Formed in 1965, the Doors burned hot until Jim MorÂriÂson died in 1971, and the band finalÂly broke up in 1973. The group left behind more than a few fine songs—“Light My Fire,” “Break On Through (To the OthÂer Side),” “L.A. Woman,” and “RoadÂhouse Blues,” to name a few. Above, the music colÂlecÂtive PlayÂing for Change pays tribÂute to anothÂer Doors clasÂsic, “RidÂers on the Storm.” FeaÂturÂing perÂforÂmances by the two surÂvivÂing Doors memÂbers John DensÂmore and RobÂby Krieger, the video also weaves in appearÂances by 20+ musiÂcians, everyÂone from Lukas and MicÂah NelÂson, to Don Was and Foo FightÂers keyÂboardist Rami JafÂfee. AccordÂing to PlayÂing for Change, the “perÂforÂmance reimagÂines the clasÂsic anthem as a medÂiÂtaÂtion on uniÂty, hope, and shared humanÂiÂty,” qualÂiÂties that othÂerÂwise seem in short supÂply today. Enjoy!
If you would like to supÂport the misÂsion of Open CulÂture, conÂsidÂer makÂing a donaÂtion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your conÂtriÂbuÂtions will help us conÂtinÂue proÂvidÂing the best free culÂturÂal and eduÂcaÂtionÂal mateÂriÂals to learnÂers everyÂwhere. You can conÂtribute through PayÂPal, PatreÂon, and VenÂmo (@openculture). Thanks!
Down in Austin, Texas, music teacher Gavin Tabone leads the BarÂton Hills Choir, made up of 3rd- through 6th-grade stuÂdents. Backed by proÂfesÂsionÂal musiÂcians, the choir perÂforms a wide-rangÂing mix of music, from clasÂsic pop and rock to indie songs by artists like Wilco, Muse, The FlamÂing Lips, and espeÂcialÂly the GrateÂful Dead. Above and below, you can find perÂforÂmances of such Dead clasÂsics as “RipÂple,” “Box of Rain” and “Going Down the Road FeelÂing Bad” → “I Know You RidÂer.” And if you head to their YouTube chanÂnel, you can find verÂsions of “CasÂsidy,” “Touch of Grey,” “ScarÂlet BegoÂnias,” “BrokeÂdown Palace,” and more.
With the passÂing of Bob Weir this weekÂend, it seems like a fitÂting time to highÂlight these perÂforÂmances. Weir first joined the Dead when only a teenagÂer, still basiÂcalÂly a kid himÂself, and then conÂtinÂued the jourÂney for the next 60 years, introÂducÂing the DeadÂ’s songÂbook to sucÂcesÂsive genÂerÂaÂtions of fans. In recent years, he talked about the Dead songÂbook endurÂing for the next 200 to 300 years, much as Beethoven remains with us today. As we watch eleÂmenÂtary stuÂdents perÂform GrateÂful Dead clasÂsics, it’s hard not to think that Weir was on to someÂthing.
Though it isn’t the kind of thing one hears disÂcussed every day, seriÂous DisÂney fans do tend to know that Goofy’s origÂiÂnal name was DipÂpy Dawg. But how many of the non-obsesÂsive know that MickÂey’s faithÂful pet PluÂto was first called Rover? (We pass over in digÂniÂfied silence the quaÂsi-philoÂsophÂiÂcal quesÂtion of why the forÂmer dog is humanoid and the latÂter isn’t.) It is Rover, as disÂtinct from PluÂto, who passÂes into the pubÂlic domain this new year, one of a cast of now-libÂerÂatÂed charÂacÂters includÂing Blondie and DagÂwood as well as BetÂty Boop — who, upon makÂing her debut in FleisÂchÂer StuÂdios’ Dizzy DishÂes of 1930, has a someÂwhat canoid appearÂance herÂself. You can see them all in the video above from Duke UniÂverÂsiÂty’s CenÂter for the Study of the PubÂlic Domain, with much more inforÂmaÂtion availÂable in their blog post markÂing this year’s “PubÂlic Domain Day.”
The year 1930, write the CenÂter’s JenÂnifer JenkÂins and James Boyle, was one “of detecÂtives, jazz, speakeasies, and iconÂic charÂacÂters stepÂping onto the culÂturÂal stage — many of whom have been locked behind copyÂright for nearÂly a cenÂtuÂry.”
NovÂels that come availÂable this year include William FaulknÂer’s As I Lay Dying, Dashiell HamÂmetÂt’s The MalÂtese FalÂcon, and Agatha Christie’s The MurÂder at the VicÂarage; among the films are Lewis MileÂstone’s Best PicÂture-winÂning All QuiÂet on the WestÂern Front, VicÂtor HeerÂman’s Marx BrothÂers picÂture AniÂmal CrackÂers, and Luis Buñuel and SalÂvador DalĂ’s L’Âge d’Or. In music, comÂpoÂsiÂtions like “I Got Rhythm” and “EmbraceÂable You” by the GershÂwin BrothÂers as well as recordÂings like “Nobody Knows the TrouÂble I’ve Seen” by MarÂiÂan AnderÂson and “Sweet GeorÂgia Brown” by Ben Bernie and His Hotel RooÂsevelt OrchesÂtra have also, at long last, gone pubÂlic.
ReflecÂtion on some of these works themÂselves sugÂgests someÂthing about the imporÂtance of the pubÂlic domain. With the title of Cakes and Ale, anothÂer book in this year’s crop, SomÂerÂset MaughÂam makes refÂerÂence to “a clasÂsic pubÂlic domain work, in this case Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night”; so, for that matÂter, does FaulknÂer, givÂen that the line “as I lay dying” comes from the Odyssey. “To tell new stoÂries, we draw from oldÂer ones,” write JenkÂins and Boyle. “One work of art inspires anothÂer — that is how the pubÂlic domain feeds creÂativÂiÂty.” Today, we’re free to take explicÂit inspiÂraÂtion for our own work from NanÂcy Drew, “Just a GigoÂlo,” Blondie, MonÂdriÂan’s ComÂpoÂsiÂtion with Red, Blue, and YelÂlow, HitchÂcockÂ’s MurÂder!, and much else besides. And by all means use Rover, but if you also want to bring in DipÂpy Dawg, you’re going to have to wait until 2028.
Based in Seoul, ColÂin Marshall writes and broadÂcasts on cities, lanÂguage, and culÂture. His projects include the SubÂstack newsletÂterBooks on Cities and the book The StateÂless City: a Walk through 21st-CenÂtuÂry Los AngeÂles. FolÂlow him on the social netÂwork forÂmerÂly known as TwitÂter at @colinmarshall.
If you’re a regÂuÂlar lisÂtenÂer, you know that Ezra Klein wraps up his podÂcast interÂviews with a familÂiar quesÂtion: what three books would you recÂomÂmend to the audiÂence? When Klein interÂviewed BriÂan Eno in OctoÂber, the proÂducÂer had these three books to offer.
First up was PrintÂing and the Mind of Man, a catÂaÂlog from an exhiÂbiÂtion held at the British MuseÂum in 1963. “It was about the hisÂtoÂry of printÂing, but actuÂalÂly, the book is about the most imporÂtant books in the WestÂern canon and the impact that they had when they were released.” “It’s such a fasÂciÂnatÂing book because you realÂly start to underÂstand where the big, funÂdaÂmenÂtal ideas that made WestÂern culÂture came from.”
Next came A PatÂtern LanÂguage by the archiÂtect ChristoÂpher AlexanÂder. “It’s realÂly a book about habiÂtat, about what makes spaces welÂcomÂing and fruitÂful, or hosÂtile and barÂren.” Eno has returned to the book again and again over the years. “Over the course of my life, I’ve bought, I would say, 60 copies of that book because I always give it to anyÂone who is about to renÂoÂvate a house or about to build a house. It’s a great read, and you would love it.”
His third recÂomÂmenÂdaÂtion was Naples ’44, a war diary kept by NorÂman Lewis, a British intelÂliÂgence offiÂcer sent to Naples durÂing World War II. “He kept a diary, and this is the most fabÂuÂlous diary you’ll ever read. It’s just hilarÂiÂousÂly funÂny, deeply movÂing, and totalÂly confusing—and you realÂize that Naples was, like, anothÂer planÂet.”
UnderÂstandÂably, Klein couldn’t let the interÂview end withÂout also askÂing what albums influÂenced Eno most. In response, Eno offered The RurÂal Blues, a series of recordÂings of Black AmerÂiÂcan music from the 1920s, 30s, and 40s. It’s the same music that latÂer inspired pop and rock musiÂcians in EngÂland when Eno came of age. He also pointÂed to the VelÂvet Underground’s self-titled third album, callÂing it a “beauÂtiÂful, beauÂtiÂful record, beauÂtiÂfulÂly conÂtroÂverÂsial in many ways.” He then added: “In fact, probÂaÂbly withÂout that record, I wouldn’t have been a pop musiÂcian.” Many othÂer musiÂcians have said the same.
And finalÂly, despite being an atheÂist, Eno selectÂed a gospel recordÂing act known as The ConÂsolÂers, best known for their 1955 track “Give Me My FlowÂers.” You can lisÂten to more of their greatÂest hits here.
When disÂcussing a musiÂcian like Fela Kuti, many of our usuÂal terms fail us. They fail us, that is, if we came of age in a musiÂcal culÂture in which artists and bands put out an album of ten or so lyrics-forÂward songs every two or three years, proÂmotÂing it on tour while also playÂing their biggest hits. Fela — as all his fans refer to him — could put out six or sevÂen albums in a sinÂgle year, and refused to play live any mateÂrÂiÂal he’d already recordÂed. Even the word song, as we know it, doesÂn’t quite reflect the nature of his comÂpoÂsiÂtions, which got expanÂsive enough that two or three of them (or just one, half of it on each side) could fill a long-playÂing record.
WalÂter BenÂjamin said of great litÂerÂary works that they either disÂsolve a genre or invent one, and Fela’s musiÂcal works inventÂed the genre of Afrobeat. The sound of that genre, as explained by Noah Lefevre in the PolyÂphonÂic video above, reflects the disÂtincÂtive forÂmaÂtion of Fela himÂself, who was born and raised in NigeÂria, studÂied at the TrinÂiÂty ColÂlege of Music in LonÂdon, and came of age durÂing the end of Africa’s era of decolÂoÂnizaÂtion. To a lisÂtenÂer reared on Anglo-AmerÂiÂcan popÂuÂlar music, his sigÂnaÂture mixÂture of West African rhythms with jazz and funk texÂtures sounds familÂiar enough — at least for the first ten or fifÂteen minÂutes, after which time the lisÂtenÂing expeÂriÂence ascends to a difÂferÂent state entireÂly.
SomeÂtimes it takes Fela just about that long to start singing, and when he does, he’s givÂen to proclaÂmaÂtions, chants, calls-and-responsÂes, and politÂiÂcal exhorÂtaÂtions delivÂered in the kind of EngÂlish that sounds highÂly unfaÂmilÂiar to non-African lisÂtenÂers. Not that it’s always alienÂatÂing: indeed, this parÂticÂuÂlar comÂbiÂnaÂtion of words and music has capÂtiÂvatÂed genÂerÂaÂtions of lisÂtenÂers from far outÂside its place of oriÂgin. One of them is David Byrne, who used TalkÂing Heads’ Remain in Light as more or less a mediÂum for chanÂnelÂing the musiÂcal spirÂit of Fela. Not that he himÂself was gone yet: indeed, he had almost two decades of his eventÂful life to go, one you can learn much more about from Fela Kuti: Fear No Man, a twelve-part bioÂgraphÂiÂcal podÂcast by Jad AbumÂrad.
Brought into Fela’s world by a famÂiÂly conÂnecÂtion, that forÂmer RadiÂoÂlab host conÂductÂed dozens and dozens of interÂviews on the relaÂtionÂship between the man, his music, and the politÂiÂcal conÂtext in which he found himÂself. The facts, as any Fela fan knows, don’t always align comÂfortÂably with mainÂstream senÂsiÂbilÂiÂties of the twenÂty-twenÂties — the charges range from essenÂtialÂism to polygamy — but as Lefevre reminds us, an artist should be interÂpretÂed through the lens of his own culÂture and hisÂtoÂry. HowÂevÂer many of us conÂsidÂer him a “probÂlemÂatÂic fave” today, Fela Kuti will always be the man who inventÂed Afrobeat — and since nobody else has quite manÂaged to repliÂcate his grooves in their simulÂtaÂneÂous tightÂness and looseÂness, bluntÂness and subÂtleÂty, perÂhaps also the man who disÂsolved it.
Based in Seoul, ColÂin Marshall writes and broadÂcasts on cities, lanÂguage, and culÂture. His projects include the SubÂstack newsletÂterBooks on Cities and the book The StateÂless City: a Walk through 21st-CenÂtuÂry Los AngeÂles. FolÂlow him on the social netÂwork forÂmerÂly known as TwitÂter at @colinmarshall.
A cenÂtuÂry ago, the great French comÂposÂer Claude Debussy sat down at a conÂtrapÂtion called a Welte-Mignon reproÂducÂing piano and recordÂed a series of perÂforÂmances for posÂterÂiÂty. The machine was designed to encode the nuances of a pianist’s playÂing, includÂing pedÂalÂing and dynamÂics, onto piano rolls for latÂer reproÂducÂtion.
Debussy recordÂed 14 pieces onto six rolls in Paris on or before NovemÂber 1, 1913. AccordÂing to Debussy enthuÂsiÂast Steve Bryson’s web site, the comÂposÂer was delightÂed with the reproÂducÂtion qualÂiÂty, sayÂing in a letÂter to Edwin Welte: “It is imposÂsiÂble to attain a greater perÂfecÂtion of reproÂducÂtion than that of the Welte appaÂraÂtus. I am hapÂpy to assure you in these lines of my astonÂishÂment and admiÂraÂtion of what I heard. I am, Dear Sir, Yours FaithÂfulÂly, Claude Debussy.”
Debussy was 52 years old and sufÂferÂing from canÂcer when he made his piano roll recordÂings. He died less than five years latÂer, on March 25, 1918. Since then, his beauÂtiÂful and evocaÂtive music has secured a place for him as one of the most influÂenÂtial and popÂuÂlar comÂposers of the 20th cenÂtuÂry. As Roger Hecht writes at ClasÂsiÂcal Net, “Debussy was a dreamÂer whose music dreamed with him.”
If you would like to supÂport the misÂsion of Open CulÂture, conÂsidÂer makÂing a donaÂtion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your conÂtriÂbuÂtions will help us conÂtinÂue proÂvidÂing the best free culÂturÂal and eduÂcaÂtionÂal mateÂriÂals to learnÂers everyÂwhere. You can conÂtribute through PayÂPal, PatreÂon, and VenÂmo (@openculture). Thanks!
Note: An earÂliÂer verÂsion of this post appeared on our site in 2013.
Over the decades, Tom Jones has perÂformed with the best of them. In 1969, we can find him singing “Long Time Gone” with CrosÂby, Stills, Nash & Young, and takÂing them delightÂfulÂly by surÂprise. The same goes for his duetwith Janis Joplin in that same year. Now fast forÂward to the 1990s. In this decade, Jones teamed up with the Swedish rock band The CardiÂgans and perÂformed a rolÂlickÂing verÂsion of the TalkÂing Heads “BurnÂing Down the House.” And, rather unexÂpectÂedÂly, he would get paired with Pink FloyÂd’s David Gilmour and croon Prince’s “PurÂple Rain.”
The recordÂing above comes from Jones’ show The Right Time, a six-episode teleÂviÂsion series that aired in 1992. TracÂing the evoÂluÂtion of pop music, the show feaÂtured appearÂances by Bob GeldÂof, CynÂdi LauÂper, The ChiefÂtains and SteÂvie WonÂder. When it comes to his verÂsion of “PurÂple Rain,” don’t miss the Gilmour solo midÂway through. Enjoy!
If you’ve seen a David Byrne conÂcert in recent years, you know that he perÂforms with a large ensemÂble of musiÂcians, each carÂryÂing their own instruÂments across the stage, all while movÂing in intriÂcateÂly choreÂoÂgraphed patÂterns. On his curÂrent tour, Byrne and his band stopped by NPR’s stuÂdio and played a very difÂferÂent kind of show—a show tightÂly squeezed behind NPR’s Tiny Desk. As you will see above, they perÂformed two songs (“EveryÂbody Laughs” and “Don’t Be Like That”) from Byrne’s new album, along with two TalkÂing Heads favorites, “(NothÂing But) FlowÂers” and “Life DurÂing Wartime.” Enjoy!
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