I have an internal jukebox that is extremely impressionable, especially when a song has an irresistible, melancholy hook.
When Keane's debut album, Hopes and Fears, began to receive airplay in 2004, I was still recovering from chemotherapy – wretchedly sick and tired of feeling wretched, sickly and tired. I limited myself to only one album for wallowing in the mire – and Muse got to me first with their snappy doomsday ditty, "Time Is Running Out" from Absolution.
Luckily for all of us who missed out the first time 'round, the ever-present trailer for The Lake House, a new movie starring Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves, features the hauntingly beautiful "Somewhere Only We Know."
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Elliott Sings the National Anthem His Way
Tonight Elliott Yamin was given the honor and musical assignment to sing the national anthem before game 2 of the NBA finals between the Dallas Mavericks and the Miami Heat. With his hand over his heart, which was covered by a Dallas jersey, Elliott put his own patriotic stamp on one of the most technically difficult melodies in the American songbook. In Elliott's case, part of the challenge was waiting in the middle of the arena for the crowd to stop cheering so he could hear himself with his one good ear.
What a warm welcome back to the national stage! Elliott, we missed you.
As a matter of personal preference, I like The Star Spangled Banner straightforward and faithful to the original. The trick is to start in your lower register to accommodate the higher glory notes. Elliott obviously planned to decorate the familiar melody with his signature soulful runs. However, as the opening line began in Elliott's mid-range, he really had to improvise as the melody soared.
You Tube and Go Fish have the video. The mp3 can be downloaded here.
Elliott's rendition wasn't his best ever - no doubt due to the crowd, unique acoustics and the thrill of the moment. If you want to hear recent pitch perfect a cappella performances by Elliott, watch video 1 and video 2 from his visit to the Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital.
Monday Morning Update:
According to Kate Hairopoulos, Elliott "is quite the rising star."
He charmed her with his wit and knowledge of basketball - and likewise charmed the Mavericks' dancers, who wanted to be photographed with him. She revealed that Elliott was slated to sing during the Detroit Pistons-Miami Heat series, which ended before his scheduled appearance. Obviously, he brought Dallas, who beat the Heat handily, some good luck.
Look for a photo of Elliott near the bottom of Hairopoulos' article.
What a warm welcome back to the national stage! Elliott, we missed you.
As a matter of personal preference, I like The Star Spangled Banner straightforward and faithful to the original. The trick is to start in your lower register to accommodate the higher glory notes. Elliott obviously planned to decorate the familiar melody with his signature soulful runs. However, as the opening line began in Elliott's mid-range, he really had to improvise as the melody soared.
You Tube and Go Fish have the video. The mp3 can be downloaded here.
Elliott's rendition wasn't his best ever - no doubt due to the crowd, unique acoustics and the thrill of the moment. If you want to hear recent pitch perfect a cappella performances by Elliott, watch video 1 and video 2 from his visit to the Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital.
Monday Morning Update:
According to Kate Hairopoulos, Elliott "is quite the rising star."
He charmed her with his wit and knowledge of basketball - and likewise charmed the Mavericks' dancers, who wanted to be photographed with him. She revealed that Elliott was slated to sing during the Detroit Pistons-Miami Heat series, which ended before his scheduled appearance. Obviously, he brought Dallas, who beat the Heat handily, some good luck.
Look for a photo of Elliott near the bottom of Hairopoulos' article.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Elliott Yamin: The Class of 2006
You may know someone who seemed lost – a victim of hard knocks, lousy choices or a combination of both – but who, in defiance of all expectations, found and saved himself. If so, you understand how extraordinarily difficult it is to exchange the bad habits and poor self-image that become second nature for the self-discipline and healthy behavior that build positive self-esteem.
Elliott Yamin is the ultimate comeback kid with loads of potential that largely went unfulfilled. He was a high school dropout who earned his GED as part of a hiring bargain with his employer at the time. In the decade that followed, Elliott – by his own admission – drifted aimlessly from job to job without a guiding purpose to his life. He had an enduring passion for music but lacked the confidence to sing in front of an audience until about a year ago.
American Idol is the college his family never expected Elliott to enter, much less complete with honors. If his SAT was If You Really Love Me, then Moody’s Mood for Love was his Advanced Placement test. For extra credit, Elliott assigned himself the most challenging songs week after week – and nailed every one. Simon Cowell graded Elliott’s rendition of A Song for You as vocal master class quality. Out of the tens of thousands who auditioned for American Idol 5, Elliott finished third in his class. His impressive growth is due to his own determination to learn all he could from the show’s advisors, vocal coaches, judges, guest artists, and more experienced contestants.
In truth, American Idol is more like intensive vocational training than a performing arts program. Undeveloped talent is nurtured in the service of advertising and record sales. Naïve youngsters who flock to the contest with starry-eyed dreams may encounter a crass, exploitative franchise administered with nominal care for its protégés – unless it makes good television. Chris Daughtry was The Chosen One promoted throughout season five by the AI team – and even he was dismissed with brutal swiftness for maximum dramatic effect.
American Idol does not aspire to produce a valedictorian with exceptional singing talent – or even a genuine idol in the most honorable meaning of the word. Its far-from-lofty ambition is to assemble a cast entertaining enough to attract high ratings, identify at least one marketable talent among them who fits a readymade radio niche, and employ as many manipulations as the FCC allows to ensure the conclusion desired by its TV and music producers.
Every contest needs a winner – and the AI team was lucky to find theirs in Taylor Hicks, a self-taught music history scholar who may yet be worthy of the American Idol title. Five years of AI competition have spawned recording artists who, although failing to grasp the victor’s crown, can hardly be considered losers. Some, like Clay Aiken and Bo Bice, performed unselfish acts deserving of idolatry. But only a defining moment that triggers a groundswell of affection and admiration can create an authentic idol.
During the voting on top three night, Taylor and Katharine McPhee edged past Elliott with a narrow margin reminiscent of Ruben Studdard’s 2003 victory over Clay. The next evening, American Idol documented Elliott’s triumphant return to Richmond, Virginia, as the humble hometown hero who traveled to Hollywood in search of a golden opportunity – and discovered it within himself.
Had Elliott’s homecoming and retrospective videos aired 25 hours earlier, the results might have been a landslide with a different outcome. The AI brain trust would never allow a do-over – that is against the rules. But they cannot stop the audience from choosing its own champion.
As his proud mother – Claudette Yamin – said, her son’s vocal “talent is a given. But he’s such a good soul.” Set against a backdrop of adversity and disadvantage, Elliott’s inspirational character proved as endearing as his uncommon gift for singing. As his devoted fan base multiplied accordingly, the people pleaser grew into a crowd pleaser.
Recently I compared Elliott to the miracle Mets of New York. Baseball fans who remember the 1973 season recall with clarity how pitcher Tug McGraw’s battle cry – “Ya gotta believe!” – drove his team of underdogs from the National League cellar to the World Series. What is frequently forgotten is the Mets’ loss to the Oakland A’s in the seventh game of the World Series – an irrelevant footnote to one of the most thrilling achievements in sports history.
Just as his remarkable voice is ripe for recording now, Elliott’s story begs to be written by a modern day Horatio Alger and filmed by a contemporary Frank Capra – in due course. Graduation is called commencement with good reason. For Elliott, this is only the beginning.
Elliott Yamin is the ultimate comeback kid with loads of potential that largely went unfulfilled. He was a high school dropout who earned his GED as part of a hiring bargain with his employer at the time. In the decade that followed, Elliott – by his own admission – drifted aimlessly from job to job without a guiding purpose to his life. He had an enduring passion for music but lacked the confidence to sing in front of an audience until about a year ago.
American Idol is the college his family never expected Elliott to enter, much less complete with honors. If his SAT was If You Really Love Me, then Moody’s Mood for Love was his Advanced Placement test. For extra credit, Elliott assigned himself the most challenging songs week after week – and nailed every one. Simon Cowell graded Elliott’s rendition of A Song for You as vocal master class quality. Out of the tens of thousands who auditioned for American Idol 5, Elliott finished third in his class. His impressive growth is due to his own determination to learn all he could from the show’s advisors, vocal coaches, judges, guest artists, and more experienced contestants.
In truth, American Idol is more like intensive vocational training than a performing arts program. Undeveloped talent is nurtured in the service of advertising and record sales. Naïve youngsters who flock to the contest with starry-eyed dreams may encounter a crass, exploitative franchise administered with nominal care for its protégés – unless it makes good television. Chris Daughtry was The Chosen One promoted throughout season five by the AI team – and even he was dismissed with brutal swiftness for maximum dramatic effect.
American Idol does not aspire to produce a valedictorian with exceptional singing talent – or even a genuine idol in the most honorable meaning of the word. Its far-from-lofty ambition is to assemble a cast entertaining enough to attract high ratings, identify at least one marketable talent among them who fits a readymade radio niche, and employ as many manipulations as the FCC allows to ensure the conclusion desired by its TV and music producers.
Every contest needs a winner – and the AI team was lucky to find theirs in Taylor Hicks, a self-taught music history scholar who may yet be worthy of the American Idol title. Five years of AI competition have spawned recording artists who, although failing to grasp the victor’s crown, can hardly be considered losers. Some, like Clay Aiken and Bo Bice, performed unselfish acts deserving of idolatry. But only a defining moment that triggers a groundswell of affection and admiration can create an authentic idol.
During the voting on top three night, Taylor and Katharine McPhee edged past Elliott with a narrow margin reminiscent of Ruben Studdard’s 2003 victory over Clay. The next evening, American Idol documented Elliott’s triumphant return to Richmond, Virginia, as the humble hometown hero who traveled to Hollywood in search of a golden opportunity – and discovered it within himself.
Had Elliott’s homecoming and retrospective videos aired 25 hours earlier, the results might have been a landslide with a different outcome. The AI brain trust would never allow a do-over – that is against the rules. But they cannot stop the audience from choosing its own champion.
As his proud mother – Claudette Yamin – said, her son’s vocal “talent is a given. But he’s such a good soul.” Set against a backdrop of adversity and disadvantage, Elliott’s inspirational character proved as endearing as his uncommon gift for singing. As his devoted fan base multiplied accordingly, the people pleaser grew into a crowd pleaser.
Recently I compared Elliott to the miracle Mets of New York. Baseball fans who remember the 1973 season recall with clarity how pitcher Tug McGraw’s battle cry – “Ya gotta believe!” – drove his team of underdogs from the National League cellar to the World Series. What is frequently forgotten is the Mets’ loss to the Oakland A’s in the seventh game of the World Series – an irrelevant footnote to one of the most thrilling achievements in sports history.
Just as his remarkable voice is ripe for recording now, Elliott’s story begs to be written by a modern day Horatio Alger and filmed by a contemporary Frank Capra – in due course. Graduation is called commencement with good reason. For Elliott, this is only the beginning.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
AI5 Anticlimax Celebrates Anti-Idols
Taylor Hicks has been crowned the 2006 winner of American Idol. The throwback reigned at the Kodak.
The best man left prevailed.
Elliott Yamin was my sentimental favorite – an underdog who motivated me to vote when the contestants still numbered in double digits. I saw greatness in Elliott’s talent and character but never dared to dream that he could outlast Mandisa Hundley, Ace Young, Kellie Pickler, Paris Bennett and Chris Daughtry. Taylor was my second favorite – and, as Elliott advanced, an increasingly distant second. When Elliott left, I forced myself to vote for Taylor – as if it were the bitterest medicine. Due to the expanded voting period and extra phone lines, I actually voted 30 minutes longer for Taylor than I ever had for Elliott. That felt just. Plain. Weird. But I knew then that I would be glad someday I did it – and I already am.
If your favorite was eliminated earlier in the competition, the lopsided showdown between Hicks and Katharine McPhee likely seemed anticlimactic. With so many strong vocalists in the top five, their sizable fan bases felt detached from the contest’s conclusion. Special guests and other surprises planned by the crew provided the only genuine drama in what was widely regarded as the most entertaining season finale in AI history.
As my husband was quick to remind me, he predicted Taylor’s ascendancy the first time we saw him in the auditions – exactly as he had done for Clay Aiken. Despite obvious disparities in style and appearance, Taylor and Clay have much in common within the context of American Idol. Both inspired the fierce devotion of followers who founded and populated large internet communities. Both incurred the chronic contempt of Simon Cowell who, in his myopic vision, could not foresee either as a singing star. Both received enough votes each week all the way through their respective seasons to keep them out of the group identified as the bottom two or three.
Although not the technical winner of season two, Clay was the first contestant to release an album – with the gracious permission of Ruben Studdard – and the contestant who earned the highest sales that year. Clay used his popularity as leverage to record a debut free of sexual content that he would be proud to let children hear. RCA, under the Sony/BMG umbrella, didn’t seem to appreciate Clay’s talent or understand how to present it. Measure of a Man was a good pop album – owing to Clay’s determination to select the most appropriate songs offered to him and vocals too strong for the studio Bandzilla to bury – but hardly the showcase he needed or deserved.
Like Clay, Taylor defied the odds and those who called him too odd to win. Taylor may face the same uphill battle for creative control, but he enjoys important advantages, including unusual sticktuitiveness. A decade ago, he dropped out of Auburn University to move to Nashville, where he began to chase his once elusive dream. When he told his father he was auditioning for American Idol, Brad Hicks said, "Why don't you just go buy a lottery ticket?" He is a songwriter-musician with an impeccable ear for his own sound and a steady eye for the right musical direction. His passionate reverence for soul, rock ‘n’ roll, rhythm & blues, and country honors the legacy of his forebears – and gives him broad appeal across a wider variety of genres and radio formats than any AI predecessor before him.
From the start I admired Taylor and expected him to win. He charmed me with his unembarrassed zeal for performing – the physical manifestation of his incorruptible faith in music. His victory was a vindication of his faith and his music, which overcame months of careless handling and cynical manipulations. After the AI producers forced Taylor to switch love songs at nearly the last minute, I noted that he looked wounded. In his new interview with Rolling Stone, he compared his AI experience to “dancing with the devil.” As Clay might attest, nothing exorcises demons like the triumphant success of an anti-idol.
Clay’s astonishing return to the program that launched his career was a highlight of the season five finale. Every tentative, deliberate step back onto the AI stage carried the weight of many milestones and millstones since his own anticlimactic exit three long years ago. Seeing his stylish new look and mature, confident demeanor was almost like meeting Clay again for the first time. As he took command of the microphone, his voice was instantly familiar and yet as thrilling as ever.
Artists who create and sustain such a potent connection are blessed with a special gift that cannot be manufactured by TV or recording industry moguls. Compelling performers like Clay and Taylor make the audience believe in the power of music to transcend and transform.
Taylor believes – with the wishful innocence of a child on Christmas morning. Taylor has the gift – and the conviction of a man who has long sacrificed for his art. You could say he waited a lifetime for a moment like this.
The best man left prevailed.
Elliott Yamin was my sentimental favorite – an underdog who motivated me to vote when the contestants still numbered in double digits. I saw greatness in Elliott’s talent and character but never dared to dream that he could outlast Mandisa Hundley, Ace Young, Kellie Pickler, Paris Bennett and Chris Daughtry. Taylor was my second favorite – and, as Elliott advanced, an increasingly distant second. When Elliott left, I forced myself to vote for Taylor – as if it were the bitterest medicine. Due to the expanded voting period and extra phone lines, I actually voted 30 minutes longer for Taylor than I ever had for Elliott. That felt just. Plain. Weird. But I knew then that I would be glad someday I did it – and I already am.
If your favorite was eliminated earlier in the competition, the lopsided showdown between Hicks and Katharine McPhee likely seemed anticlimactic. With so many strong vocalists in the top five, their sizable fan bases felt detached from the contest’s conclusion. Special guests and other surprises planned by the crew provided the only genuine drama in what was widely regarded as the most entertaining season finale in AI history.
As my husband was quick to remind me, he predicted Taylor’s ascendancy the first time we saw him in the auditions – exactly as he had done for Clay Aiken. Despite obvious disparities in style and appearance, Taylor and Clay have much in common within the context of American Idol. Both inspired the fierce devotion of followers who founded and populated large internet communities. Both incurred the chronic contempt of Simon Cowell who, in his myopic vision, could not foresee either as a singing star. Both received enough votes each week all the way through their respective seasons to keep them out of the group identified as the bottom two or three.
Although not the technical winner of season two, Clay was the first contestant to release an album – with the gracious permission of Ruben Studdard – and the contestant who earned the highest sales that year. Clay used his popularity as leverage to record a debut free of sexual content that he would be proud to let children hear. RCA, under the Sony/BMG umbrella, didn’t seem to appreciate Clay’s talent or understand how to present it. Measure of a Man was a good pop album – owing to Clay’s determination to select the most appropriate songs offered to him and vocals too strong for the studio Bandzilla to bury – but hardly the showcase he needed or deserved.
Like Clay, Taylor defied the odds and those who called him too odd to win. Taylor may face the same uphill battle for creative control, but he enjoys important advantages, including unusual sticktuitiveness. A decade ago, he dropped out of Auburn University to move to Nashville, where he began to chase his once elusive dream. When he told his father he was auditioning for American Idol, Brad Hicks said, "Why don't you just go buy a lottery ticket?" He is a songwriter-musician with an impeccable ear for his own sound and a steady eye for the right musical direction. His passionate reverence for soul, rock ‘n’ roll, rhythm & blues, and country honors the legacy of his forebears – and gives him broad appeal across a wider variety of genres and radio formats than any AI predecessor before him.
From the start I admired Taylor and expected him to win. He charmed me with his unembarrassed zeal for performing – the physical manifestation of his incorruptible faith in music. His victory was a vindication of his faith and his music, which overcame months of careless handling and cynical manipulations. After the AI producers forced Taylor to switch love songs at nearly the last minute, I noted that he looked wounded. In his new interview with Rolling Stone, he compared his AI experience to “dancing with the devil.” As Clay might attest, nothing exorcises demons like the triumphant success of an anti-idol.
Clay’s astonishing return to the program that launched his career was a highlight of the season five finale. Every tentative, deliberate step back onto the AI stage carried the weight of many milestones and millstones since his own anticlimactic exit three long years ago. Seeing his stylish new look and mature, confident demeanor was almost like meeting Clay again for the first time. As he took command of the microphone, his voice was instantly familiar and yet as thrilling as ever.
Artists who create and sustain such a potent connection are blessed with a special gift that cannot be manufactured by TV or recording industry moguls. Compelling performers like Clay and Taylor make the audience believe in the power of music to transcend and transform.
Taylor believes – with the wishful innocence of a child on Christmas morning. Taylor has the gift – and the conviction of a man who has long sacrificed for his art. You could say he waited a lifetime for a moment like this.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
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