Monday, January 17, 2011

23rd...Purists will scoff



September Songs. Four and a half stars.

Another exception to my "no compilations" rule in reviewing, because you won't find half of this material anywhere else, and it's easier to get it here.

To clear the history, this is the soundtrack the music/art film by Larry Weinstein, which was itself inspired by the Hal Wilner 1985 Kurt Weill tribute album Lost in the Stars, which I would love to hear. Wilner also helped construct this tribute album.

Now Kurt Weill was a German composer who also took in the mediums of cabaret, jazz...in a word, popular songs. He collaborated several times with poet/playwright Bertolt Brecht (most notably in the Threepenny Opera), and after settling in America, amazingly, while his music lost radicalism, lyrical quality did not go down.

This overview came out in 1997 and contains (in almost 70 minutes!) a reasonable overview, from traditional versions in German, to modern updated spins that will offend the purists. If you want the real Kurt Weill, go hunt up some Lotte Lenya recordings.

Introductions over, let's look at the songs...

Mack the Knife is the signature song from Threepenny, picked up by Bobby Darin, Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong and others. Funny, since it details the (Many) victims of a murderer. Of course, Nick Cave sings it here, with his usual histrionic aplomb. The backing band is different from the Bad Seeds and supplies demented, woozy brass.

We get PJ Harvey next, doing a standout spin on Brecht's poem Ballad of the Soldier's Wife. The lyric is ingenious, as the soldier sends clothing back from each European city he's encamped at. Her voice and the music carry off the idea with drama and finesse.

David Johansen gets together with some others and runs through Alabama Song. This one's popularity astonishes me. Herky jerky rhythms, lousy lyrics (proof that even poets misfire, and what the hell was he writing about America for anyway?) and on this one, a prissy falsetto girl in backups. I've never the Doors version, but Bowie's was godawful, so I don't hold out much hope.

Youkali Tango is a high class, traditional version. Sung by opera soprano Teresa Stratas, backed only by piano and accordion. Her voice is all that really matters and is suitably incredible.

Elvis Costello and the Brodsky Quartet keep things old-fashioned. Lost in the Stars comes from one of Weill's American musicals, and while it is theatrical, Elvis does a good job with a touching song.

Lotte Lenya hardly pauses for breath, leaps right into Threepenny's Pirate Jenny. I wish I knew German, as this old cabaret tune sounds fascinating.

With that story over, we get a lengthy introduction to the classic Speak Low, courtesy of Charlie Haden's excellent upright bass. Ogden Nash wrote the lyric (how he of nonsense verse managed it, I'll never know), but what a surprise when the piano slowly enters the picture and then an old recording of Kurt Weill himself singing it! His accent as he sings English, the far off, dim sound of the recording and the simple fact of its antiquity drive home the meaning of the song even better than the words.

Returning to The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny (from whence came Alabama) we get O Heavenly Salvation, as interpreted by the Persuasions. A Capella, though it hardly registers, as there is nothing missing. Real gospel, singing a hymn of thanks to God.

Betty Carter is one of the few names on the CD I draw a complete blank at. Her Lonely House (from Street Scene, to which Langston Hughes contributed this lyric) is a whopping seven minutes of acute loneliness. Her jazz arrangement and astonishing voice make this one of the most evocative and sad tracks.

Teresa Stratas is favoured with an unnecessary reprise, and picks up the pace with Surabaya Johnny. It comes from a lesser known Weill/Brecht collaboration. She sounds like she's saying goodbye to Johnny, and runs through a bunch of moods with that voice, but also comes across as an actress, taking away sincerity.

From the same piece (Happy End) Mary Margaret O'Hara arranges Furchte dich nicht. It is in English, with free-form jazz and a completely demented vocal. I don't know a thing about this woman, but this one tips straight over into avant-garde.

Emotional finale comes with eight minutes of September Song as done by Lou Reed. A ballad in electric guitar tackling the same heavy theme of "time" as Speak Low, only written by Maxwell Anderson (who wrote Lost in the Stars). Sublime.

Then comes a brief coda: the original, fuzzy recording of Mack the Knife, as sung by Bertolt Brecht himself. Priceless. Even following Lou Reed, is this ever good. Full circle.

The problem of pacing appears at the end. William S. Burroughs reads What Keeps Mankind Alive? It should have followed O'Hara, being avant-garde, as befits a work performed by the Selfhaters Orchestra. Supremely pessimistic (realistic, you might say) and Brecht would probably be pleased to have it as the end, but I just find it off-putting.

Okay, so if Alabama and Surabaya were chopped out, and Burroughs moved to before or after O'Hara, this would be perfect. As is, still an excellent CD, great for a bohemian crowd, great for a fire lit night all alone, great for an introduction to the music of Kurt Weill.

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