The Art of Translating Hamilton into German: “So Kribbeln Schmetterlinge, Wenn Sie Starten”

The city of Hamburg’s nick­name is Tor zur Welt- the gate­way to the world.

If the Ger­man lan­guage pro­duc­tion of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s record break­ing hiphop musi­cal now in pre­views in that city’s St. Pauli The­ater is as warm­ly received as the Eng­lish orig­i­nal has been in Lon­don, Mel­bourne, and, of course, the US, it may earn itself with an addi­tion­al one — Hamil­ton­burg.

Excite­ment has been build­ing since ear­ly sum­mer, when a dual lan­guage video mashup of the open­ing num­ber placed the orig­i­nal Broad­way cast along­side their Ger­man lan­guage coun­ter­parts.

One need not speak Ger­man to appre­ci­ate the sim­i­lar­i­ties in atti­tude — in both per­for­mance, and inter­nal asso­nances, a lyri­cal aspect of hip hop that Miran­da was intent on pre­serv­ing.

Trans­la­tor Kevin Schroed­er quipped that he and co-trans­la­tor rap­per Sera Finale embraced the mot­to “as free as nec­es­sary, as close as pos­si­ble” in approach­ing the score, which at 46 num­bers and over 20,000 words, more than dou­bles the word count of any oth­er musi­cal:

At least we had all these syl­la­bles. It gave us room to play around.

Good thing, as the Ger­man lan­guage abounds with mul­ti­syl­lab­ic com­pound nouns, many of which have no direct Eng­lish equiv­a­lent.

Take schaden­freude which the cre­ators of the musi­cal Avenue Q summed up as “hap­pi­ness at the mis­for­tune of oth­ers.”

Or torschlusspanik — the sense of urgency to achieve or do some­thing before it’s too late.

Might that one speak to a trans­lat­ing team who’ve devot­ed close to four years of their lives to get­ting every­thing — words, syl­la­bles, meter, sound, flow, posi­tion, musi­cal­i­ty, mean­ing, and dou­ble mean­ings — right?

Before Schroed­er and Finale were entrust­ed with this her­culean task, they had to pass muster with Miranda’s wife’s Aus­tri­an cousin, who lis­tened to their sam­ples and pro­nounced them in keep­ing with the spir­it of the orig­i­nal.

As trans­la­tors have always done, Schroed­er and Finale had to take their audi­ence into account, swap­ping out ref­er­ences, metaphors and turns of phrase that could stump Ger­man the­ater­go­ers for ones with proven region­al res­o­nance.

In a round up demon­strat­ing the Ger­man team’s dex­ter­i­ty, the New York Times Michael Paul­son points to “Sat­is­fied,” a song where­in Hamilton’s prospec­tive sis­ter-in-law recalls their first encounter:

ORIGINAL

So this is what it feels like to match wits

With some­one at your lev­el! What the hell is the catch?

It’s the feel­ing of free­dom, of see­ing the light

It’s Ben Franklin with a key and a kite

You see it right?

 

GERMAN

So kribbeln Schmetter­linge, wenn sie starten

Wir bei­de voll auf einem Lev­el, offene Karten!

Das Herz in den Wolken, ich flieg’ aus der Bahn

Die Füße kom­men an den Boden nich’ ran

Mein lieber Schwan!

 

ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF GERMAN

So that’s how but­ter­flies tin­gle when they take off

We’re on the same lev­el, all cards on the table!

My heart in the clouds, I’m thrown off track

My feet don’t touch the floor

My dear swan!

Miran­da, who par­tic­i­pat­ed in shap­ing the Ger­man trans­la­tion using a 3 col­umn sys­tem remark­ably sim­i­lar to the com­pare and con­trast con­tent above, gives this change a glow­ing review:

That sec­tion sounds fan­tas­tic, and gives the same feel­ing of falling in love for the first time. The metaphor may be dif­fer­ent, but it keeps its propul­sive­ness.

And while few Ger­man the­ater­go­ers can be expect­ed to be con­ver­sant in Rev­o­lu­tion­ary War era Amer­i­can his­to­ry, Ger­many’s size­able immi­grant pop­u­la­tion ensures that cer­tain of the musical’s themes will retain their cul­tur­al rel­e­vance.

The Ham­burg pro­duc­tion fea­tures play­ers from Liberia and Brazil. Oth­er cast mem­bers were born in Ger­many to par­ents hail­ing from Ghana, the Philip­pines, Aru­ba, Benin, Suriname…and the Unit­ed States.

For more of Michael Paulson’s insights into the chal­lenges of trans­lat­ing Hamil­ton, click here.

Hamil­ton is in pre­views at Hamburg’s St. Pauli The­ater, with open­ing night sched­uled for Octo­ber 6.

- Ayun Hal­l­i­day is the Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine and author, most recent­ly, of Cre­ative, Not Famous: The Small Pota­to Man­i­festo. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The Evolution of the Electric Guitar: An Introduction to Every Major Variety of the Instrument That Made Rock-and-Roll

The past cen­tu­ry has seen many styl­is­tic changes in pop­u­lar cul­ture, none more dra­mat­ic than in music. We need only hear a few mea­sures of a song to place it in the right decade. The sound of an era’s music reflects the state of its tech­nol­o­gy: when­ev­er engi­neer­ing can make pos­si­ble tools like mul­ti­track recorders, tape loops, sam­plers, and syn­the­siz­ers — to say noth­ing of lis­ten­ing media like cylin­ders, vinyl records, and online stream­ing — the sound­track of the zeit­geist has been trans­formed. But in liv­ing mem­o­ry, sure­ly no devel­op­ment has made quite so pow­er­ful an impact on pop­u­lar music as the elec­tric gui­tar.

“Almost all gui­tars cur­rent­ly on the mar­ket are either a direct descen­dant of, or very sim­i­lar to, a hand­ful of instru­ments that came to life dur­ing the span of one decade: the fifties.” With these words, Dutch Youtu­ber Paul Davids launch­es into a video jour­ney through the evo­lu­tion of the elec­tric gui­tar as we know it, begin­ning in 1950 with the Fend­er Tele­cast­er.

Davids does­n’t just explain the com­po­nents and con­struc­tion of that ven­er­a­ble instru­ment, he plays it — just as he does a vari­ety of oth­er elec­tric gui­tars, each with a sound rep­re­sen­ta­tive of its era. Even if you don’t know them by name, they’ll all sound famil­iar from a vari­ety of musi­cal con­texts.

The inven­tion of the elec­tric gui­tar made pos­si­ble the birth of rock and roll, which shows no few signs of frailty even here in the twen­ty-first cen­tu­ry. The ear­li­est mod­els pro­duced are ever more high­ly val­ued for their sound, their feel, and their appar­ent sim­plic­i­ty, a qual­i­ty many rock­ers hold in the utmost regard. But despite long adher­ing to the same basic form, the elec­tric gui­tar has incor­po­rat­ed a great vari­ety of inno­va­tions — in its pick­ups, its vibra­to sys­tems, and much else besides — whose com­bi­na­tions and per­mu­ta­tions have giv­en rise to entire sub­gen­res like surf, heavy met­al, rock­a­bil­ly, and grunge. Like rock itself, the elec­tric gui­tar arrived hav­ing already attained a kind of per­fec­tion, but pos­sessed too much vital­i­ty to stand still.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Behold the First Elec­tric Gui­tar: The 1931 “Fry­ing Pan”

The World’s First Bass Gui­tar (1936)

The Sto­ry of the Gui­tar: The Com­plete Three-Part Doc­u­men­tary

Oxford Sci­en­tist Explains the Physics of Play­ing Elec­tric Gui­tar Solos

All of the Dif­fer­ent Kinds of Acoustic Gui­tars, and the Dif­fer­ent Woods They’re Made Of: The Ulti­mate Acoustic Gui­tar Guide

Learn to Play Gui­tar for Free: Intro Cours­es Take You From The Very Basics to Play­ing Songs In No Time

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

Watch Opera Legend Marian Anderson’s Historic Performance on the Steps of the Lincoln Memorial (1939)

Near­ly every Civ­il Rights icon becomes more of a sym­bol than a com­plex human being over time, a con­se­quence of iconog­ra­phy in gen­er­al. This has cer­tain­ly been the case with opera singer Mar­i­an Ander­son. “If Amer­i­cans know one fact about the leg­endary African-Amer­i­can con­tral­to Mar­i­an Ander­son,” Kira Thur­man writes at The New York­er, “it’s that she sang in defi­ance on the steps of the Lin­coln Memo­r­i­al, in 1939.”

We prob­a­bly also know that Ander­son took to the steps of the mon­u­ment again in 1963 to sing “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” before Mar­tin Luther King, Jr.‘s “I Have a Dream Speech” at the March on Wash­ing­ton. In her offi­cial por­trait at the Nation­al Por­trait Gallery, she stands regal­ly before the Lin­coln Memo­ri­al’s columns in her fur coat, gaz­ing res­olute­ly into the mid­dle dis­tance, her hair gray with age and wis­dom. It’s the defin­ing image of an artist whose defi­ance has come to over­shad­ow her art.

The image is an undoubt­ed­ly pow­er­ful one, a key moment in the seem­ing­ly unend­ing strug­gle for jus­tice in the Unit­ed States, as well as “one of the most impor­tant musi­cal events of the 20th cen­tu­ry,” Anas­ta­sia Tsioul­cas writes at NPR. Ander­son “had nev­er faced such an enor­mous crowd” — 75,000 peo­ple of all races and back­grounds. “She was ter­ri­fied,” and lat­er wrote, “I could not run away from this sit­u­a­tion. If I had any­thing to offer, I would have to do so now.” She may have con­fessed to stage fright that day, but some char­ac­ter­i­za­tions do not do jus­tice to her pro­fes­sion­al­ism. Ander­son did not fear crowds or big­otry.

When she sang at the Lin­coln Memo­r­i­al, Ander­son was 42 years old and very much an inter­na­tion­al star. Four years ear­li­er, she had returned from Europe “as one of the most revered peo­ple on the plan­et” and per­formed at the White House for Eleanor Roo­sevelt. It was Roo­sevelt who arranged the 1939 Lin­coln Memo­r­i­al con­cert — after resign­ing from the Daugh­ters of the Amer­i­can Rev­o­lu­tion when the all-white group refused to rent the 4,000-seat Con­sti­tu­tion Hall to Howard Uni­ver­si­ty for their annu­al con­cert event for Ander­son.

Roo­sevelt had and would con­tin­ue to inter­vene in many such instances of racism, using her pow­er for demo­c­ra­t­ic good. Ander­son, while not an activist, was not new to musi­cal protest. In 1935, her appli­ca­tion to sing at the Salzburg Fes­ti­val in Aus­tria had been sim­i­lar­ly reject­ed, on the heels of a Nazi riot over Black bari­tone Aubrey Pankey’s per­for­mance in the city ear­li­er that year. “What Ander­son did next illus­trates a pat­tern of behav­ior that she would deploy as a weapon through­out her career,” Thur­man writes. “She showed up any­way.”

Ander­son held a small con­cert for a few devot­ed lis­ten­ers at Mozar­teum con­cert hall, then a few days lat­er in a hotel ball­room for “hun­dreds of elite musi­cians, who applaud­ed her act of defi­ance,” and shared in it them­selves. After this con­cert, famed con­duc­tor Arturo Toscani­ni met her back­stage and said, “What I heard today one is priv­i­leged to hear only once in a hun­dred years.” Ander­son, “became an inter­na­tion­al super­star overnight.” She built a rep­u­ta­tion through bold acts of defi­ance, but her great­est con­tri­bu­tions were always to music.

The “dig­ni­fied, sto­ic, mid­dle-aged Black woman” who appeared at the Lin­coln Memo­r­i­al was young once, writes Thur­man, and as much a sen­sa­tion in Europe as Josephine Bak­er. She’s been char­ac­ter­ized as “mod­est” and self-effac­ing, but she was also ambi­tious, an incred­i­bly tal­ent­ed child prodi­gy who knew she would find too many doors closed in the U.S. Like many Black artists of the ear­ly 20th cen­tu­ry, she became a con­fi­dent, cel­e­brat­ed ex-pat: “Walk­ing down Salzburg’s hilly cob­ble­stone streets dur­ing her first day in the Alpine city, in the sum­mer of 1925, Ander­son was trailed by a cadre of jour­nal­ists every­where she went.”

Ten years lat­er, Ander­son would find things very much changed in Europe, and find her­self feel­ing as alien­at­ed in for­mer­ly wel­com­ing Aus­tria as she had in her home coun­try. (She was mourned by her Aus­tri­an fans. One crit­ic wrote of her last per­for­mance, “[her] music makes those peo­ple hap­py who have not yet giv­en up their belief that all men are equal.”) By 1939, Ander­son was a vet­er­an not only of opera and music hall stages around the world, but of fac­ing up to racism and dis­crim­i­na­tion.

“A qui­et, hum­ble per­son,” writes NPR’s Susan Stam­berg, “Ander­son often used ‘we’ when speak­ing about her­self,” refer­ring to the “many peo­ple whom we will nev­er know,” she once said, but who make our lives pos­si­ble. In the first song she sang at the Lin­coln Memo­r­i­al, “My Coun­try, ‘Tis of Thee,” she changed the words of the third line from “of thee I sing” to “to thee we sing,” a move that “can be heard as an embrace, imply­ing com­mu­ni­ty and group respon­si­bil­i­ty.” It could also imply Ander­son­’s con­scious­ness of her­self and her com­mu­ni­ty as mar­gin­al­ized out­siders in the coun­try of their birth, or her sense of her­self as address­ing an inte­grat­ed nation in that chilly, Novem­ber out­door crowd.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Brook­lyn Acad­e­my of Music Puts Online 70,000 Objects Doc­u­ment­ing the His­to­ry of the Per­form­ing Arts: Down­load Play­bills, Posters & More

Hear the High­est Note Sung in the 137-Year His­to­ry of the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Opera

Hear Singers from the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Opera Record Their Voic­es on Tra­di­tion­al Wax Cylin­ders

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Listen to Music Playlists to Help You Study Like Nietzsche, Socrates, Kant & Other Great Thinkers

The great thinkers of the past knew noth­ing of Youtube — which, we might be tempt­ed to say today, enabled them to become great thinkers in the first place. This is, of course, unchar­i­ta­ble: sure­ly the rise of stream­ing media counts among the most impor­tant devel­op­ments in the his­to­ry of edu­ca­tion. Many col­lege stu­dents today may gen­uine­ly won­der how pre­vi­ous gen­er­a­tions got by with­out Youtube’s back­ground-music mix­es engi­neered, as the New York­er’s Aman­da Petru­sich wrote not long ago, “to facil­i­tate and sus­tain a mood, which in turn might enable a task: study­ing, fold­ing laun­dry, mak­ing spread­sheets, idly brows­ing the Inter­net.”

If Youtube had been avail­able to impor­tant minds of pre­vi­ous cen­turies — indeed, pre­vi­ous mil­len­nia — what sort of study­ing music would it have served to them? This is, in some sense, a philo­soph­i­cal ques­tion, and a phi­los­o­phy chan­nel has been pro­vid­ing answes: a host of answers, in fact, each in the form of a themed Youtube mix.

On Filosofia Acadêmi­ca you’ll find a playlist to study like “a sev­en­teenth-cen­tu­ry philoso­pher” (Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Tar­ti­ni), like “a medieval philoso­pher hav­ing the truth revealed by divine grace” (Gre­go­ri­an chants), and like “Socrates after dis­cov­er­ing from the Ora­cle of Del­phi that he is the wis­est” (lots of harp and boat sounds).

Uploaded over the past year, these playlists have proven to be the biggest hits on Filosofia Acadêmi­ca (a Brazil­ian chan­nel also offer­ing inter­views like “Filosofia da Matemáti­ca com Oswal­do Chateaubriand” and “Filosofia da Religião com Domin­gos Faria,”). Its cre­ator Elan Mar­in­ho has also put effort into craft­ing music mix­es after par­tic­u­lar thinkers in such notable moments as “New­ton stick­ing nee­dles in his eyes to test hypothe­ses about light,” “Tur­ing invent­ing the com­put­er” and “Niet­zsche over the abyss in a tightrope between the ani­mal and the über­men­sch” (open­ing, nat­u­ral­ly, with “Ride of the Valkyries”). Many of these selec­tions dis­pense with peri­od accu­ra­cy, depart­ing wild­ly from the sub­jec­t’s time and place. But then, has­n’t imag­i­na­tive license has always been a key com­po­nent of great thought?

Relat­ed con­tent:

Stream 58 Hours of Free Clas­si­cal Music Select­ed to Help You Study, Work, or Sim­ply Relax

Hear Friedrich Nietzsche’s Clas­si­cal Piano Com­po­si­tions: They’re Apho­ris­tic Like His Phi­los­o­phy

Hear a 19-Hour Playlist of Lud­wig Wittgenstein’s Favorite Music: Schu­bert, Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, and… Yvette Guil­bert

An Ancient Philo­soph­i­cal Song Recon­struct­ed and Played for the First Time in 1,000 Years

Hear What It Sounds Like When Philoso­pher Daniel Dennett’s Brain Activ­i­ty Gets Turned into Music

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

All of the Different Kinds of Acoustic Guitars, and the Different Woods They’re Made Of: The Ultimate Acoustic Guitar Guide

If you’re just start­ing out on acoustic gui­tar, buy­ing your first instru­ment might seem sim­ple enough…. Head to your local music shop (or ecom­merce retail­er), thrust out your hand, and say some­thing like, “Give me a begin­ner gui­tar now!” Pay your mon­ey, take your lessons, Bob’s your uncle, right?

Ah, but say you encounter one of those things known as a gui­tar sales­per­son? And say that per­son has some ques­tions… “Ok, we’ve got tra­di­tion­al-style dread­noughts with cut­aways or no cut­aways. We’ve got con­cert sized gui­tars, par­lor gui­tars, clas­si­cal, all sorts!” And you, for­mer­ly con­fi­dent shop­per, now find your­self at sea. What’s the dif­fer­ence?

They’re already on to talk­ing about dif­fer­ent mate­ri­als used in mak­ing gui­tars and you check out. You imag­ine a pur­suit where you know what you’re doing: I could learn har­mon­i­ca…. How many kinds of those are there?

Fear not, begin­ner, YouTube gui­tar edu­ca­tor Paul Davids is here to teach us the types of acoustic gui­tars we’re like­ly to encounter in the wild, as well as the dif­fer­ent kinds of “tone woods” and why they make a dif­fer­ence.

Tone wood sim­ply means the kinds of trees used to make the gui­tar – maple, mahogany, rose­wood, spruce, etc. – and it’s called “tone wood” instead of just “wood” for a rea­son. Among mak­ers and play­ers of elec­tric gui­tars, a nev­er-end­ing argu­ment per­sists about how much tone wood mat­ters. There should be lit­tle debate when it comes to acoustic gui­tars.

The sound of an acoustic gui­tar comes from the pick, or the fin­gers, and from the neck, where the strings’ con­tact with the fret­board trav­els down to the res­onat­ing cham­ber of the body and gets sent out into the world. At each of these con­tact points, the prop­er­ties of the wood in ques­tion nat­u­ral­ly con­di­tion the shape of the sound waves.

Enlist­ing the help of East­wood Gui­tars Pepi­jn ‘t Hart above, who donat­ed the gui­tars in the first video for demon­stra­tion pur­pos­es, Davids demon­strates beyond ques­tion that dif­fer­ent woods used to con­struct the back, sides, and top of an acoustic gui­tar have a tremen­dous effect on the tone.

From brighter to dark­er, tre­bli­er to bassier, or what­ev­er you want to call the range of tones, you’ll hear them in these exam­ples of dif­fer­ent mate­ri­als used to make the same sized gui­tars. Why is this impor­tant? As Hart explains, an acoustic gui­tar is basi­cal­ly its own ampli­fi­er. While you can adjust the tone some­what with tech­nique, the first thing you need to do as an acoustic gui­tar play­er is deter­mine the best type of instru­ment you’ll need for the kind of music you’re play­ing.

Gui­tarists may also need to con­sid­er (even­tu­al­ly), the kinds of musi­cians they’re play­ing with. A heavy rock ensem­ble with rum­bling bass and drums will require a much brighter gui­tar to cut through the mix, where­as accom­pa­ny­ing a ban­jo play­er or vio­lin­ist will call for more low end.

You can still grab the first begin­ner acoustic gui­tar you find online and call it a day. But if you’re seri­ous about learn­ing the instru­ment – and learn­ing to play in a musi­cal tra­di­tion, be it folk, blues, coun­try, clas­si­cal, rock, or what­ev­er – you’ll need this essen­tial infor­ma­tion. Davids and Hart make it fun and easy to acquire in the two-part edu­ca­tion­al series above.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

How to Build a Cus­tom Hand­craft­ed Acoustic Gui­tar from Start to Fin­ish: The Process Revealed in a Fas­ci­nat­ing Doc­u­men­tary

Musi­cian Plays the Last Stradi­var­ius Gui­tar in the World, the “Sabionari” Made in 1679

What Does a $275,000 Clas­si­cal Gui­tar Sound Like?

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Taylor Hawkins Tribute Concert Streaming Live from Wembley Stadium: Watch It Online

The Foo Fight­ers have teamed up with Tay­lor Hawkins’ fam­i­ly to stream world­wide their all-star cel­e­bra­tion of the leg­endary drum­mer. Above you can stream the Tay­lor Hawkins Trib­ute Con­cert tak­ing place in Wem­b­ley Sta­di­um.  Note: if you missed the begin­ning, you can scroll the video back to the very start.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Watch the Foo Fight­ers’ Tay­lor Hawkins (RIP) Give a Drum­ming Mas­ter­class

1,000 Musi­cians Per­form “My Hero” in a Mov­ing Trib­ute to Foo Fight­ers’ Drum­mer Tay­lor Hawkins

Watch 1,000 Musi­cians Play the Foo Fight­ers’ “Learn to Fly,” Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spir­it,” Queen’s “We Will Rock You,” Bowie’s “Rebel Rebel,” and The Who’s “Won’t Get Fooled Again”

Dave Grohl Falls Off­stage & Breaks His Leg, Then Con­tin­ues the Show as The Foo Fight­ers Play Queen’s “Under Pres­sure” (2015)

What Happens When Artificial Intelligence Creates Images to Match the Lyrics of Iconic Songs: David Bowie’s “Starman,” Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven”, ELO’s “Mr. Blue Sky” & More

Lyri­cists must write con­crete­ly enough to be evoca­tive, yet vague­ly enough to allow each lis­ten­er his per­son­al inter­pre­ta­tion. The nine­teen-six­ties and sev­en­ties saw an espe­cial­ly rich bal­ance struck between res­o­nant ambi­gu­i­ty and mas­sive pop­u­lar­i­ty — aid­ed, as many involved par­ties have admit­ted, by the use of cer­tain psy­choac­tive sub­stances. Half a cen­tu­ry lat­er, the visions induced by those same sub­stances offer the clos­est com­par­i­son to the strik­ing fruits of visu­al arti­fi­cial-intel­li­gence projects like Google’s Deep Dream a few years ago or DALL‑E today. Only nat­ur­al, per­haps, that these advanced appli­ca­tions would soon­er or lat­er be fed psy­che­del­ic song lyrics.

The video at the top of the post presents the Elec­tric Light Orches­tra’s 1977 hit “Mr. Blue Sky” illus­trat­ed by images gen­er­at­ed by arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence straight from its words. This came as a much-antic­i­pat­ed endeav­or for Youtube chan­nel SolarProphet, which has also put up sim­i­lar­ly AI-accom­pa­nied pre­sen­ta­tions of such already goofy-image-filled com­e­dy songs as Lemon Demon’s “The Ulti­mate Show­down” and Neil Ciciere­ga’s “It’s Gonna Get Weird.”

Youtu­ber Daara has also cre­at­ed ten entries in this new genre, includ­ing Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now,” The Eagles’ “Hotel Cal­i­for­nia,” and (the recent­ly-fea­tured-on-Open-Cul­ture) Kate Bush’s “Run­ning Up That Hill.”

Jut above appears a video for David Bowie’s “Star­man” with AI-visu­al­ized lyrics, cre­at­ed by Youtu­ber Aidon­t­know. Cre­at­ed isn’t too strong a word, since DALL‑E and oth­er appli­ca­tions cur­rent­ly avail­able to the pub­lic pro­vide a selec­tion of images for each prompt, leav­ing it to human users to pro­vide specifics about the aes­thet­ic — and, in the case of these videos, to select the result that best suits each line. One delight of this par­tic­u­lar pro­duc­tion, apart from the boo­gieing chil­dren, is see­ing how the AI imag­ines var­i­ous star­men wait­ing in the sky, all of whom look sus­pi­cious­ly like ear­ly-sev­en­ties Bowie. Of all his songs of that peri­od, sure­ly “Life on Mars?” would be choice num­ber one for an AI music video — but then, its imagery may well be too bizarre for cur­rent tech­nol­o­gy to han­dle.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Dis­cov­er DALL‑E, the Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Artist That Lets You Cre­ate Sur­re­al Art­work

Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Pro­gram Tries to Write a Bea­t­les Song: Lis­ten to “Daddy’s Car”

What Hap­pens When Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Lis­tens to John Coltrane’s Inter­stel­lar Space & Starts to Cre­ate Its Own Free Jazz

Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Writes a Piece in the Style of Bach: Can You Tell the Dif­fer­ence Between JS Bach and AI Bach?

Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Cre­ates Real­is­tic Pho­tos of Peo­ple, None of Whom Actu­al­ly Exist

Nick Cave Answers the Hot­ly Debat­ed Ques­tion: Will Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Ever Be Able to Write a Great Song?

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

Elton John Presents 14 of His Iconic Looks: From 1968 to Now

Elton John is pack­ing up his fab­u­lous out­fits and hit­ting stages for the last time, mak­ing a grace­ful exit from the road at age 75 with his “Farewell Yel­low Brick Road” tour. He will, of course, make a stop at Dodger Sta­di­um, where he played one of his most famous con­certs in 1975, strid­ing onto the stage in a sequined Dodgers uni­form, one of many shim­mer­ing cos­tumes he would don dur­ing the 3‑hour marathon set.

When John played Dodger sta­di­um, his songs had been “hit­ting the air­waves with a sense of fan­tas­ti­cal futur­ism,” writes Far Out, “all pack­aged in flam­boy­ant cos­tumes and dressed in num­ber one albums. Loved by crit­ics and adored by fans, he resem­bled some­thing entire­ly dif­fer­ent.” Dif­fer­ent from what?

John answered that ques­tion in a 2020 inter­view with Vogue: “I was­n’t glam rock. I was­n’t David Bowie. I was me being a blokey guy wear­ing these clothes. I had to have humor in my cos­tume.” Thus, his turns as Don­ald Duck, Min­nie Mouse, and the Stat­ue of Lib­er­ty, all cos­tumes “designed to com­ple­ment the cor­re­spond­ing per­for­mance,” Janelle Okwodu writes at Vogue.

John may not have thought of him­self as a glam rock super­star, but his lega­cy of sparkling, sequined out­fits, plat­form boots, feath­er boas, and bluesy rock hits says oth­er­wise. In the video above, see the retir­ing Rock­et­man break down his most icon­ic looks. “Let’s begin,” he says, “at the very begin­ning” — decades before design­er Sean Dixon tai­lored 30 bespoke suits (at 90 hours each to make) for John’s 2018 Mil­lion Dol­lar Piano show.

In 1968, John donned bell bot­toms, a three-but­ton jack­et, and a fedo­ra for his first pub­lic­i­ty shot. “That was prob­a­bly all I could afford, and it shows,” he remarks. Not a sin­gle Swarovs­ki crys­tal in sight. In the ear­ly 70s, it was den­im, “and I absolute­ly loathe den­im now.” In 1997, for his 50th birth­day par­ty, John appeared in glo­ri­ous full drag ensem­ble made by Sandy Pow­ell, but in his lat­er years, he’s most­ly dressed down.… which for Elton John means chang­ing into an end­less series of bespoke, bedaz­zled suits.

Now that he’s head­ing into retire­ment from per­form­ing, we may be enti­tled to won­der about his bathrobe col­lec­tion.…

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Elton John Takes Us Through the Cre­ative Process of His Ear­ly Hit “Tiny Dancer” (1970)

Revis­it Six of Elton John’s Most Icon­ic Con­certs, Stream­ing in Their Entire­ty for 72 Hours

Elton John Proves He Can Turn any Text into a Song: Watch Him Impro­vise with Lines from Hen­rik Ibsen’s Play, Peer Gynt

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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