Oddly enough, this funky tune pulls you in with bongos—yes, bongos—before layering the beats with basslines. I was unsure how to feel at first, mainly because I was confused; it felt like a hippie drum circle had been interrupted by some groovy, 70’s disco band. But within seconds the rhythms became cohesive, and suddenly the two instruments thrived off one another.
The song is a toe-tapper at the very least, and I wouldn’t put it past listeners to want to dance to this bubbly tune. But labeling it as a mere “dance-song” doesn’t quite feel complete. The bounciness of the bass paired with the smooth and cool vocals of Chaz Bear (also known by his stage name Toro y Moi) creates this strange yet fascinating strain that is simultaneously upbeat and laid-back.
Sure, it’s a song you can dance to (my mind immediately imagines John Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever” doing his disco finger dance—you know the one I’m talking about) but it’s also a song I’d be content to listen to on a road trip or a casual hangout with friends over drinks.
The seemingly effortlessness behind Bear’s satiny
voice makes you listen to the lyrics. The repetitive “Maximize all the
pleasure, even with all this weather/ Nothing can make it better” initially
confirms the idea that it’s strictly a dance-song; the singer himself is
telling you to maximize your pleasure, and as the perky bass plays you can’t
help but take pleasure in dancing along.
But as Bear’s smooth voice continues to earn your attention, the singer delves into some deeper topics when he examines a contemporary world that is too loud and “[m]akes it hard for [him] to feel what [he’s] thinking”. When you actually listen to the lyrics, you almost question if you should be dancing to it.
I can’t tell if Bear is telling us to ignore dark feelings by maximizing our pleasure, or if he believes the two simply coexist as a part of our reality. Regardless, the track seems to embrace a disenchanted world with an optimism relayed through disco.
“Learn to live” is the opening track on Alice Merton newly debut album called Mint. She definitely introduces the album with a bang as she sings,“they’ve got fire// well I’ve got lightning bolts.” Merton comes on full force ready to fight all her fears, as she told Billboardthat Learn to live is about “facing my fears and not be scared of everything. It reminds me that if you’re scared of everything in life, you’re not actually gonna live.”
Fear really has the power to trouble one’s mind and prevents one from taking up on opportunities. Merton does not let her fears steal her spotlight, I mean literally she is up on stage now promoting her new album. This takes a lot of courage, since writing this album is equivalent to her personal diary. She touches upon many topics from facing fears, feeling lost, finding her place in society and tackling everyday life’s issues. All these topics revolve around her journey on “learn(ing) how to live” in such a fast paced world.
She starts off by introducing the opening track with simple heavy strums of the guitar that gradually gets more complex as the layer of drums hit in. The constancy of the guitar strums gives that “here I’m coming for battle” tempo. Merton’s strong voice comes in and captivates my attention. Unconsciously I realized myself humming along and next thing you know I’m bursting out “ I WANNA LIVE WITHOUT CONSEQUENCES!” I mean who doesn’t? These lyrics are so relatable, and the music is upbeat making it a perfect album to have a karaoke session in your car.
Sometimes we need a song like this to remind us to live in the present. It is easy to constantly think about the past or worry about the future. Life is full of questions, and it can be quite frightening. Yet, Merton tells us to not let those demonic thoughts control our lives.
Rather she tells us it’s time to armor up and get ready for battle.
If I could say anything about “Freelance” by Toro y Moi’s most recent album, is that it is a musical mixed bag. The production of this track plays with so many shaky synthesizers, heavy basses, and truthful lyrics, that listening to it feels like a whirlwind of sound that left my head spinning thinking “what just happened?” amongst other things.
Turns out I wasn’t far off on my assumptions. This single definitely packed a disconnected kind of funky electronic-pop sound, with gravelly backup vocals, intentionally sounding like a scratched CD. It’s plain to see that Chaz Bear really wanted to experiment with new sounds- different from that of Toro’s typical sound- and use the 30 minutes of the album to construct an ode to those people who will use technology in a positive way, by creating art and spreading joy with it.
The lines in the last verse, “I can’t hear you, maybe you could change your tone/ People tend to listen when they see your soul” highlights an important message that is significant to remember, to remind listeners that even though you may feel (artistically) blocked or alone at times, that you can still express yourself using art to speak out against the ugliness in the world.
While I could appreciate the message Bear was making about self-expression, this track was musically all over the place and hard to focus on the message due to the deafening instrumentals in the background. On a lighter note, if you’re looking for an energetic dance song to play when your friend passes you the AUX cord, then this might be the song you’d want to blast.
I wasn’t sure what I expected when I chose to listen to Toro y Moi’s latest album, Outer Peace. The first track, “Fading”, really sets the tone for the whole album. And that tone is forgettable.
This song really doesn’t make itself stand out enough for me to distinguish from all the other dance/chillwave/techno stuff that’s being played in clubs today.
At one point while I was listening to it, I started thinking about chores I had to do the next day and how much time it would take me to check each one off my to-do list. I think this really showcases how much of an effect this song had on me.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s good music to dance to. The songs have catchy beats, and Toro Y Moi does some interesting stuff with his vocals and synth sounds. But the music doesn’t really leave a lasting impression for me to say that this song, and the album it’s from, is better than other dance songs being put out.
Toro y Moi’s “Fading” from Outer Peace is generic and offers no real distinguishing qualities that make it stand out.
I first took a liking to this song because I thought it didn’t sound like dance/pop music, as opposed to many other tracks on the album. Rhythmically, it grooves like a dance tune, and the instrumental loops like a dance tune, but it sounds like a chillwave-synthpopsong. The marimba-sounding synthesizer part loops and dances around the pulsing kick drum beat that drives the song forward and acts as the backbone. The marimba sound is light and fluffy, constantly fluttering in the foreground. It gives off a tropical vibe, like something off the Super Mario Sunshine soundtrack. Because of this, it makes me happy, and gives me feelings of childhood nostalgia.
The lead vocals are strong, but cool. Stacked with two layers of voice, the melody comes off as thick, but smooth in execution. There is also autotune, which is popular in modern pop music, and the hip-hop and dance genres particularly. The repetitious line that clamours “You know I want you right now” for the entirety of the choruses, thrusts this track into the dance/pop genre, noted for its looping instrumentally, melodically, and lyrically. However, it is not forced. It feels intended by the artist, and perhaps this voiced repetition is because he really wants the object of affection to know he means business. I want you, like, right now. The auto-tune and double tracked vocal almost create an unnatural, robotic feel, like a love song from a free-thinking machine.
Since the marimba loop is unchanging, the droning bass tones are the only musical element that can change the chord root. With two or three chords total at best (“Moves Like Jagger”, anyone?), Toro y Moi does a fine job of crafting a well-landscaped, memorable, and interesting vocal melody. It’s one of the best melodies over a simple dance/pop progression that I’ve heard in a long time.
On January 30th of 2019, Alice Merton released MINT: in the making (part 1), the first part of a documentary series explaining her creative process for her debut album, Mint. Merton describes her songs in the documentary as “notes that I would put on a fridge,” as her songs a personally driven from her transient lifestyle. Many of her songs including “Homesick,” are meant to express the displacement she felt as part of her young life always moving around – but the notes are there to help her remember that life isn’t always so bad.
“Homesick,” opens with jazzy upbeat piano, and Merton’s soulful,
gravelly voice – which reminds me of Florence + the Machine but with a definitive
Taylor-Swift pop twist. To the ear, the first line, “I was the new kid / I was
scared of dogs and the weather,” starts the song off with an upbeat and playful
sound, while the lyrics reveal the underlying woe of a child in a new
environment, having to make new friends in a place which is entirely foreign to
them. The lyrics take a turn with Merton’s reminder – “tried my best to fit in
/ Started puttin’ it in a song” which is her self shout-out that life can’t be
all that bad when you can make beautiful music that touches and comforts others
who are in the same boat.
The chorus and post-chorus drives the upbeat sound further,
with the introduction of guitar and fast-paced hand clapping which adds to the pop
sound of the song.
The twenty-five-year-old singer/songwriter has shot to fame since her single, “No Roots,” was released in 2016. The song (which appears on Mint) beautifully unites the themes of the album which include the difficulties of relocation, of meeting and keeping long-distance friends, and the overall struggles of youth. Merton successfully captures what it is like to be a young adult trying to situate themselves in the larger context of life.
The 90’s birthed third-wave feminism and mothered an array of badass female artists who decided to raise eyebrows and sing about some not-so-radio-friendly subjects. Tori Amos was undoubtedly, queen of the badasses. A prodigy with a piano. A sagacious lyricist. Accepted into the Peabody Conservatory of Music in Baltimore at age five, Amos was destined to have an unprecedented career in music. The singer/songwriter has been releasing albums since the late 80’s and shows no sign of stopping now well in her 50’s. Her alt-pop-rock sound is the perfect vehicle for forwarding her political agenda, which has been clear since she started releasing music.
The 90’s were a rich decade of musical rebellion, and Amos was happy to take part. No stranger to resistance, she actually fought her label to take on the kind of music style that she’s so well known for, ditching their proposal for an 80’s rock persona after her first album, Y Kant Tori Read, bombed.
One might ask where does all power and strength come from?
After being kidnapped, held at gunpoint, and raped when she was twenty-one, Amos knew she had to do something to help other survivors. Her first solo album was a very much needed therapy session for her and for the women who came out to see her on her 250-city tour for Little Earthquakes. Most notably, however, is that in 1994 Amos co-founded RAINN, (Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network) which is a helpline for sexual assault victims. Now that Amos had succeeded in helping others with her first album and new hotline, she continued her own healing process with her next album Under the Pink, which released in 1994.
In an interview with The Boston Globe in January of 1994, Amos described her process of working on her trauma through her music saying, “I have to somehow find the tools to get in there and realize that I have a choice on whether I want to be a victim for the rest of my life…I do it through the songs…These are the tools I use. Music tools.”
Under the Pink is an unbelievably humane album that represents the realities of womanhood. There’s depth and overlap of uncomfortable realities, and Under the Pink is revolutionary in its rejection of the idea that women are these idealistic, non-sexual embodiments of perfection. Women masturbate, women question their religious upbringing, women are abused, women are assaulted. Amos layers and packs in these controversial issues, as if saying “why are these issues stigmatized? Why are we not talking about these things? If no one else will, I will”. And in Under the Pink, she does.
More than anything, Amos wanted to go her own way with music instead of competing her with contemporaries. With each song on the album, Amos felt that she needed to explain each song, track by track as each track has a character that represents each one of the controversial topics she confronts. There is women being betrayed by other women, sexual indulgences, and conflicts in religion. It is all mended together to create a feminine purity of social and sexual freedom.
However, this leaves us wondering…. What about the amazing instrumentation that accompanies her beautiful pure vocals and the narration in her music? On one note, Amos started to play with new ways to not only emphasize her amazing lyrics, but make sure the sounds that supported them touched the souls of the women she wanted to reach.
In “God”, Amos uses funky guitars, bass, and drums, with sizzling rhythms from Brazilian percussionist Paulinho da Costa. It is worth noting that during the sessions for Under the Pink, Amos was collaborating instrumentally with jazz, funk, and R&B studio musicians from the 70’s and 80’s. This was a pretty far cry from the grunge sound of the day, and the makeup of instrumental and genre variation speaks to this. For instance, check out “Space Dog” for a look into Amos’ classical piano, in fusion with jazz, funk and R&B. In “God”, Amos also employs odd time changes, adding sudden bars of 3/4 time that throw off the constant 4/4 time signature of the rest of the song. This break of rhythmic inconsistency is likely a musical interpretation by Amos to prove to listeners that sometimes God just doesn’t come through. What’s also important is that it’s not so much the consistency and energies of God she’s confronting, but the institution of God that will do wrong or bad things in His name. Lyrically, the topic is quite heavy, but the thick texture of instrumentation and various genre styles provide a good supporting foundation for the song’s verbal message.
Then there’s “Past the Mission”, which also deals with the issues of religion. Like “God”, this song is accompanied with instruments, unorthodox for 1994, like the Vox Organ, and piano with styrofoam being pushed on the strings to create, according to Amos, the “strange bassoon sound”. Trent Reznor, known by stage name Nine Inch Nails, provides backing vocals and male vocal-doubling during the chorus, ultimately adding to the groovy funk/rock sound that the song portrays. In an interview with The Baltimore Sun in 1994, Amos states that this song explores the relationship between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, which Amos believes were a couple: “She represents the Goddess, the female, the feminine, the joining, the equality… until we have mutual respect, there’s that prison tower, and there’s that mission (church), and the hot girl got lost somewhere in between”. It seems that this song is the attempt to find Magdalene and restore the Church to the equality it should stand for.
If we thought these two songs were radical in relation to religion, Amos touches more unforbidden grounds with “Icicle”. There’s something grand about the instruments in this song, almost as if you’ve gone to the orchestra or symphony as a long piano instrumental sets the tone of something beautiful to follow. Yet, the lyrics Amos sings is a stark contrast with the feeling. Nonetheless she melts the two together beautifully, which is hard to do with a song about female masturbation.
“Icicle” literally intertwines the topic of female masturbation with prayer: “And when they say take of his body/ I think I’ll take from mine instead”. Did Amos just reject the eucharist in favour of masturbating? Uh hell YESshe did! If this isn’t having guts, I don’t know what is. By doing so, she gives power back to women of the Church who essentially have none compared to their male counterparts.
“I tell of how I used to masturbate at home as a teenager, while my father and his fellow theologians were downstairs discussing the Divine Light. I was exploring the ‘divine light’ within myself… when I say I want to “do it” with Jesus Christ it’s not just that I want to sexualise Jesus, bring him down to our level, I want to breathe the earth into his lungs. He came from Heaven and we, as women, come from the earth. So it’s the idea of soil beneath the fingers.” —Hot Press, February 1994
As much as this song is about masturbation, it’s also about connecting with Jesus on a more interpersonal level. While the Church restricts female lust and expression, Amos argues that it is in this way that we can connect with the Saviour ourselves, uniting Heaven and Earth.
Evidently, Amos believes in unity and equality in all things. While doing an interview with Amos, journalist Ann Powers from The Record noticed that Amos invokes the four elements (Earth, Water, Air, and Fire) on the nights before her show. This is done to remind everyone that music, metaphorically speaking, is a gesture to thank the four elements. Earth — skillful and solid, Water — responsive and adaptive, Air — imaginative, and Fire — passionate. Thus, Amos’ music can be understood in elemental terms. She merely works as the container, surrendering herself to the energies of the world while at the same time remaining grounded in it. Amos then send this positive energy to her audience which in turn sends it back, ultimately creating spiritual bonds with her audience as “He came from Heaven and we, as women, come from the earth”. By accepting the energies of the Earth while still celebrating the energy of Christ, Amos is able to connect with both God and her audience on a level that is all inclusive.
In “Bells for Her”, Amos uses a prepared piano to accompany her vocals, essentially placing items on the strings to alter the sound, like the styrofoam piano on “God”. This technique was used to make the piano sound more like a celeste (think of the Harry Potter theme), or a music box. It is as if the audience is being pulled into this music box that is filled with memories, since it deals with the end of a friendship. Similarly, “Cloud on My Tongue” deals with the end of a relationship as well, but this time in the form of a breakup. The two songs sound remarkably similar as both use minimal instrumental dynamic—piano and vocals. While both mimic the sadness felt within the songs, there’s something deeply sorrowful felt in “Bells for Her”. Here, the character sees that her friend has “her face and her eyes/ But you are not her”. Her appearance may be the same, but she is no longer the friend she used to be. There’s this deep and desperate longing for her friend to return to her, while in “Cloud on My Tongue” the character blatantly tells her ex that “you can go now”. Although it pains this character to be in a constant whirlwind of emotions with her ex, it definitely pains her more to grow up and only recognize the shell of her childhood friend.
What really makes Tori Amos a shining star is that by 1999, the album had graced the CD players of two million Americans, earning it a double Platinum certification. Twenty-five years following it’s ’94 release, it’s clear that Amos was among the many female artists who helped to pave a path for present day female artists. Kesha for example, released her 2017 song “Praying” which intertwines religious themes while addressing her sexual abuser. A year later, artist Ariana Grande released her bold and controversial song “God is a Woman” which centers around female sexuality and empowerment. Songs like these—although still found to be controversial and taboo by some—in their mere existence show that albums like Under the Pink have sparked an insurgence of strong female artists continuing to resist against the silence of conforming to an image of idealized female perfection. Under the Pink is a rejection of the perfection and has influenced the music world by showing women that they’re allowed to show their layers: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Without Amos in the music world, women and beautiful instrumentation would be lost “under the pink”. Amos knocks down the concrete wall and levitates women, piano keys, and feminine prosperity into a light that has influenced many emerging female artists today.
Amos’s newest album Native Invader (2017) shows her strong rebellious spirit has not dulled with age, as she tackles other current issues coming to light. Her affinity for the earth and elements is highlighted in Native Invader, where Amos focuses her energies on the injustices done to Indigenous peoples and speaks to environmental issues which are becoming ever more prevalent in society today. Amos shows her compassionate soul and talent by giving a voice to the voiceless in each of her albums. She stood up for herself, and women in Under the Pink, and twenty-five years later she is still standing up for others. Amos’s music has grown as she has grown, and only expanded in breadth and capacity with time.
As it is the 25th anniversary since Under the Pink has debuted, NotesOnNotes wants everyone to raise a glass and cheers to Tori Amos, for her badass attitude and her lighting the way in the music industry and into people’s hearts.
“We all have bad days… but there is something good in everyday, so find that something and embrace it baby girl” I took this quite personal while driving on my way home from work after a long and tiring day. The wise words of wisdom that were preached through the speakers filled me with hope and made me appreciate everyday with a little joy and comfort.
This exact feeling of sincere hope for enjoyment in the day is exactly what Alice Merton places on a silver platter and brings to the table for her audience. Merton’s fun new track “Why So Serious” literally summons the inner child in you and get’s you out of that boring “serious” comfort zone. This is why I absolutely fell in love with this song because it is a reminder that I should let my hair down and live in the now, and of course, – “screw what the past holds!” (as for you men let that beard grow, eat a doughnut, and live in the now!)
This fun track is so simple, but also powerful enough to bring out a good energy in anyone. With the song’s hybrid upbeat pop guitar riffs and 80’s slow disco beats layered with Merton’s amazing rock vocals, I promise you, it will always have you bumping, nodding, and tapping your feet.
My absolute favorite part of the song is when she sings, “Try to learn to let go of all those things that tie you down/ Get rid of it, the voice inside that tells me that/I’m scared, yeah, scared as shit/But I wanna let go of it now”. Hell yes sister! Tackling everyday life and dealing with things that hold us down is scary, but Merton is so right, we need to let this go and live each day with no regrets. I swear the beat and the lyrics still lingers through my body wanting to step outside my comfort zone and embrace the enjoyment that Merton lends to her audience.
So common people “Why So
Serious?” Let it go! Find that little goodness in everyday and embrace it!
Most of us have been there, and by ‘there’ I mean that weird aftermath of finding out your significant other has not been all too honest with you (to put it lightly). We struggle with this, knowing we should leave but fighting with the conflicting emotion of not wanting to. Somehow, Amos captures all of this with her soft piano melody and relatable lyrics that seem as inescapable as our own feelings.
The lyrics of the song brings us through the tale of the other showing up at the door and everything that follows, including “It won’t be fair if I hate her”. And she’s right that it wouldn’t be fair, but it would be real. As much as the narrator is trying to direct her anger/hurt to the correct person, it’s definitely a struggle that’s easier said than done.
Yet, there’s this strange sort of lyric that unsettles the listener and hints towards something more personal for Amos when she says, “Leave me with your Borneo”. While on her Little Earthquakes Tour, a man came to Amos backstage before one of her performances and wanted her to leave with him for four days to Borneo. This man remains frustratingly nameless, but many fans of Amos do speculate that it’s Anthony Kiedis from Red Hot Chili Peppers as he spent much of his time in Borneo in 1994. Although the two had previously met, it is left unknown whether they had any sort of relationship afterwards.
Nonetheless, whether this song is about Kiedis or someone else, Amos transports this whirlwind of feeling into a song that everyone can relate to. With piano melodies and lyrics that are cyclical, Amos truly gives us the impression of being entrapped by both the other and ourselves in a beautifully heartbreaking song.
With the title being “Baker Baker” I was expecting to listen to a sweet love ballad about a girl falling in love with her local baker. With valentine’s day around the corner I guess I had the sweets on my mind. Let’s be real though what girl wouldn’t like to have a man to bake her cakes and cookies? When Tori sang the first line “Baker Baker baking a cake” I was full of anticipation to hear the love story unravel.
As I was listening I quickly realized that the sweet song I was hoping for became bitter. Tori’s soft and airy voice puts you in a reflective state and makes you go down memory lane, and it’s not a happy memory either. During her interview with The Baltimore Sun she said “I think with Baker Baker, to deal with a man that truly loved me, but that I wasn’t emotionally available for.” Her remorse on her past relationship is definitely heard through her voice. Her voice hits centre stage and over powers the acoustic- like quiet piano ballad. The way she pushes out her long notes are full with emotion that digs deep in from her heart, and pours out of her mouth.
It’s almost as if Tori is talking to her past lover from a distance. She is on a journey to find out what happened to him as she ends with “And I wonder if he’s okay if you see him say hi.” Her one way conversation ends unresolved, but she is in no way searching for him anymore. Maybe she was feeling apologetic and wanted to meet with him once more to “make her whole again.” Or it could be that she is too anxious to even revisit the past, and instead she chooses to be stuck in a dream-like state of mind.
Notes on Notes 