Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.
𝙈𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙚 𝙆𝙡𝙚𝙞𝙣 – 𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙅𝙤𝙨𝙝𝙪𝙖
Charles analyses the situation…
There has been an increasing rarity of something in my reviews lately. Please don’t all shout at once: “Rap! Death Metal! Brevity!”… I know, I know. I’m more talking about something that used to be quite common in these parts. But has only come up maybe three or four times this year. We’ve had plenty of the rock, the indie, the alternative, the folk, the classical, the soul, the pop, the prog, and even the reggae. So, what am I talking about? What is missing? It’s something that is actually relatively common. But rarely of a high standard, because it’s bloody hard to do well; notoriously so. It has to sound polished. It has to sound classic. It usually has to sound professional (but there can be a certain charm when it’s not). It can be peaceful, but usually it’s sad; and it can be heart-wrenching. I’m talking about ballads.
Ballads are kind of everywhere. The problem is, most of them are rather dull, and lacking in a higher fidelity. That’s in the independent music scene. In the mainstream, they barely exist at the moment. They’re VERY out of fashion. In fact, I’m not really sure what IS in fashion. This could be a sign of my age being somewhat average, meaning I’m out of touch… Or it could be because the mainstream music scene is kind of lost. I think it might be the latter. Ballads tend to make you think and feel. Right now, it seems like the world (powers that be) doesn’t (don’t) want you to think or feel. There, danger lies. Which could explain the plasticity of mainstream songs these days. It is fodder to keep us at bay. A pacifier of sorts… You’d think that a rebellion-style song would be more effective in rousing the troops, and therefore something of which the mainstream would vehemently want to steer clear. The thing is, that’s the “troops”. That’s a big load of people “against the system”. Seems like the worst for “them”, right? Well, not necessarily. This way you’d have sheep culture. And sheep are easy to herd. They all think the same and feel the same, so once you’ve worked out a way of steering one, you’ve steered them all. Ballads though… Oof! Now you’ve hit something personal. Each and every individual will think and feel differently upon hearing a ballad. It’s an individual thing. It’s private. People don’t listen to ballads in the club with another hundred people… Oh what a hilarious thought: pilled up to the rafters, drunk as a skunk, all dancing away to Barry Manilow and Barbra Streisand. Pahaha!! Sorry, I don’t often chuckle in my Corner. I just couldn’t resist the image. Anyway! People tend to listen to ballads on their lonesome. And each listener will start to think and feel and remember, and often get a little teary-eyed.
But then I thought about the psychology of it all. Why do we like ballads? They’re slow, and they’re usually sad. Why should we want to listen to anything sad?? It’s a very good point! Sadness is a negative feeling. If you’re sad, you want to be happy again. If you’re happy, you want to stay happy. So what’s the point of it? I think it’s because we like to feel. It doesn’t so much need to be a happy feeling, but a feeling. Happiness is wonderful, but rarely as deep a feeling as sadness. You know when we say “I couldn’t be happier”… Do we really mean that? There is always “happier”. But sadness…? When you think you’re at your lowest (you’re probably not), you feel at your absolute lowest. Proof that sadness is the winner of all feelings. It’s a bludgeoning compared to a lollipop. That’s why ‘Tears in Heaven’ hits harder than the (technically) harder-hitting ‘Watermelon Sugar’. Also because ‘Tears in Heaven’ is a far superior song. So yeah, I think THAT’S why we are drawn to ballads. But I think it’s more about relating. “Uptown Funk gonh’ give it t’ ya”… But is it REALLY gonh’ give it t’ ya? It’ll make ya move, sure, but is it going to move your heart? Potentially, to the point of ambulance bells, should you move a little too much… But that’s not what I mean, and you know it. We can’t really relate to lyrics like “Take a sip, sign the check. Julio, get the stretch! Ride to Harlem, Hollywood, Jackson, Mississippi”… Hella cool though it is, it’s not really the life we know. But the loss of loved ones, and the break-up of a once perfect relationship…? These are things that we ALL go through. And THEY’RE the things that stick with us. That’s my pseudo psycho analyses out of the way, anyway. More just my own theoretical musings and ponderings, but perhaps interesting nevertheless. There might be a little more psycho analysis to come, though…
Let’s talk about one specific ballad that has just sprung from the womb. Well… This particular artist could never be a mother. More on mothers later. For now, we’ll stick with the one and only Frank Joshua, with his brand new release, Melanie Klein. And yes, my instant thought was your instant thought: “I want some peanuts”. No, it was “Who’s Melanie Klein?”. I’m right, right? Right. I thought as much. Melanie Klein was an unhappy mother. Or should I say, an unhappy wife. She lived a while ago, with the kindest face, the warmest heart and the most ravenous brain. She was obsessed with human behaviour, and a staunch supporter of Sigmund Freud, championing many of his beliefs (and arguing over others), but wishing to go further in terms of research. Although Freud was sure that any anomalies in human behaviour were due to childhood trauma, he was adamant that it was impossible to analyse the mind of a child. Melanie Klein realised otherwise. She would do this by giving children toys, and observing their behaviour as they play. I won’t go into too much detail, but her work concluded something along the lines of there being a good breast and a bad breast. Yes, she went from toys to boobs. It seems like the logical progression to me. Basically, she was a brilliant woman, stuck in a man’s world. She eventually left her horrid husband and continued her research as a psycho-analyst for the rest of her life.
So, has London’s Frank Joshua written a song about her life, or about her work…? Not really, no. One could perhaps argue that it is more a story about her unhappy marriage… Perhaps how separation can be not only hard on the two involved, but how it can weigh heavily on the children as well… However, I suspect it to be not even this. Let’s call it beautiful artistic licence. As always, I could be entirely wrong. The good news is, there won’t be any more psycho-chat from me, and we can get into the world of Frank. However, we will finish our behavioural studies with a brief look at Freud’s most famous notion: we men are all in love with our mothers… Hmmm… So Frank’s in love with his mother…? Let’s turn that on its head. All mothers are in love with Frank Joshua. Now, this isn’t a notion, but in fact, a fact. And with a voice so creamy, who can blame them!! Seriously though, mothers all over the world are swooning and falling for Frank Joshua. It’s an epidemic verging on a pandemic. But here’s something of which all you mothers will be mighty jealous… I’ve met him, in person. I was surprised and not surprised. I expected a great bouffant of blondy-browny hair. This was not the case. But rather amazingly, I got the face kinda spot on. That’s right, ladies, his face suits his voice! He is indeed, as they say, a catch. A charming dish, if you will. The thing is, this column is not for Women’s Weekly, it’s for the New Artist Spotlight, so let’s talk about the music!
The music starts not with Frank, but with a man called Tony White; Frank’s longterm producer. An inattentive ear might hear piano and little more. I urge you to listen to the first ten seconds properly. There is indeed piano, but also cello, soft synths and atmospheric sound effects. Tony is and has always been a master of sound design, going far further than most. He just KNOWS. But already it’s time for THOSE vocals: that’s Frank’s shtick. Simmer down, ladies, for God’s sake; you’re married! Yes, I know he’s talking about you. He’s observant and truly empathetic; he feels your pain. He’s strong but sensitive: yes, your dream man. But I must again stress that this writing is supposed to be about music…! God though, WHAT a voice. The clarity, depth and focus is pretty much unrivalled. This chorus is enough to bring a man to tears: “I don’t know where you’ve been. I don’t know where you go. But if you try to love again, then I will know”. The bold strength in this full voice of Frank’s is astounding. It’s rare, and these days it’s basically unheard of. But before you’ve barely had time to wipe your eyes, in comes the most magical 10-second harmonica interlude. By the second chorus, the strings are stirring enough to surround this voice with a close love, like a gentle pair of hands cupping a live butterfly before setting it free. And I do promise you, this chorus and its stunning melodies will be in your head for a long time to come. But it is the final 23 seconds that really show off the passion and expertise in Frank’s voice. The restraint, the understated power; it’s as if we can watch him sing with one hand clenched for feeling, and two eyes clenched for concentration. He really is a brave man holding back the tears. THIS is an exquisite production.
Gotta go! My mother’s calling. Ach. I meant girlfriend. Slip of the tongue.
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