ONLY NOISE: Remembering Dolores O’Riordan

When the Cranberries released their debut record Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We? I was not quite four years old. It was 1993, and two household DJs named Mom and Dad would determine my musical tastes for at least another five years. Those years passed quickly. By the time we were on the heels of a new millennium, I was finally catching up with the ’90s and the music that had shaped my first decade on Earth. Eventually, I would catch up with the Cranberries, too.

Interestingly enough, my introduction to the Cranberries (and the vast majority of ’90s music) did not come in the form of a mix CD or radio broadcast, but in soundtracks for film and television. Fragments of Cranberries songs must have drifted into my limbic system as I watched Clueless, Charmed, and countless reruns of Beverly Hills 90210. In 1995, 90210 staged a first kiss between oafish Steve Sanders and relative newcomer Clare Arnold while the Cranberries’ hit “Dreams” played softly in the background. “Dreams” made several other cameos, notably on the soundtrack of the 1998 rom-com You’ve Got Mail. This was an era when everyone looked forward to the latest Tom Hanks flick, so there’s no doubt that the movie was a vital text in my Cranberries 101 course.

At some point, the songs I’d heard coalesced, and a whole record came into focus. Scrolling past the plastic spines in my parents’ CD collection, I found Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?. Now that I think about it, that copy must have belonged to my stepmother – she had a small store of Cranberries’ albums wedged between my dad’s Chris Isaak and Crowded House discs. Listening to Everybody Else in full allowed me to acknowledge the Cranberries as something other than film score footnotes. Only a decade late to the party, I finally recognized Everybody Else for what it truly was: a downright masterpiece. Now, days after losing the Cranberries’ heart and soul Dolores O’Riordan, I turn to that masterpiece in remembrance.

Given the concealed details of 46-year-old O’Riordan’s sudden death, it’s difficult not to speculate on what may have happened. The singer/songwriter had a history of mental heath issues, and it’s easy to jump to conclusions when that factor hints at contextualizing her unexplained death. For the sake of respect I will not make any assumptions. However O’Riordan’s passing does draw a darker shade on her body of work. She was the band’s chief lyricist, and the words she sang on the Cranberries’ first record – the one I hold the most dear – often clashed with the gorgeous melodies her band was so adept at crafting. Songs like “I Still Do” and chart topper “Linger” were studies in the bittersweet; the latter frequently passed off as a honeyed love ballad despite its gut-wrenching testimony of desire and rejection. “You know I’m such a fool for you/You got me wrapped around your finger,” O’Riordan cries in the song’s well-known chorus. “Do you have to let it linger?” The song’s striking arrangement was matched only by those universal words.

Thinking of the word “bittersweet,” I am only now realizing its relevance to everything about the Cranberries – their music, their end, even their name. Though it’s unlikely that the band had conceptual coherence in mind when they chose the name (they were first billed as The Cranberry Saw Us), nothing could be more apt a title than the tart and astringent fruit, one that only sweetens with added sugar. This sugarcoating revealed itself on “Dreams,” which reached #42 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1994. “Dreams” is the outlier on Everybody Else, its blissed out major chords amplifying O’Riordan’s firsthand account of falling in love. There is nothing snide or ironic in her lyrics, just occasional caution. O’Riordan first dips a toe in the pool to test the temperature before splashing head first into a new relationship. “And now I tell you openly/You have my heart so don’t hurt me,” she warns, before yielding “Oh my life is changing everyday… /’Cause you’re a dream to me.” It is a rare moment of un-soured hope, the kind we’ve all cradled when following our hearts into uncharted territory.

O’Riordan and the Cranberries possessed a rare voice in music, one that was instantly recognizable from the moment they began. It was a timeless voice, too. Listening to Everybody Else today does not feel like I’ve boarded a time machine to 1993. The record retains an uncommon relevance, sounding at once of and beyond its time. If any of its songs were released today, they would sound just as fresh, honest, and gorgeous as they did 25 years ago. Dolores O’Riordan left behind a legacy of exceptional art in those 25 years. While art is no substitute for a human being, it is an eternal gift by which to remember one.

LIVE REVIEW: The Smashing Pumpkins @The Beacon Theatre

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To say The Smashing Pumpkins performed at the Beacon Theatre Wednesday night would be a misnomer. As the band has reshuffled and frontman Billy Corgan has become a celebrity in his own right, accruing social media followers for his menagerie of rescue pets and making the tabloids for his son’s birth last year, Millennials and Gen-Xers have tucked the adored Smashing Pumpkins of the 90s away in the past with their CD collections. And that’s where they belong.

On Wednesday night, there were traces of the sounds that musically illustrated our high school romances, but the only threads connecting the influential alt-rock band that brought us “Bullet With Butterfly Wings” and “1979” and the one currently on its In Plainsong tour are Corgan and drummer Jimmy Chamberlain, and even their collaborations have become barely recognizable as The Smashing Pumpkins. Their most recent album, 2014’s Monuments to an Elegy, is also their poppiest and least distinctive.
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This wouldn’t be a bad thing if the band could top or even match its previous work. But viewing performances of Corgan’s solo songs and tracks The Smashing Pumpkins recorded during the latter portion of their 28-year run felt a bit like watching a band at a wedding. The members, which also included guitarist Jeff Schroeder, bassist/singer/guitarist Katie Cole, and keyboardist/singer/bassist Sierra Swan, appeared to be entertaining the crowd out of obligation, perhaps because it was their third night in a row at the venue.
The evening’s gems were the classics that almost let the audience pretend they were blasting them, windows rolled down, in the first cars they drove. Corgan played gorgeous acoustic versions of “Tonight, Tonight” and “Greatest Day” that ended too soon and updated “Disarm” with organ sounds produced on a keyboard. Corgan and Schroeder also performed a haunting cover of “Jesus, I/Mary Star of the Sea” by Zwan, which Corgan and Chamberlain formed while The Smashing Pumpkins disbanded from 2000-2006.
Liz Phair’s opening performance was another highlight. The singer-songwriter known for sassy rock hits and catchy pop ballads that capture modern single womanhood stood alone with her guitar, setting the stage (pun intended) for an evening of acoustic throwbacks.
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Classics like “Fuck and Run” and “Extraordinary” that hit 20- and 30-something women a little too close to home became raw and emotive with no accompanying instrumentals making them radio-ready. With the audience belting along, the performance seemed to take place around a campfire rather than at a large concert hall. She introduced her set by saying “welcome to my TED Talk” and closed with, “I guess the TED Talk is about love and loss in the modern age, or what happens when you’re an independent-minded woman with gumption who can’t find a man.” Yup, too close to home.
It would have been naive to expect Corgan or Phair to singlehandedly bring the 90s back. But they did give the audience a chance to relive those years for a few precious moments.

VIDEO REVIEW: Kimbra “90s Music”

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A still from Kimbra’s latest music video, “90s Music”.

About a month ago, Kimbra released her latest song, “90s Music” in preparation for her sophomore album The Golden Echo, out Aug. 19 in the U.S. via Warner Bros. Records. The official music video for the track that followed a few weeks later is so loaded with nostalgic imagery and bubblegum goodness that it has taken me this long to process everything into a coherent review that does not just include me flailing about and emitting high-pitched squeals.

To many, Kimbra might be known as “that one girl who was on that one Gotye song that really blew up” but to others, she’s the singer-songwriter from New Zealand who released a stunning debut album in 2011 that was full of retro vibes and soul-pop perfection. Vows showcased Kimbra’s vocal and songwriting prowess and her music videos and live performances revealed her eclectic style and confident yet quirky dancing. The album climbed to the top 5 in charts in both New Zealand and Australia and in the US, it reached the top 20 on the Billboard 200. She was slated to tour with Janelle Monáe, an artist also known for her eccentric style, but it was cancelled after Monáe fell ill. It’s a damn shame that all we have to remind us of what could’ve been is this swoon-worthy promo video for the tour, but we’ll take what we can get.

There’s little anyone can do to prepare  for the sensory overload that is “90s Music;” Kimbra’s last single from Vows, “Come into My Head,” shares elements of having a fresh take on soul throwback, with lots of trumpets and funky bass, but is practically minimalist by comparison. On this latest single, auto-tuned references to 90’s pop stars like Aaliyah, Mariah Carey and TLC sound like a cassette tape rewinding several decades, Kimbra’s forceful voice squeezed into a rapid-fire falsetto.

On “90s Music,” there’s little hint of the somebody we used to know, and that’s why I’m 100% in love with this song. It’s a delight to see her pushing musical boundaries, exploring new styles and dabbling in wordplay, and having fun as well. Both the song and the video work well as an homage to a Lisa Frank-ified era, but at its core, we see how absolutely enamored Kimbra is with music, making it, and performing it, and it’s infectious.

The video seethes with an uncontainable energy: all bright colors, animated Trapper Keeper patterns, kinetic dancing reminiscent of Missy Elliott’s bombastic offerings. Kimbra’s crazy wardrobe takes some definite cues from the “Supafly” rapper, her over-the-top outfits paired with vibrant makeup and equally uniquely dressed backup dancers. Not only does this correlation bring out some of the hip-hop influence at work on the track, it successfully references the hey day of the big-budget, blockbuster videos that dominated MTV’s TRL and cast performers as larger than-life superstars, from Biggie and Puff in “Mo’ Money, Mo’ Problems” to Gwen Stefani in No Doubt’s “Spiderwebs” video, to Busta Rhymes in… well, everything. But Kimbra is smart when it comes to stylistic appropriation, updating her brand of nostalgia when necessary, and providing ample shout-outs to her major sources of inspiration. Throughout it all, Kimbra’s carefree spirit, dynamic originality and exceptional talent take center stage.

You can pre-order The Golden Echo on iTunes and get an instant download of “90s Music,” “Love in High Places” and “Nothing But You.” These songs are sure to top every summer jam playlist, but don’t be surprised if the album becomes a critical favorite of 2014.

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