 2011
May 29, 2011
After months of watching the finalists compete, after watching the votes come in, and watching the losers get eliminated, the competition has ended, the votes are in, and a winner – cue the confetti – has been announced. And the winner is… Azerbaijan. Yes, yes, I know, this week was the final week of the American Idol competition, but last weekend marked the finale (or rather Grand Final) of a much bigger, far cheesier affair: the annual Eurovision Song Contest.When I was a kid and first heard about Eurovision, I was terribly jealous of Europe. It sounded wonderful: a sort of Miss Universe, only instead of women competing in swimwear, it was pop songs competing in foreign languages. Unlike American Idol, it’s not the singer that counts in Eurovision so much as the nation represented by a single 180 second pop song.
I’ve long been familiar with some of Eurovision’s more notable success stories (of which, despite a 50-plus-year history, there are startlingly few). There’s ABBA, of course, who won for Sweden in 1974 with their song “Waterloo”. Later on, Switzerland recruited a 19-year-old French-Canadian former child star name Celine Dion to represent them in 1988. After she won that year’s contest with the song “Ne partez pas sans moi” (“Don’t Leave Without Me”), she came back to perform her winning song for the opening of the 1989 Grand Final, taking the opportunity to debut her first English language single “Where Does My Heart Beat Now” which became her first U.S. hit. And though Gina G didn’t win Eurovision, her Eurovision song for the UK “Ooh… Ahh… Just a Little Bit” became one of the great dance hits of the 90s.
But I’d never actually seen the contest, which culminates annually in one marathon live broadcast seen by an international audience that would make the Super Bowl cry. That is until I found out last year that you can actually watch the show on the Eurovision website. So last weekend, I spent some quality time with the internet, and by extension, the kerjillion people packed into a Dusseldorf stadium to watch the finalists perform, to experience my first ever Eurovision.
While I learned that I really have nothing to be jealous of Europe over – the Grand Final is a long, cheesy slog that should be enjoyed after much alcohol and preferably in the company of Graham Norton (who does the commentary for the British broadcast) – it was still everything I’d always dreamed it would be. Like Miss Universe, the competitors of Eurovision have been done up for maximum immediate impact – big costumes, big fog machines, big inspirational messages and more bright-eyed and earnestly delivered gibberish singalong choruses than a three day marathon of Wiggles episodes – but nothing with much of a shelf-life. That said, last year’s winner, a song called “Satellite” by Lena Meyer-Landrutt (she’s just Lena now), was actually a credible pop song that became a pretty huge summer hit in Europe.
With Germany turning to Lena once again for this year’s competition (with a darker, and even cooler song called “Taken by a Stranger”), one of the ceremony’s hosts, Stefan Raab (a German mash-up of Seacrest, Fallon, and Gervais, who also co-wrote both of Lena’s entries) took to the stage to perform a Brian Setzer-ized arrangement of “Satellite” as the evening’s opening number, proving that some Eurovision songs can actually have a life after Eurovision. It does happen.
This year, 43 countries entered songs into competition. 25 songs made it to the Grand Final (10 each from 2 Semi-Final rounds, plus entries from permanent finalists Spain, Italy, France, Germany and the UK). And following are my ten favorite performances from this year’s Grand Final. But first, an honorable mention that didn’t make it to this year’s Grand Final. From Portugal, here’s the group Homens da Luta (People of the Struggle) doing “Luta e Alegria” (“The Struggle Is Joy”). I’m not sure how ironic this performance is (apparently, the group first appeared on a Portuguese comedy/variety show – but they seem awfully earnest), but I imagine that if the city of Madison were able to enter the Eurovision contest, our 2011 entry would look a little like this – the Village People as a folk protest act:
#10 – Serbia: “Caroban” by Nina
For a long time, there was a rule that competitors had to perform their entries in their native language, but this rule handicapped a lot of countries in a couple of ways. One: pop music just sounds better in English. Two: there are more people who speak, say, English, or French, or German than speak Romansch or Magyar, thus more people who might more easily relate to (and consequently vote for) England or Ireland’s entry by default over Hungary’s. Since the native language rule was repealed in the late 90s, the contest has seen an increasing number of Eastern Bloc finalists and winners. Typically, each country has its own contest to determine their Eurovision entry, and for these contests, the songs will usually be performed in their native language – and then get translated to English for the Eurovision Semi-Finals and Finals.
Serbia was one of the few countries who dared to go native into the Semi-Finals, and why not? The song itself isn’t necessarily all that memorable, but the staging of it, like a Balkan Dusty Springfield on the Ed Sullivjanka show, easily transcends any language barrier.
#9 – Russia: “Get You” by Alexej Vorobjov
One of the most common (and boring) gripes about Eurovision is that, musically, it’s hopelessly out of touch with whatever’s going on in the moment; that it’s like the Grammy’s favoring Jethro Tull over Metallica in 1992 or Steely Dan over Eminem in 2001. But Russia’s 2011 entry is very 2011 for being a Eurovision song, having been produced by none other than Lady GaGa cohort RedOne, and nodding with GaGa-esque 80s nostalgia to George Michael’s early 80s street-tough phase. Of course, maybe Eurovision just feels more current right now because Lady GaGa has made some of the hallmarks of Eurovision – gibberish chants, polylingual singalong hooks, outlandish costumes and epic stagings – cool.
#8 – Slovenia: “No One” by Maja Keuc
Did you know that there’s a TV show called Slovenia’s Got Talent? There is. Seriously. And last year, Maja Keuc took second place on the show, winning comparisons to Christina Aguilera in the process. As songs go, this gothic ballad is far better than anything Aguilera put out on Bionic.
#7 – Iceland: “Coming Home” by Sigurjon’s Friends
There’s a sad story behind Iceland’s entry. 36-year-old singer-songwriter Sigurjon Brink was in competition with a song called “Aftur Heim” to become Iceland’s representative in this year’s Eurovision when he died suddenly of a stroke in January. A group of his musician friends formed a tribute band in his honor, and with the blessing of Brink’s family won the chance to take Brink’s song to Eurovision. But there’s more to the song that the sad story behind it – it’s a sweet old-fashioned tavern singalong given a loving performance by a band of brothers in harmonies (and horns). (My 11-year-old son says it sounds like it could be a holiday song. I think he’s right.)
#6 – Georgia: “One More Day” by Eldrine
Turkey may have placed 2nd last year with an awesome Linkin Park-ish rocker called “We Could Be the Same” by the band maNga. But generally speaking, you don’t see much rock on the Eurovision stage. This year’s nu-metal number came courtesy of the former Soviet Republic of Georgia.
#5 – United Kingdom: “I Can” by Blue
The last time the United Kingdom won Eurovision was with a comeback hit by Katrina and the Waves (they of “Walking on Sunshine”) in 1996. This year’s entry is another comeback story. Americans have no reason to know the British boy band Blue, but between 2001 and 2005, they charted a dozen singles to the British Top 20 including three #1s before splitting (at Elton John’s recommendation) to pursue solo careers. The group reunited last year, and are currently working on a new album, reportedly working on songs with Bruno Mars and Ne-Yo. “I Can” is their first new single in 5 years.
#4 – Bosnia & Herzegovina: “Love in Rewind” by Dino Merlin
While Russia may have gone for pop currency in recruiting producer RedOne for their entry, Bosnia & Herzegovina’s entry boldly eschews the new. In a competition overflowing with early-twenty-somethings, the 48-year-old Edin Dervishalidovic, better known (or at least more easily pronounced) as Dino Merlin looks positively ancient. His plaid jacket and folklorical presentation don’t help either. But this song is a grower, and proved to be one of this year’s crowd favorites.
#3 – Ireland: “Lipstick” by Jedward
Another crowd favorite: These two Irish brothers scored their first hit with a cover of “Ice Ice Baby”. They gave a wildly kinetic performance of this song at the Grand Final wearing looking like a white Kid N Play after having looted Lady GaGa’s costume shop. The song itself is techno-bubblegum of a most durable grade. These hooks have titanium barbs.
#2 – Moldova: “So Lucky” by Zdob si Zdub
For those who love to hate Eurovision, the country of Moldova (it’s not fictional, I swear!) gave a gift that keeps giving. Although it looks like a joke at Eurovision’s expense, Zdob si Zdub have really just given their stock-in-trade – Devo meets the Red Hot Chili Peppers in a Transylvanian night club absurdist gypsy folk-punk-funk – an English translation. The band has been around for nearly twenty years and have, in fact, opened shows for American acts like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. All of which, I think, makes “So Lucky” that much more fun. It’s jokey and outlandish, but the outlandish joke isn’t really about Eurovision specifically, but about the widespread culture of consumer narcissism – “You see! It’s all about me!” Cue the fairy unicyclist.
#1 – Azerbaijan: “Running Scared” by Eldar & Nigar (Ell & Nikki)
One of those rare cases where I actually agree with the winner in what is essentially a popularity contest. “Running Scared” is a shimmery, cosmic duet of young love on the verge of something wonderful (and also scary).
While pop music may sound better in English, it’s also true that pop music is best when written and/or produced by Swedes (see also the Blue and Alexej Vorobjov entries here). Ironically, Sweden’s entry this year – the massively, um, popular song “Popular” by Eric Saade – was one of this year’s biggest pop turds in the competition. (Sample lyric: “Stop. Don’t tell me it’s impossible. Because I know it’s possible.” Makes Ke$ha sound like Joni Mitchell.) But Sweden still managed to win this year. Azerbaijan’s winning entry was written by Swedes Stefan Orn and Sandra Bjurman. Like last year’s winner, “Running Scared” actually comes across as a song with international crossover potential. It sounds more like a song you might here on a U.S. Top 40 radio station than anything from Azerbaijan really has a right to (witness the strategic Anglicization of the duo’s names).
Next year in Baku, byotches!

