I'd Love to Turn You On #233 - Bibio - Ambivalence Avenue

Bibio’s 2009 record Ambivalence Avenue is a great blending of electronic and folk elements. Bibio takes a surprising number of influences and blends them into a uniquely listenable experience. He is comfortable in multiple genres. He gently sings and strums, he creates ethereal sound collages, he uses naturalistic ambient samples, and he recreates the slinky funk of Sly and the Family Stone to be the rhythmic bed of a song. The impressive feat is that Ambivalence Avenue is comprehensive as a whole while containing a variety of styles, yet does not come off as scattered or rambling. The acoustic tracks feel warm, positive, and summery, and the electronic tracks are cool, groovy, and sonically searching. Ambivalence Avenue is a record that alternates between acoustic singer-songwriter type tracks and more dance-influenced instrumentals. The instrumentals focus on textural variations and explorations, while the singer-songwriter songs focus on universal human themes.

The song "Ambivalence Avenue" opens the record. It is a loping happy song describing an idealistic avenue with white hotels, trees, and an amber colored sun. “Watching ourselves as if seeing our future” - we are not exactly sure who is with the singer, but they are greeted by strangers who seem to be friends. Then they were escorted thru a Red Door Bibio goes on to say, but that is where his daydream ends. A quick look into the symbolism of a red door will tell us that it means welcome in the Eastern philosophy of Feng Shui, in early American culture, or means protection in Biblical times. It seems very in line with the theme of welcoming friends. The music is joyous and comforting, with melodies answering sung verses. After Bibio sings of his daydream ending the song plays on instrumentally for a minute or so.

"Jealous of the Roses" has a Sly and the Family Stone groove to it, but speaks of a melancholy soul, who is, as the title says, “Jealous of the Roses” and believes in specific times and places for happiness. The R&B groove contrasts with pensive lyrics which also contrast thematically with the first song. The first song talks of welcoming and friendship in a wishful daydream state. The second song speaks to jealousy, unhappiness, and to love as conformity. The second song uses the pronoun “you” so it seems clear that Bibio is speaking to someone else and that these views are not his own. This song is a great example of Bibio’s subtlety. The feel of the song pulling in a slightly different direction than the lyrical content. "All the Flowers" is an acoustic song with guitars and vocals. The song uses a flower as a symbol of being present in the current moment, and not caught up in the past or future. This can be taken as a statement on “mindfulness” that seems to be sweeping our culture currently but it may also reflect an underlying Eastern philosophy in Bibio when taken into consideration with the Red Door in track one.

"Fire Ant" is a sonic mish-mash of samples and sounds intricately woven into a groove. It begins using an ambient sample of children playing with music heard faintly in the background. A rhythmic foundation is introduced and different sounds are interjected above the groove. His choices of sounds truly are abstract and random. It is using repetition as a tool of development that we as listeners begin to be comfortable with these sounds as part of Bibio’s musical language. It sounds as if different vowel sounds such as "e," "a," and the words "ahh," "la," and "ga," have been sampled, treated with vibrato effects and made to duel each other. Eventually the groove cuts out and it is replaced with a single line, reverb-drenched synth plucking haphazardly along.

"Haikuesque (When She Laughs)" is an introspective song made up of a string of haikus. Some of the haikus are naturalistic, some of them are observational, and some of them repeated. The haiku that the title refers to goes: When she laughs/ The piano in the hall/ Plays a quiet note, comparing a woman’s laughter to music in an indirect, but poetic way. Another favorite of mine is Rocking chair/Is still without a rocker/But is still a chair. It has a sense of questioning: why is the chair still, because nobody is rocking it, no entity, or is it referring to the bottom arch that allows the chair to rock? The questioning, the duality, and the searching are all aspects that appear in multiple places throughout the record. The music for this song is more acoustic than electronic providing a gentle bed for the lyrics.

The next track "Sugarette" is a contrasting chugging, electronic piece with cut up vocals buried far in the mix. The texture consists of bubbling and gurgling mechanical beeps and bloops. It seems to be a sonic palette cleanser from the acoustic song that preceded it. The name seems to be a reference to this, but the question of how it functions within the diorama of Ambivalence Avenue must be guessed at since the meaning of the lyrics are so buried and disguised. How is it intended to function? My theory is that Bibio expresses emotional connection with lyrics and naturalistic sounds, and lets the programmed songs represent a more removed and less emotional space. These spaces are more about energy and movement, and less about some of the emotions that are involved in the songs with lyrics.

"Lovers’ Carvings" is an acoustic, lyrical track with a two-minute instrumental introduction. The content of the lyrics points to the enduring nature of love. The carvings may fade like a set of initials carved in a bench or a tree, but always remain and can be found to exist many years later. The music starts out with a guitar developing a theme in a solo context and after a bit a percussive cowbell sets a slightly faster tempo and the song is fleshed out with a rhythm section and vocals. This track has such a great feel to it, and just adds layers and builds up until the end. The concept is simple but the execution is impressive. "The Palm of Your Wave" is a melancholy last look back. Bibio uses the iconic imagery of waiting for a train in cold weather. How many movies has this played out in? A last wave from a cold train station. And the last thing I save is the palm oh you wave/ Oh, This moment please be forever. It seems to be an idealistic way to remember or reach out to a memory or a loved one. The music once again is a just a guitar and a voice.

"Cry! Baby!" and "Dwrcan" are both instrumental songs with masterful production. They both further point to an aspect of duality within the record - Bibio can be a producer and programmer, and also a singer-songwriter who tackles complex emotional themes. Why the duality in sounds? What does each represent? If separated perhaps two separate albums could be made, one of acoustic songs with lyrics, and one of programmed beats. Two songs might overlap, but instead of making two records Bibio has chosen to combine all the tracks on Ambivalence Avenue.

I originally started listening to this record because of the electronic tracks. I have to admit that after many repeated listens the lyrics have won me over and I now enjoy the introspective acoustic tracks more than the instrumentals. They have a wistfulness to them, almost like an old black and white film. Daydreaming of welcoming friends, jealousy, laughter, timeless love, and longingly looking to the past, these songs examine some universal themes. If you’re not already a fan I’d love to turn you on to Bibio’s Ambivalence Avenue.

-          Doug Anderson

I’d Love To Turn You On At The Movies #192 - A Serious Man (2009, dir. Joel & Ethan Coen)

          Joel and Ethan Coen have been my favorite filmmakers for almost my entire life, whether I knew it or not. I’m pretty sure that I had watched 1987’s Raising Arizona around fifty times when I was a kid, before I had any interest in who created it. Later, I became obsessed with their nineties films. Fargo, which came out when I was in high school, was a real stepping stone for me as it was probably the reason for my interest in the deeper aspects of filmmaking and for my eventual foray into film as an academic pursuit. And, as cliché as it may be for a male of my age, 1998’s The Big Lebowski is one of my all-time favorite films, if not my all-time favorite. My point is, the Coens have been with me for the better part of my life, seemingly putting out a new film for every phase I’ve gone through. I’ve studied them closely over the years and almost consider them friends that I grew up with. And for this reason alone, I feel qualified to talk about their work.

            Writing about A Serious Man technically breaks the rules of this blog as it’s just under 10 years old. But of all the brothers’ works, I wanted to write about this film the most because it’s not only possibly the most overlooked film in the Coens’ oeuvre, it’s also a film whose subject matter I simultaneously relate to yet know very little about. More on that later. A Serious Man revolves around a Jewish family living in a small Minnesota suburb in 1967, all details that pertain directly to the Coens’ upbringing. So while not strictly autobiographical, these are characters and surroundings that are familiar to the brothers. The always phenomenal Michael Stuhlbarg plays the film’s protagonist Larry Gopnik, a college physics professor whose life begins unraveling when his wife announces she is leaving him for his best friend. This forces him to take a closer look at his life and notice the flaws that he hadn’t previously seen. His son is acting out in Hebrew School, his daughter steals money from him all the time, his unemployed brother-in-law is leeching off of him and he is being simultaneously bribed and blackmailed by one of his students for a more satisfactory grade. When everything goes wrong for Larry, he seeks the guidance of three rabbis to help him get through his crisis and gain a better understanding of his place in the world. The rabbis unfortunately are no help to him, as one lacks the life experience to relate to Larry’s problems, one just offers irrelevant parables that confuse more than they teach and the last one refuses to even see Larry. He begins questioning his faith and wondering whether God is testing him.

            I think part of what makes this film such an underappreciated part of the Coens’ filmography is that, coming out on the heels of Best Picture winner No Country for Old Men just two years prior, A Serious Man is more of a labor of love than their usual undertaking. While the film’s dark humor is pure Coens, it seems like it could be a story that the brothers have had kicking around for years, perhaps dating back to their own days as young Jewish Midwesterners. The cast is made up of largely unknown actors, relatively speaking, and even the way it’s shot seems different than that of their usual cinematography, almost more like a thriller than a comedy. While these facts may deter some from seeing the movie, opting for one of the Coens’ more critically acclaimed titles instead, I think these are reasons to see the film, reasons that A Serious Man might be one of their best. It’s the film that most mirrors what their own lives may have been like, which is fascinating in and of itself. But it also seems like a film they’ve always wanted to create and show the world, and perhaps winning the Best Picture Oscar finally afforded them the creative freedom to do it.

            As I said, I really wanted to write about this film because even though I am not Jewish and do not identify with really any religious customs, I understand reaching crisis mode. As I approach forty next month and have recently gone through a break-up of my own, I’ve done a lot of reflecting recently myself. I do know what it feels like to question whether the universe is testing you or punishing you and the Coens’ have eloquently written this feeling into the character of Larry Gopnik. Larry is just an average guy, trying to be “a serious man” while the world continuously shits on him. Yet he takes it all in stride because of his faith. A Serious Man is also a story about when those limits are tested and where the breaking point is in each person. One doesn’t have to be religious to identify with that.

-         Jonathan Eagle