SOUNDTRACK: DIRTY PROJECTORS-Tiny Desk Concert #809 (December 4, 2018).
In my head Dirty Projectors are a noisy, chaotic band who make weird songs. But this Concert could not be further from that understanding.
The music is beautiful, the harmonies are outstanding and the instrumentation is gentle and pretty.
The blurb seems to suggest that the music is often quirky:
Dirty Projectors’ eighth album is often loving and forgiving. It’s full of the quirks of production and rhythm and rhyme that had me fall for their music when I first heard it about a dozen years ago.
and maybe some of their earlier music exaggerates the quirks. But watching this band with their acoustic guitars and candles makes this a delightfully warm and sweet Tiny Desk.
When Dirty Projectors let us know they couldn’t make it to the band’s Tiny Desk performance until late in the day, we were sad because the clocks had recently turned back for the fall, we knew that our beautiful, natural light would be gone and it’d be dark. But with candles left over from a late-winter day performance by Rhye — and some LED panels and spots — we were set up right on time for David Longstreth to sing these words: “The sky has darkened, earth turned to hell / Some said a light got shined where darkness dwelt / So I won’t cry or collapse, overwhelmed / Time like a song just might rhyme with itself.” What’s wonderful about this Tiny Desk Concert is watching these talented people arrange this complicated music without amplification and seeing the joy on their face when it all worked out.
The band plays three songs:
The first one, “That’s a Lifestyle” has such a delightful guitar melody. I love it. I also love that the three female singers sometimes harmonize, sometime follow and sometimes both. Felicia Douglass (vocals, percussion, keys), sings “that’s a” over and over while Kristin Slipp (vocals, Rhodes, Wurlitzer), follows each instance with a series of words. I also love that both Longstreth and Maia Friedman (vocals, guitar), are playing this wonderfully complex guitar section–while he sings leads and she contributes extra backing vocals as well.
“Right Now” has a great middle section where Douglass sings the first “Now… Now” and then Friedman and Slipp harmonize the repeated “nows” after that. Slipp plays an awesome little melody on the keyboard as well. And all along there’s a rather complicated guitar going throughout.
Nat Baldwin (bass) switches between finger plucked and bowing on the upright bass to add yet more textures to the music.
“What Is The Time?” opens with a wonderfully complicated drum pattern (Mike Johnson) before settling down into more delicate folk. There’s more gorgeous harmonies on the chorus and an amusing moment where the lyrics are “say hello” and Longstreth waves “Hey, NPR.”
All in all, this blew away all my expectations for Dirty Projectors and was a great Tiny Desk. I’ll have to explore their music a little more.
[READ: January 18, 2017] “Spiderweb”
This is a very long story in which not a lot happens, but in which tension builds and builds between major characters.
The narrator goes to visit her aunt and uncle in Corrientes:
My aunt and my uncle were the custodians of the memory of my mother, their favorite sister, who was killed in a stupid accident when I was seventeen.
But the aunt isn’t happy about the situation: “You got married and we haven’t even met your husband! How is that possible? You’re hiding him from us?” She explains:
She laughs it off, but indeed she was hiding him. She fell in love quickly and married impetuously and now she was stuck with Juan Martín, who irritated and bored her. They travel down to meet the aunt and uncle and the aunt’s assessment is “it could be worse.”
But her cousin, Natalia is far more blunt.
Juan Martín didn’t like Natalia: “he didn’t find her physically attractive…he also looked down on Natalia because she read cards, knew home remedies and, worst of all, communicated with spirits.” The narrator had even thought about asking Natalia for a recipe for a poison.
The next day the three of them go to Asunción. Natalia needs some fabrics. The trip is boring and monotonous–it was also too noisy for the narrator to talk to Natalia about her husband who slept on thee back seat.
The trip was designed for Natalia to get some fabric. So they set off to the market. When they get there Juan Martín acts privileged and like a “citified prick.” He claims that everything is contraband and that everyone is a criminal. After a day of disgust Juan Martin has had it. The title comes from the fabric:
I thought about why ñandutí was called “spiderweb” cloth. It must have had to do with the weaving technique, because the end result looked more like a peacock’s tail: feathers with eyes, beautiful but disturbing.
When they get to a cafe and men are harassing the waitress Juan Martín is about to get involved. But the narrator stops him, she knows that they would arrest all three of them and rape her “fucking little gringa, fucking Argentine,”
They want to get out of Paraguay and back to Argentina,. But on the way home the car stalls. Juan Martín yells at Natalia for the car stalling and then goes out to look at it. But he comes running back in saying a snake ran over his foot.
Eventually a truck comes by and Natalia got in the truck to get a lift to the city. They started to worry about her, but mechanics did arrive–and proceeded to yell at Juan Martín for having the radio on (something he insisted on doing).
They finally get towed to a hotel and decide to crash for the night–Natalia with the handsome blond tucker, the narrator stuck with her husband.
At the meal, they tell stories, but Juan Martín excuses himself. Does the narrator take advantage of this opportunity? The ending offers hope but also concern for all.
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