Our New Life
I was listening to the radio yesterday and heard a charming little song with a nice melody, an affecting swell in the strings in the middle section and an active bassline. Not at all rocky or funky which would normally make me take notice, you realise, merely pleasant.
I'd never heard the song before and a search bar was handy so I typed in a few of the lyrics I was hearing to find what the song was. Turned out it was a single by a chap called Max Gazzè from 2004 called ‘La Nostra Vita Nuova.’ Here's a link to the video on YouTube if you're at all curious. The video reminds us that the masculine wonder of the healthy moustache lives on in Italy and I, for one, am pleased to see it.
There is an odd thing that happened during the day and a half since then: I have found myself playing the song over and over. It has bewitched me. I am utterly besotted with this beautiful little song.
I like the way the simple, almost one-note, verse contrasts with the sweet melody of what I'm calling the chorus. And then there is the genius of repeating the word “diverso, diverso” at the end of the chorus. The word is the same at each of the three choruses so it sticks in your mind and yet the things that are “different, different” each time are themselves different. A quirky touch.
And there is that dramatic middle bit. Glorious. Cheers me right up and I sing along happily. It is in the key of A while the rest of the song is in D and you can really hear how the key change pushes the middle bit out.
The tritoney riff at the end was a mistake in my opinion but serves me well as a reminder to hit that rewind button again.
On the rare occasions when I write a song, I'm conscious of avoiding writing songs that are driven by the bassline as I don't like the thought of people saying “oh that song has a good bassline. Who wrote the song? The bass player? Well, that explains it” — as, of course, people inevitably would. You know what they're like — cunts that they are. As for this song's interesting bassline? Max Gazzè is a bass player. Well, that explains it.
Labels: masculine wonder, sorry about the swearing
6 Comments:
I quite like the tritone riff thingy at the end. A charming song. I grow a pretty strong moustache and have often lamented that, fashionwise, I am something of a man out of time. I have to grow the surrounding (and sadly not correspondingly strong) beard as camouflage.
The common Australian position on the moustache, being that it shalt not be worn lest ye been made a foole of, obviously means that it is about to become the hottest item about. See what happened to trousers. Time once was that you pointed fingers and sniggered at people when their pants fell down in public. That's now how every single boy under thirty dresses.
This post wasn't meant to be about fashion though, I merely wanted to share something musical and to try my hand at a bit of analysis. Here's another little point of note (to me, at least). The rhythm slips from the jaunty 6/8 in the verses to the more driving 3/4 in the other bits. Keeps things interesting.
interestingly, when I click on your link Paddy, all I get is a message from youtube telling me that this content is blocked in the country I am in.
So what is it? Some kinds of moustache porn? urther evidence that the AIDS virus exists and is not simply a conspiracy wrought by the jews?
I had my first dinner in South Efrika last night. I asked the waitress i she could recommend any local delicacies, she said she would bring me something special i I trusted her and left the choosing to her. I thought 'what the hell, let's be adventurous.'
Ended up with a chicken schnitzel and chips. Plus side salad (with "special dressing")
Pretty clearly a balsamic vinaigrette I would have thought.
How vexing.
Hi Silky, forget the moustache. It's not important. If you get near a computer where you can play music, try Grooveshark and see if that works in South Africa (national dish: the schnitz, apparently. I liked that anecdote).
I see that South Africans not only dislike sweet Italian ballads but also the 'f' key on their computers. That's fair enough, I say. No good words have 'f' in them.
I would like to point out that there were five 'f's in Silky-D's comment. You should be ashamed, Silk Dawg. Five!
Yikes. There are also five 'f's in this post. Eep.
don't hate the country, hate the corporate overlords.
airfax has given me a crappy laptop with an extremely unreliable eff key.
FFS.
(I typed that last bit with hammer blows on said key, like a Bruce Lee one finger death punch.)
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