International Dateline
Looking back on a year, inevitably, brings on the “best of” list. You know–the top 10, 20, 50 (!), songs or albums that rocked one’s world or iPod in the space of 12 months.
When I look back on 2007 and my year of pop, I can’t help but think of how much it’s been shaped by my travels and my desire to see new places and hear what folks outside the US are listening to–that is when they’re not listening to generic R&B, hip hop crunk from the States.
I went to three foreign countries last year (Canada, Iceland, Argentina) and discovered a new pop sensation in each, which gives hope that someone, somewhere, is not listening to bloody Timbaland.
Bubbling up from the volcanic rock in Iceland, comedian, turned mad fictional TV-talk show host, and failed Eurovision contestant Silvia Night released her first LP Goldmine, which successfully imitates/mocks the American pop-tart starlet archetype, completely and thoroughly, including an ace cover of Madonna’s “Material Girl”. The LP’s finest moment is its first and only single, the breathy, innocuously catchy and bottom-heavy “Thank You Baby.” The video–the year’s finest from any country, in my opinion– sends up Spanish telenovelas so deliciously that it kind of makes you sad for the state of television satire at the moment. If records were sold on personality, Silvia Night would be triple platinum.
A hemisphere away in Argentina, electropop outfit Miranda!–in shorthand–are pretty much the South American Scissor Sisters, but without the New York gay hipster baggage. I fell in love with the Giorgio Moroder-influenced “Prisonero” the first time I saw the video for it on Argentine television. The song, the first single from the band’s excellent “El Disco De Tu Corazon” LP, loops, gurgles and coos before bursting into a monstrously addictive chorus. The clip is not so exceptional, but lead singer Juliana looks marvy on her roller skates. If a macho country like Argentina can put this into their top 10, why can’t we?
Finally, from our great Neighbor to the North comes, no, not Celine,–who I secretly still love, sort of–but Francophonic punk-rock outfit Les Breastfeeders. In truth, I must thank a very special someone for picking up their CD on our last trip to Quebec. There was no greater performance moment for me in 2007 then accidentally happening upon this 5-piece rabidly tearing the shit up in a hole in the wall bar in 20-degree below Quebec City amongst the spirited activities of Winter Carnaval. Resident band wacko/star/badass Johnny Malador literally banged his tambourine on his naked fur-vested chest until he bled. This video performance of “Chanson Pour Destinee”–taken from their amazing Les Matins De Grand Soirs is the closest thing to being there.
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