Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Ocean by John Butler Trio


You may have noticed M.I.A. flipping you off in the Super Bowl XLVI halftime show. Maybe you caught wind of Patriots quarterback Tom Brady's wife cussing out Giants fans after the event.

One Super Bowl Sunday controversy you might not have picked up on is the one surrounding Oikos Yogurt, John Stamos and John Butler, as seen in the following commercial.



If you have heard Butler's 2003 song "Zebra," the commercial's backing ditty might sound somewhat familiar. The 36-year-old Australian musician is currently seeking legal advice over possible plagiarism of the tune.

Butler, who started his music career busking on the streets of Australia, is the singer/songwriter of the jam band John Butler Trio. Although his music has gotten some recognition in the U.S., it deserves more.

In his instrumental "Ocean," Butler says what our hearts cannot in a 12-minute flurry of skillful guitar picking.

The first minute of the song is similar to an  overture, introducing the sounds to come. Since the song is somewhat improvised each time it is played, the opening segment probably also serves as Butler's warm up.

Near the 1:25 mark, the core of the piece begins to show as the melody of the song develops and gives the listener something they are able to follow and predict. The piece's moderate tempo and mellow sound established thus far continues for another 4 minutes into the piece.

Around the middle of the song, the pace suddenly abandons its former tranquility and quickens to a more intensely played tempest of finger-picking. Butler keeps the melody uplifting by playing high-pitched tones—never wandering far from the frets closest to the body of the guitar.

The most intriguing quality of the piece is the fullness of the sound coming from one man and his instrument.

The song exudes vibrancy as Butler forms a progression from the adagio tempo in which the tune begins until the eventual crescendo at the song’s finale.

Towards the end of the number, he strays from the fundamental riff that has been established thus far, to play what can only be described as a “solo.” In this cadenza, he manages to keep the melody lucid while adding a section even more dynamic and brisk than anything heard in the song previously. Butler returns to the lulling riff from the intro before letting the sound fade out.
The title “Ocean” could allude to the rhythmic, wave-like melody repeated throughout the song—perhaps inspired by the landscape of the island on which he wrote. The song was composed by Butler while he was busking, or street-performing for income, in Australia.

While his ability to create a melody, supporting harmony and rhythm using only his body and his 11-string guitar is undeniably impressive, his real talent comes from his ability to communicate.
Most musicians can agree that making "sad" poignant in music is no easy task, it is a much easier emotion to convey instrumentally than its cheerful counterpart. (See Adele.) 

Butler is able to produce an empowering and beautiful melody without relying on the readily available crutch of reminding listeners of their impending death. His music speaks the language of the soul, and his song tells it to keep its chin up.

Be sure to check out this shortened version of "Ocean":

Monday, February 13, 2012

Reviewing Reviewers


So meta.

Although there is not a particular reviewer I can point to, the Rolling Stone is definitely in my top tier publication-wise.

Their appreciation of classic rock paired with their ability to discern inspired talent from the rest, across a multitude of genres, gives them their edge. It's refreshing to hear what current music Hendrix fans are listening to, because Dad won't give Eminem a chance.

But it's not just their ability to untangle the good from the popular that is commendable, it's their proficiency at honing in on what exactly makes the good good.

Take, for example, their examination of the catchiness of the Black Keys' newest release:

The single "Lonely Boy" works the same way, launched on a gnarly, looped guitar riff whose last note slides down like a turntable that someone keeps stopping. Then a sugar-crusted keyboard comes in, along with what sounds like a boy-girl chorus, changing the swampy chug into a seductive singalong.

The level of scrutiny applied here is strict, to say the least.

The Rolling Stone boasts the aptitude of pinpointing exactly what's happening in a song, for better or for worse. It's the attention to detail and the apparent thought behind the critique that makes them worth the $12.99 subscription.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Finder's Keepers...


UNC cafeteria workers and campus custodians surround the door to Room 3203, eager to get in.

"Do you still have that iPod from last September?" one of them asks. "I know it's in there because I'm the one who turned it in."

That was one year ago. And yes, they still had the iPod.

The UNC service fraternity, Alpha Phi Omega, hosts the Lost and Found Sale every semester. This year, APO is holding the free event from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. today in  Room 3203 of the Student Union.

The lost and found desk is located at the bottom of the union, where the bowling alley was once lodged. APO volunteers man the desk every day of the week.

The fraternity sells the collection of items that have been turned in to the campus lost and found the previous semester if attempts to return the items to their owner have been unsuccessful. 

"We get about 10 to 15 items in each day," said Thomas Ferguson, APO's Lost and Found chair. "We log the items in a spreadsheet so if someone contacts us about losing something, we know immediately whether we have it or not."

Last year, the fraternity made hundreds from the sale. The profit from the sale goes into their Campus Chest fund, a cache the fraternity adds to over the semester. The money is then doled out to various charities in the community.

Ferguson said the usual inventory consists of water bottles, sunglasses, textbooks, jewelry, keys (which are not sold), clothes and assorted electronics.

So come out and sort through strangers' forgotten stuff. You never know what you might find  literally.