The Bowdoin Orient

When people on campus find out that they have a friend who can sing, they almost inevitably ask if they are part of an a cappella group. While this question appears to be a compliment, it is incredibly frustrating to hear. The question reflects the imbalance in performance opportunities offered to a cappella groups over solo musicians. Additionally, it implies that one has more credibility as a singer if one is in an a cappella group. The reality however, is that an interest or a talent in singing does not always intersect with an interest or participation in a cappella. The question implies that one is only validated as a “singer” if they are a part of an a cappella group and as a result, it slights those who take pride in singing but do not do a cappella simply for this reason, despite how involved they are in the music scene on campus.

Of course, there are a couple of reasons why this question is so common. One is the “everyone can sing and audition” approach a cappella groups have to recruiting. The most striking example of this was a Meddibempsters poster in my first-year that featured seniors taking showers accompanied by the text (somewhat paraphrased due to faulty memory) “Do you enjoy singing in the shower? Come audition for the Meddibempsters!” I understand why posters like this come around: finding the exact voice parts necessary for group is difficult and demands that groups cast a wide net to capture their ruby-throated sparrow of choice.

The “everybody can do it” ethos, however, works in multiple directions. While it encourages uninitiated students who may have never sung live as part of a group to sing with other talented and wonderful people at Bowdoin, being a part of an a capella group becomes a status symbol on campus. You are a “singer” if you are in an a cappella group.

Another reason this question is problematic is that it draws attention the imbalance in performance opportunities afforded to a cappella groups. In a group, you have the chance to perform at the broadest spectrum of events than any other group on campus. From appearances at Eco-rep coffee houses to performances at Student Night at the Museum to campus-wide Ivies kickoff concerts, no solo performer, or lead vocalist of a band can ever hope to have the kinds of varied and frequent performance opportunities as those who are in a cappella groups, no matter how hard one work. An a cappella group is not only called on more frequently than a solo artist, but also will be individually fawned over for having the gold standard of Bowdoin’s singing talent. In contrast, no individual performer will receive such lavish praise.

We are a campus of many musically talented students, many of whom have wonderful singing voices.  Such talent does not need to be justified by one’s participation in an a cappella group. A cappella just is not every singer’s cup of warm tea mixed with honey (you know, to preserve those tender vocal chords). Vocal talent is all across campus. We can see this in Unplugged sessions behind the Cafe, in that one friend who has a surprisingly good rendition of Adele’s “Hello”, and in students who take classical or jazz voice lessons through the music department. Every one of these students takes pride in his or her voice and identifies as much a singer as much as any member of an a cappella group. It’s worth appreciating the incredible vocal talents of students in and out of a cappella groups regardless of their involvement. Does that mean that I think a cappella receives undue appreciation? Absolutely not. But I think credit is due to the voices of those who not only put themselves out there to sing in front of other people, but do a fucking good job of it regardless of the context.

On their latest album, "New Bermuda," Deafheaven relishes its unique style of metal from previous albums but also extends its reach to more accessible and recognizable musical ideas drawn from metal and rock contemporaries. The album’s heavy sections are heavier than ever, but band employs shifts in mood and tone that remind the listener of their versatility and capability to exploring new styles and musical territories at will.

The album opener “Drawn to the Water” wastes no time in establishing this paradigm. After a brief rumbling of guitar distortion and bass, the drums thunder in with an unrelenting bashing of snares and crash cymbals that give way to a fast, galloping triplet guitar riff in the style of thrash metal legends Slayer. On top of this foundation, the lead vocals enter, howling through the sonic landscape like a harsh winter wind on an Arctic tundra. After this heavier-than-usual sonic onslaught, the band frees their guitars of distortion and halves the tempo of the song. Add the the light tremolo-picked guitars and it feels as if a winter covering of ice has melted into a gently flowing river. The respite however, is not long. The distortion returns and we hear the drummer and the vocalist locked in a tight heavy metal groove that gives way to the catchiest guitar riff of the album: a slow, melodic lead guitar motif that lets the song drift off into the quiet outro.

In songs like “Gifts for the Earth” and “Baby Blue,” the band detours into styles previously unexplored. “Gifts for the Earth” features a punky-minor chord progression glazed with a shimmering lead guitar riff that would be right at home in modern indie rock song, while “Baby Blue” takes the band into the wah-wah washed lead guitar lands treaded by thrash metal progenitors like Metallica and Megadeth. These new elements, whether adopted from the sounds of contemporary and past metal acts or from those of indie rock acts, feel welcome and make sense in these songs. The incorporation of darker metal riffs are always balanced out with more left-field stylistic inclusions to play into a constant war between light and shadow, where every turn towards clean, shimmering sounds returns to sludgy distortion and throat-shattering screams at a breakneck pace, and then back again.  

None of these jarring contrasts are new for the band.  Deafheaven has made a name for itself as one of the most difficult-to-define acts of the current decade. Their work has always featured machine-gun-paced drumming and howling screams that are the hallmarks of black metal, a subgenre of metal originating from Scandinavia known for fast, loud and exceptionally heavy songwriting. To label them as a black metal band, however, often leads to the consternation of legions of black metal purists. Such individuals balk at the idea of labeling a band from outside of Scandinavia black metal, especially one that relies more on bright, reverb-washed, surf-rock riffage than on distorted, guttural, down-tuned guitars. Indeed the juxtaposition of metal vocals and drums with sunny, atmospheric guitars defines and obscures band’s style.

With that said, all the metal-surf rock fusion in the world cannot save what can be at times unfortunately predictable tonal shifts. The chords, drum patterns and riffs may vary but the band only has so many ways it achieves its loud-soft dichotomy. For every blast beat and scream, there is a dreamy respite to balance it out. This makes them a challenging yet rewarding listen, but they become less so when one begins to see it coming.

Nonetheless, such a gripe may be like complaining that every incline on a roller coaster has a thrilling drop. "New Bermuda" is evidence that it is neither the drop nor the anticipation of the incline that makes the experience worthwhile: each element plays into the holistic experience that is the ride itself.  "New Bermuda" is exhausting and challenging, but the album finds Deafheaven re-imagining the intersection of metal and rock music in novel and thrilling ways.

New Bermuda (2015)

The mission statement of the Glasgow trio CHVRCHES’ sophomore album can be encapsulated in its fourth track “Make them Gold.” Lead singer Lauren Mayberry glides across a shimmering landscape of synthesizers like a teenager roller-skating in an 80’s-themed roller rink as she sings “We will take the best parts of ourselves/and make them gold.”

CHVRCHES (pronounced like “churches”) carries on a tradition of synthesizer-driven indie pop that includes Passion Pit, M83 and “Oracular Spectacular”-era MGMT. Following their breakout debut album, The Bones of What You Believe, CHVRCHES appears to have embraced their role as stars in this sub-genre. The band has a knack for writing catchy but nuanced songs that do not sacrifice emotional punch or dynamics to craft the most infectious of earworms.

"Every Open Eye" does not exist to revolutionize the indie pop landscape nor does it eschew the pop of its predecessor album. Instead, it displays the band’s sharpened songwriting abilities and as a result, delivers an incredibly enjoyable listening experience. Lyrically, Mayberry spends most of her time floating in somewhat predictable melodic lines that liken her to top-40 vocalists like Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga rather than seemingly alike indie darlings like Bjork, FKA Twigs or Arcade Fire’s Regine Chassagne.

Despite their lyrical deficiencies, CHVRCHES’ tracks stand out because of the work of producers/multi-instrumentalists Iain Cook and Martin Doherty. Their synths on tracks like “Keep you on my Side” give Mayberry enough space to develop her melodic ideas afloat an ever-shifting electronic soundscape.

The opening track, “Never Ending Circles” is a perfect case study. The song comes out swinging with a crushing quarter-note bass pattern and blindingly fast synth arpeggio that drops out every fourth repeat to let Mayberry’s ethereal “oh”s slip through the sonic wall. The lyrics of the song’s introduction are reflected in its instrumentals. Mayberry makes a toast to “taking what you came for” in a relationship and “running off the pain” as a means of persevering when relationships fall apart. The instrumental repetition emphasizes the persistence with which Mayberry resolves to return to relationships even though the same patterns of mutual destruction and mistrust return, as they always appear to do.  Hence, Mayberry’s vocal delivery belies the exasperation and frustrated persistence in relationships, which the instrumental forcefully makes clear.

Of course, Cook’s and Doherty’s command over the shiny Millennium Falcon that is “Every Open Eye” is audible throughout. Subtle adjustments to the drum patterns and presence of the synthesizer on the album’s catchiest song “Leave a Trace” let the track reach its emotional triumphs and moments of relaxation without barraging the listener with noise at the chorus or losing any steam in the subsequent verses. The power of the disco-stomping climax of “Clearest Blue” is owed to the calculated instrumental crescendo engineered by Doherty and Cook and not Mayberry’s vocal delivery. Although, her shout of “Will you meet me more than halfway there?” could be her most exciting moment on the album. Nevertheless, it’s the meticulous and varied arrangements of Cook and Doherty that keep the songs fluid.

As a result of such expert arrangements, the album flows better than any other recent indie release. The band is quick to shift up or down gears with subsequent tracks and does so in a way that does not come off as formulaic. One caveat to such careful arrangement may be that the album feels exactly that: too carefully arranged. When everything fall into place so easily, the album the loses tension and energy that it, at times, needs. The builds work too well, the shifts in mood are a bit predictable and the melodic lines are easy to see coming, especially in the vocals.

While there is not much in the way of surprises on the album, every song is highly enjoyable. "Every Open Eye" reinforces the catchy but forceful energy, characteristic of the band’s debut and summer festival presence, even it if does not force anybody’s eyes wide open in musical revelation.

Matthew Leventhal is a member of the class of 2017.  

I’m sick of hearing that all pop stars suck in concert: that to be a big name in the oh-so-horribly-corrupt music industry an artist must be cloistered in the studio, doctored up, compressed and Pro-Tools-processed and then shell out radio hits like samples of cookies at Wild Oats. Not only is the image ugly and cynical, it is also utterly false. In the era of digital music, artists are making better live music than ever.

It’s no secret that the Titanic that was the record industry collided with the iceberg that was the internet. Of all forms of media, whole albums were the most cripplingly damaged by the rise of iTunes, YouTube and Spotify.  However, while music distribution has gone almost entirely digital, the show still goes on. Why? In the past, pop musicians made money from live performances, merchandise sales and album sales. Shouldn’t the destruction of that third income stream have caused the complete and utter destruction of music as we knew it? Shouldn’t it have crushed the dreams of all kids who aspired to rap like Biggie or shred like Hendrix?  Surprisingly, digital music sales and streaming didn’t annihilate careers in music; it simply required artists to rebalance their sources of income. As a result of this paradigm shift, live music reigns supreme.

Ever since the dawn of Rock and Roll, it was impossible to achieve any scrap of success without being a kickass live band. Live shows were your chance to advertise and sell copies of your records.  Nowadays, since music is just a search and stream away on iTunes, Youtube or Spotify, the model has been flipped: artists use albums and singles as marketing tools to get fans to jump out of their seat, buy some tickets, and bask in the atmosphere of a live show.

I, for one, welcome our new internet-music complex. According to the recent article in the New York Times Magazine “The Creative Apocalypse that Wasn’t,” megastars like the Rolling Stones, the Kanye Wests and the Pearl Jams of the world made approximately 90 percent of their incomes from live shows in 2003. Today live shows account for only about 43 percent of income for these artists.  A parallel effect of this shift has been the rise of small acts. More bands can lead successful careers without being at the top of the heap. Today, smaller acts are selling out huge shows, headlining music festivals and thriving off of the business of music. In this new era, it’s easier to rise from the bottom to the top. More people like Chance the Rapper can become superstars. Musicians can make a career from making music for the sake of having fun and achieve success without even releasing a full LP.  

As both a fan a performer myself, I say the more small acts landing big live gigs the better.  For fans, live shows have a unique mystique to them. On stage, studio tracks become ferocious displays of raw emotion and energy, an effect that can only be understood when you’re in standing-room-only general admissions, drenched in sweat and squished between a mass of concertgoers while the bass and drums rhythmically vibrate throughout your whole body.  Live shows allow performers to experience a similar rush.  The opportunity to convey the joy of making music with friends on stage to thousands or millions of people who care about what you have to say is among the greatest feelings on earth; after all, it has to be given the legions of teenage musicians who dream of becoming rockstars.  The beauty of our internet culture is that it has opened the door for more people than ever to experience the one-of-a-kind rush that is touring and performing live as a way of life. In return we get more talent and diversity hitting the stage every day.  

Matthew Leventhal is a member of the Class of 2017.