Showing posts with label Britpop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Britpop. Show all posts

Saturday, December 27, 2014

"Musical Schizophrenic"- A conversation with London indie pop artist Oscar


















Oscar Scheller's a self-described "musical schizophrenic." If the London native's not recording bright, love-struck indie pop under the mononym Oscar, he's staying up in his flat until 5 in the morning recording "crusty acid house" with his friend Guy as Claude Money or dabbling in shifting garage music. He's a classically trained art school grad who wrote a dissertation on "The Emotional Economy of the Sampled Sound" and enjoys the head knocking NYC-rap of Lord Finesse, the careful R&B structuring of Destiny's Child, Ride's intimate shoegaze and infinitely fun baroque pop courtesy of the Kinks' Village Green Preservation Society. Scheller will go nearly a month without working and then have a deluge where he writes multiple songs in a weekend. 


When's he wrapped on one of those new tracks, he'll play it for his mom Rebecca, who he inherited part of his musical "disorder" from. Rebecca would make mixes of current U.K. pop hits for Oscar when he rode to school as a child, and splice in New Order, Blondie and the Slits, because she was "a bit of a punk." And if that weren't enough, Oscar's father Martin was a "Bohemian with a joint in his mouth," who made some of the earliest acid house as Funtopia for Arista. The deal never quite materialized, but Oscar still has stacks of the records from Martin's broke artist days. Music is permanently hardwired into Oscar's DNA and you can hear it in his baritone voice.


Who's at the top of the list of bands you'd like to see?
Modern bands...I wanna see Slowdive, I know they’re an old band, but I wanna see them. They would be top of my list, 100%. 


So you're a shoegaze guy then, have you seen My Bloody Valentine?
I’ve seen My Bloody Valentine, which was, I thought it was pretty amazing. It was so loud that people were kind of throwing up afterwards. It was intense. After a while all the feedback and frequencies made this incredible singing noise. It was beautiful, but deafening.

When did you start listening to bands like that?
I was quite late with guitar music. When I was a teenager, I was into R&B and hip hop. My sister was into drum & bass and U.K. garage and all that kind of stuff, so I kind of took CDs from her room and was involved with that, but I think when I first started listening to shoegaze I was about 17 or 18.
 

What about it appealed to you?
I suppose like the delicacy of it and the intimacy as well.

Shoegaze isn't unlike R&B in that way.
Oh God yeah. Some of the best R&B is really minimal.


I can hear shoegaze and hip hop elements in a song like "Be Good" but how does R&B fit in?
With the R&B the influence of that is vocally, there are lots of indie singers that could have these crossover soulful voices because they actually sing it's not yelping into a microphone. Julian Casablancas for instance has a great voice. I guess Morrissey as well has got a good voice.

Morrissey is a comparison that comes up a lot for you in the press, why do you think that is?
I don’t think we sound anything a like. I think the reason that people say that is because I sing with my own accent. And as soon as you’re an English band that doesn’t sing in an American accent, you are someone else.

And they seem to suggest you're also gloomy? I just find it funny because I’m really not a miserable person, I’m really silly.

Where does a mistake like that come from?
I think people can’t really work out what it is. I think because my voice is so low, people assume I’m kind of deadpan. And I try to sing higher, but I write songs for where my voice is.

But the whole sad thing is kind of a character and even when I do try to write happy songs, they do come out a bit bittersweet.




When did you first start writing?
I was 13 or 14 and started writing on the piano and it was straight up pop ballad kinds of things. I was listening to a lot of Alicia Keys. It was cheesy and really teenage. 


And then I picked up the guitar when I was 15. My friend showed me a few chords and my mom showed me a few chords too, she could play Buddy Holly.
I was in lots of bands that weren’t mine where I was asked to be the singer. Like from the age of 15 I was in bands and learning how to do that.

Was there any frustration with playing in a band versus solo because there was more to worry about? I think when you’re young, it was a lot easier because we all went to the same school, we all finished school at 4 o’clock, and none of us had girlfriends or real lives, so it was like 'yeah lets go practice and do that gig.' So in a way it was kind of easy, but it didn’t feel like that at the time.

And I started to realize that I really knew what I wanted and I had to sing other people’s lyrics which frankly I didn’t like and it wasn’t the best.

So was performing the plan then or did you want to go to school?
I did the whole art school route; I thought it was the promised land. You read about art school and you read about punk and all the great bands that went there and you think 'God that must be such an exciting place, you can dress how you want and you can just express yourself and do what you want.'

Of course that wasn’t the reality. Capitalism has kind of taken such a stranglehold on any kind of individual education system. It’s no longer a school of art, it’s actually a university which the semantics of are completely different. It's incredibly prescriptive and academic and in a way you can’t really call it art school anymore.

I definitely had a hard time there and that was definitely when I started doing the Oscar stuff. I was so pissed off with art school; I was just spending all my time at home writing and coming in occasionally and showing some work and sort of bullsh***ing.

Was the early music you were doing as Oscar for school at all or just an escape from all the bulls***? It was to get away from all the bulls***... I was kind of going through this conflict with everybody around me saying 'why the f*** can’t I come in and play my album or play my songs?' Because it’s as much art as whatever the painting is or whatever the installation is. So it was definitely the kind of escape from that.


How much of that was a conscious decision?

I was tired of straight indie music going to see boys with guitars. The whole thing was boring and tired. It was all either super electronic or complete rip offs. I wanted to exaggerate the fact that I’m an avid record collector. In a way the art school was helpful in that it makes you quite cynical and does strengthen all your references and makes you look at things in or out of context.

The music came about because I wanted to write pop songs, but I’m real, I’m in a bedroom. I’m not a manufactured artist, so I just kind of did it the way I knew best. I played around with lots of old school drum loops because I didn’t have a drumkit and couldn’t make a noise in my bedroom because I live in a flat. So it was the easiest way to do it. All late at night; just drum loops and singing really quietly into a microphone.

Lo-fi approach intentional or because you don’t have the equipment for it?
It’s not intentional. I think if I had a proper drumkit and I knew how to record it and I had studio time, of course I would love to have the songs fully realized. And in a way the songwriting has been improving. Now the songs I’m writing are kind of like album tracks and they do need a kind of high-fidelity.


I think the next thing is to release a new single or EP. Just keep building it.



Oscar's debut EP 146b is out now on Smalltown Supersound imprint Brown Rice.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

"Be Good"- Oscar

























In a soon to be published interview I did with London indie pop artist Oscar, the subject of 90s NY rap came up in conversation. To be honest the discussion took me aback because I couldn't see how 90s NY rap fit into his tranquil pop approach. It was a scene with a prominent group that once threatened "Hit you in the face so hard that your nose bone goes into your brain," which is light years away from "I was talking to you last night and I thought that you were quite nice." Rap's "Mecca" was a cold, desolate place then while Oscar's work now, even at its weariest, is still inviting. 

His latest effort "Be Good" manages to work in the muscular drums of 90s NY rap and not frighten anyone. If DJ Premier had smoked a bit of weed before recording the drums for "Kick in the Door" he might've come up with what Oscar has here. After a "Funky Drummer" style intro, they settle into a lazy hopscotch rhythm that wonderfully matches Oscar's deep quivering voice. He's not being pressed and can unspool lines like "whatever it is that you want to say to me, well say it to my face, today," on his own time. Such a leisurely pace allows him to think more, to open up and be honest. "I want you to be good to me, if you could, we could be so sweet," he croons over the chorus' jangly background guitar and blooping keys. It's one of the boldest declarations the burgeoning artist has made yet. One that might not have happened if the confidence of 90s NY rap didn’t creep into his world.



Oscar's debut EP 146b is now out on Smalltown Supersound imprint Brown Rice.

Friday, July 18, 2014

"Kitchen Song"- Oscar

























On Oscar's "Open Up," the singularly named indie pop artist was quivering about being "stuck." Though the song itself was warm and glinting, the London-native was in a darkly lit bedroom wondering "what's the use?" The concept of romance itself seemed miles away, even if he managed to push the bed sheets aside and chase it all day he might not find it.

Euphoric new single, "Kitchen Song," still finds Oscar chasing romance but sounding far less defeatist about it. Over the cordial hum of a surf rock guitar he sets the scene, "I was talking to you last night and I thought that you were quite nice." Anyone who has ever struck up a meaningful conversation with a stranger in public has had the same joy that trickles out of Oscar's voice. We want to believe that if we overcome our fear of public speaking, we'll be able to form a genuine connection with someone. Oscar's imbued with that belief, so much so in the chorus he sings "I know I will find you, maybe now or one day soon," with a conviction matching "Kitchen Song"'s steadily clopping drums. He just needs to stop pacing around a crowded mini-kitchen and go out into the world. The knowledge is there, all that's needed is action.



Oscar's debut EP 146b is now out on Smalltown Supersound imprint Brown Rice. The AllFreshSounds blog will be covering the annual Pitchfork Music Festival all weekend in Chicago, so look for concert reviews and photos on the blog and Twitter account throughout the weekend.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Track Attack- "The Scientist" (Coldplay, 2002)
























"Isn't it a pity
Now, isn't it a shame
How we break each other's hearts
And cause each other pain
How we take each other's love
Without thinking anymore
Forgetting to give back
Isn't it a pity."
Those gorgeously simplistic, sobering words were sung by ex-Beatle George Harrison for 1970's "Isn't It A Pity (Version One)". Whispered underneath funereal orchestration, the words themselves ring loud and clear. No matter how hard we try, no matter what we do, we're bound to break someone's heart. It's a certainty as great as the Sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Often times we do it without even realizing it. And the reason is simple: we're imperfect and imperfection breeds pain.

With this pain and the Harrison classic on his mind, Coldplay's Chris Martin sat down in 2001 to fill in the missing piece of upcoming sophomore LP A Rush of Blood to the Head. Martin's admitted  "The Scientist" was born out of an inability to work on Harrison's tune and the moment the song’s four-chord piano melody rings out; you're hearing a half-remembered cover. Granted, the cover in question is one performed with supreme confidence. Where the piano is one of many instruments squeezed into "Isn't It A Pity"'s group-portrait, it stands alone for the first verse of "The Scientist". It's all a weary Martin can prop himself up on.

"Weary" is really the only way to describe Martin's falsetto here. While it would be lambasted in subsequent years, in 2002 it was relatively new and mysterious. So beguilingly powerful it was, Rolling Stone writer Rob Sheffield was moved to say the finale (which relies heavily on falsetto) "could raise every hair on the back of your neck." Like the piano notes, each phrase is allowed equal time to writhe around before being shooed away. That said, certain lyrics are clearly given emotional precedence in A Rush of Blood to the Head's second single. Martin's on record as saying "That's just about girls. It's weird that whatever else is on your mind, whether it's the downfall of global economics or terrible environmental troubles, the thing that always gets you most is when you fancy someone." Despite whatever sappiness drips out of that sentiment, its truth speaks as loud as Martin's heart in the song. There have been times when in the throes of love, the first (and last thing) I think of on a given day is a particular person. After a certain point, days begin to feel cyclical because their bookends are the same. Everything blurs together into a haze of passion and dejection.

Throughout the slow-builder, Martin is desperate to "go back to the start," to a time when the only emotion was unbridled happiness. As Jonny Buckland's shiftless acoustic guitar starts up and Will Champion's drums gently enter, Martin's begging to be haunted again. He can't keep from looking back to when things were significantly less difficult. For Martin, the romance has ended but he's still replaying individual scenes in his mind. Late nights spent sharing secrets are remembered long after the film ran out. Whether or not those memories can materialize again is unknown. If they do, it won't be easy.