Did Beethoven Use a Broken Metronome When Composing His String Quartets? Scientists & Musicians Try to Solve the Centuries-Old Mystery

When it comes to clas­si­cal com­posers, Beethoven was pret­ty met­al. But was he writ­ing some kind of clas­si­cal thrash? Hard­core orches­tra­tions too fast for the aver­age musi­cian to play? 66 out of 135 of Beethoven’s tem­po mark­ings made with his new metronome in the ear­ly 1800s seem “absurd­ly fast and thus pos­si­bly wrong,” researchers write in a recent Amer­i­can Math­e­mat­i­cal Soci­ety arti­cle titled “Was Some­thing Wrong with Beethoven’s Metronome?” Indeed, the authors go on, “many if not most of Beethoven’s mark­ings have been ignored by lat­ter day con­duc­tors and record­ing artists” because of their incred­i­ble speed.

Since the late 19th cen­tu­ry and into the age of record­ed music, con­duc­tors have slowed Beethoven’s quar­tets down, so that we have all inter­nal­ized them at a slow­er pace than he pre­sum­ably meant them to be played. “These pieces have through­out the years entered the sub­con­scious of pro­fes­sion­al musi­cians, ama­teurs and audi­ences, and the tra­di­tion,” writes the Beethoven Project, “hand­ed down by the great quar­tets of yes­ter­year.” Slow­er tem­pos have “become a norm against which all sub­se­quent per­for­mances are judged.”

Eybler Quar­tet vio­list Patrick Jor­dan found out just how deeply musi­cians and audi­ences have inter­nal­ized slow­er tem­pi when he became inter­est­ed in play­ing and record­ing at Beethoven’s indi­cat­ed speeds in the mid-80s. “Find­ing a group of peo­ple who were pre­pared to actu­al­ly take [Beethoven’s metronome marks] seriously—that was a 30-year wait,” he tells CBC. “A huge amount of our labour required that we un-learn those things; that we get notions of what we’ve heard record­ed and played in con­certs many times out of our heads and try to put in what Beethoven, at least at some point in his life, believed and thought high­ly enough to make a note of and pub­lish.”

But did he? The sub­ject of Beethoven’s metronome has been a source of con­tro­ver­sy for some time. A few his­to­ri­ans have the­o­rized that the inven­tor of the metronome, Johann Nepo­muk Mälzel, “some­thing of a mechan­i­cal wiz­ard,” Smith­son­ian writes, and also some­thing of a dis­rep­utable char­ac­ter, sab­o­taged the device he pre­sent­ed to the com­pos­er in 1815 as a peace offer­ing after he sued Beethoven for the rights to a com­po­si­tion. (Mälzel actu­al­ly stole the metronome’s design from a Dutch mechan­ic named Diet­rich Winkel.) But most musi­col­o­gists and his­to­ri­ans have dis­missed the the­o­ry of delib­er­ate trick­ery.

Still, the prob­lem of too-fast tem­pi per­sists. “The lit­er­a­ture on the sub­ject is enor­mous,” admit the authors of the Amer­i­can Math­e­mat­i­cal Soci­ety study. Their research sug­gests that Beethoven’s metronome was sim­ply bro­ken and he didn’t notice. Like­wise data sci­en­tists at the Uni­ver­si­dad Car­los III de Madrid have the­o­rized that the com­pos­er, one of the very first to use the device, mis­read the machine, a case of musi­cal mis­pri­sion in his reac­tion against what he called in 1817 “these non­sen­si­cal terms alle­gro, andante, ada­gio, presto….”

The­o­rists may find the tem­pi hard to believe, but the Toron­to-based Eybler Quar­tet was unde­terred by their skep­ti­cism. “I don’t think there’s any evi­dence to sug­gest that the mech­a­nism itself was [faulty],” says Jor­dan, “and we know from [Beethoven’s] cor­re­spon­dence and con­tem­po­ra­ne­ous accounts that he was very con­cerned that his metronome stay in good work­ing order and he had it recal­i­brat­ed fre­quent­ly so it was accu­rate.” Jor­dan instead cred­its the pun­ish­ing speeds to Romanticism’s pas­sion­ate indi­vid­u­al­ism, and to the fact that “Beethoven was not always so very nice.” Maybe, instead of sooth­ing his audi­ences, he want­ed to shock them and set their hearts rac­ing.

Who are we to believe? Ques­tions of tem­po can be fraught in clas­si­cal cir­cles (wit­ness the reac­tions to Glenn Gould’s absurd­ly slow ver­sions of Bach.) The metronome was sup­posed to solve prob­lems of rhyth­mic impre­ci­sion. Instead, at least in Beethoven’s case, it rein­scribed them in com­po­si­tions that bold­ly chal­lenge ideas of what a clas­si­cal quar­tet is sup­posed to sound like, which makes me think he knew exact­ly what he was doing.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Watch Ani­mat­ed Scores of Beethoven’s 16 String Quar­tets: An Ear­ly Cel­e­bra­tion of the 250th Anniver­sary of His Birth

How Did Beethoven Com­pose His 9th Sym­pho­ny After He Went Com­plete­ly Deaf?

Stream the Com­plete Works of Bach & Beethoven: 250 Free Hours of Music

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

What’s Entering the Public Domain in 2021: The Great Gatsby & Mrs. Dalloway, Music by Irving Berlin & Duke Ellington, Comedies by Buster Keaton, and More

“The year 1925 was a gold­en moment in lit­er­ary his­to­ry,” writes the BBC’s Jane Cia­bat­tari. “Ernest Hemingway’s first book, In Our Time, Vir­ginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dal­loway and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gats­by were all pub­lished that year. As were Gertrude Stein’s The Mak­ing of Amer­i­cans, John Dos Pas­sos’ Man­hat­tan Trans­fer, Theodore Dreiser’s An Amer­i­can Tragedy and Sin­clair Lewis’s Arrow­smith, among oth­ers.” In that year, adds Direc­tor of Duke’s Cen­ter for the Study of the Pub­lic Domain Jen­nifer Jenk­ins, “the styl­is­tic inno­va­tions pro­duced by books such as Gats­by, or The Tri­al, or Mrs. Dal­loway marked a change in both the tone and the sub­stance of our lit­er­ary cul­ture, a broad­en­ing of the range of pos­si­bil­i­ties avail­able to writ­ers.”

In the year 2021, no mat­ter what area of cul­ture we inhab­it, we now find our own range of pos­si­bil­i­ties broad­ened. Works from 1925 have entered the pub­lic domain in the Unit­ed States, and Duke Uni­ver­si­ty’s post rounds up more than a few notable exam­ples. These include, in addi­tion to the afore­men­tioned titles, books like W. Som­er­set Maugh­am’s The Paint­ed Veil and Etsu Ina­ga­ki Sug­i­mo­to’s A Daugh­ter of the Samu­rai; films like The Fresh­man and Go West, by silent-com­e­dy mas­ters Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton; and music like Irv­ing Berlin’s “Always” and sev­er­al com­po­si­tions by Duke Elling­ton, includ­ing “Jig Walk” and “With You.”

These works’ pub­lic-domain sta­tus means that, among many oth­er ben­e­fits to all of us, the Inter­net Archive can eas­i­ly add them to its online library. In addi­tion, writes Jenk­ins, “HathiTrust will make tens of thou­sands of titles from 1925 avail­able in its dig­i­tal repos­i­to­ry. Google Books will offer the full text of books from that year, instead of show­ing only snip­pet views or autho­rized pre­views. Com­mu­ni­ty the­aters can screen the films. Youth orches­tras can afford to pub­licly per­form, or rearrange, the music.” And the cre­ators of today “can legal­ly build on the past — reimag­in­ing the books, mak­ing them into films, adapt­ing the songs.”

Does any new­ly pub­lic-domained work of 2021 hold out as obvi­ous a promise in that regard as Fitzger­ald’s great Amer­i­can nov­el? Any of us can now make The Great Gats­by “into a film, or opera, or musi­cal,” retell it “from the per­spec­tive of Myr­tle or Jor­dan, or make pre­quels and sequels,” writes Jenk­ins. “In fact, nov­el­ist Michael Far­ris Smith is slat­ed to release Nick, a Gats­by pre­quel telling the sto­ry of Nick Carraway’s life before he moves to West Egg, on Jan­u­ary 5, 2021.” What­ev­er results, it will fur­ther prove what Cia­bat­tari calls the “con­tin­u­ing res­o­nance” of not just Jay Gats­by but all the oth­er major char­ac­ters cre­at­ed by the nov­el­ists of 1925, inhab­i­tants as well as embod­i­ments of a “trans­for­ma­tive time” who are “still enthralling gen­er­a­tions of new read­ers” — and writ­ers, or for that mat­ter, cre­ators of all kinds.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free: The Great Gats­by & Oth­er Major Works by F. Scott Fitzger­ald

The Only Known Footage of the 1926 Film Adap­ta­tion of The Great Gats­by (Which F. Scott Fitzger­ald Hat­ed)

Duke Ellington’s Sym­pho­ny in Black, Star­ring a 19-Year-old Bil­lie Hol­i­day

Safe­ty Last, the 1923 Movie Fea­tur­ing the Most Icon­ic Scene from Silent Film Era, Just Went Into the Pub­lic Domain

31 Buster Keaton Films: “The Great­est of All Com­ic Actors,” “One of the Great­est Film­mak­ers of All Time”

18 (Free) Books Ernest Hem­ing­way Wished He Could Read Again for the First 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.

Listen to James Baldwin’s Record Collection in a 478-track, 32-Hour Spotify Playlist

Pho­to via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Each writer’s process is a per­son­al rela­tion­ship between them and the page—and the desk, room, chair, pens or pen­cils, type­writer or lap­top, turntable, CD play­er, stream­ing audio… you get the idea. The kind of music suit­able for lis­ten­ing to while writ­ing (I, for one, can­not write to music with lyrics) varies so wide­ly that it encom­pass­es every­thing and noth­ing. Silence can be a kind of music, too, if you lis­ten close­ly.

Far more inter­est­ing than try­ing to make gen­er­al rules is to exam­ine spe­cif­ic cas­es: to learn the music a writer hears when they com­pose, to divine the rhythms that ani­mat­ed their prose.

There are almost always clues. Favorite albums left behind in writ­ing rooms or writ­ten about with high praise. Some­times the music enters into the nov­el, becomes a char­ac­ter itself. In James Baldwin’s Anoth­er Coun­try, music is a pow­er­ful pro­cre­ative force:

The beat: hands, feet, tam­bourines, drums, pianos, laugh­ter, curs­es, razor blades: the man stiff­en­ing with a laugh and a growl and a purr and the woman moist­en­ing and soft­en­ing with a whis­per and a sigh and a cry. The beat—in Harlem in the sum­mer­time one could almost see it, shak­ing above the pave­ments and the roof.

Bald­win fin­ished his first nov­el, 1953’s Go Tell It on the Moun­tain, not in Harlem but in the Swiss Alps, where he moved “with two Bessie Smith records and a type­writer under his arm,” writes Valenti­na Di Lis­cia at Hyper­al­ler­gic. He “large­ly attrib­ut­es” the nov­el “to Smith’s bluesy into­na­tions.” As he told Studs Terkel in 1961, “Bessie had the beat. In that icy wilder­ness, as far removed from Harlem as any­thing you can imag­ine, with Bessie and me… I began…”

Ikechúk­wú Onyewuenyi, a cura­tor at the Ham­mer Muse­um in Los Ange­les, has gone much fur­ther, dig­ging through all the deep cuts in Baldwin’s col­lec­tion while liv­ing in Provence and try­ing to recap­ture the atmos­phere of Baldwin’s home, “those bois­ter­ous and ten­der con­vos when guests like Nina Simone, Ste­vie Won­der… Maya Angelou, Toni Mor­ri­son” stopped by for din­ner and debates. He first encoun­tered the records in a pho­to­graph post­ed by La Mai­son Bald­win, the orga­ni­za­tion that pre­serves his house in Saint-Paul de Vence in the South of France. “I latched onto his records, their son­ic ambi­ence,” Onyewuenyi says.

“In addi­tion to read­ing the books and essays” that Bald­win wrote while liv­ing in France, Onyewuenyi dis­cov­ered “lis­ten­ing to the records was some­thing that could trans­port me there.” He has com­piled Baldwin’s col­lec­tion into a 478-track, 32-hour Spo­ti­fy playlist, Chez Bald­win. Only two records couldn’t be found on the stream­ing plat­form, Lou Rawls’ When the Night Comes (1983) and Ray Charles’s Sweet & Sour Tears (1964). Lis­ten to the full playlist above, prefer­ably while read­ing Bald­win, or com­pos­ing your own works of prose, verse, dra­ma, and email.

“The playlist is a balm of sorts when one is writ­ing,” Onyewuenyi told Hyper­al­ler­gic. “Bald­win referred to his office as a ‘tor­ture cham­ber.’ We’ve all encoun­tered those moments of writ­ers’ block, where the process of putting pen to paper feels like blood­let­ting. That process of tor­ture for Bald­win was nego­ti­at­ed with these records.”

via Hyper­al­ler­gic

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Why James Baldwin’s Writ­ing Stays Pow­er­ful: An Art­ful­ly Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to the Author of Notes of a Native Son

The Best Music to Write By: Give Us Your Rec­om­men­da­tions

The Best Music to Write By, Part II: Your Favorites Brought Togeth­er in a Spe­cial Playlist

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

The David Bowie Monopoly Game Is Here: Advance to GO and Collect 200 Hunky Dorys!

Anoth­er way to pass the time while we’re snug­gled in, await­ing the arrival of a vac­cine: David Bowie Monop­oly.

Gone are the thim­ble, the top hat, the old boot and oth­er icon­ic game pieces you may remem­ber from your child­hood or rainy days in sea­side hol­i­day rentals.

This spe­cial edi­tion replaces them with 6 major Bowie sig­ni­fiers: a star, a skull, a Pier­rot hat, a rolled up tie, a space hel­met, and a light­ning bolt.

Monop­oly has pre­vi­ous­ly catered to music fans with sets devot­ed to AC/DC, Bea­t­les, Metal­li­ca and the Rolling Stones, but Bowie’s chameleon­ic qual­i­ty and high­ly devel­oped aes­thet­ic sense ensures that this one’s ephemera will appeal to all fac­tions of the Bowieli­gious, not just those with the patience for a long board game.

For­get about Board­walk and Mar­vin Gar­dens. Instead of real estate, the perime­ters of the board fea­ture albums from Bowie’s enor­mous cat­a­log.

Secure albums to begin erect­ing stages and sta­di­ums that oth­er play­ers will have to “rent” when they roll into town.

The Chance and Com­mu­ni­ty Chest decks have also under­gone some ch-ch-changes. Play­ers now draw Sound and Vision cards which have the capac­i­ty to “open doors, pull some strings or bring the stars crash­ing down.”

Col­lec­tors will find that this set’s paper mon­ey pairs nice­ly with the sou­venir Metro­cards from Bowie’s posthu­mous 2018 takeover of a New York City sub­way sta­tion.

The four cor­ner­stones of Monopoly—GO, Free Park­ing, JAIL, and Go to Jail—remain faith­ful to the orig­i­nal, leav­ing some fans opin­ing that an oppor­tu­ni­ty was missed:


When you weary of David Bowie Monop­oly, you can play a cou­ple hands of Bowie, a free down­load­able card game that can be print­ed at home:

Each play­er will play David Bowie, or more accu­rate­ly, a per­sona of David Bowie. The object of the game is to achieve the great­est lega­cy of any Bowie and sur­vive the 1970’s. Lega­cy is judged by points earned from cut­ting records (flat, black, round- oh, nev­er­mind). There is one slight prob­lem. The Bowies are endan­gered by var­i­ous threats, dark princes, and fig­ures of the occult (which is in no way relat­ed to the copi­ous amount of cocaine being inhaled by our hero). If any Bowie dies, all Bowies are dead and the game is lost.

There’s also Bowie’s appear­ance in the 1999 video game, Omikron: The Nomad Soul:

David Bowie Monop­oly is avail­able for pur­chase here.

via Dan­ger­ous Minds

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

David Bowie’s Rise as Zig­gy Star­dust Doc­u­ment­ed in a New 300-Page Pho­to Book

The David Bowie Book Club Gets Launched by His Son: Read One of Bowie’s 100 Favorite Books Every Month

When David Bowie Launched His Own Inter­net Ser­vice Provider: The Rise and Fall of BowieNet (1998)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. She most recent­ly appeared as a French Cana­di­an bear who trav­els to New York City in search of food and mean­ing in Greg Kotis’ short film, L’Ourse.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The Ultimate 80s Medley: A Nostalgia-Inducing Performance of A‑Ha, Tears for Fears, Depeche Mode, Peter Gabriel, Van Halen & More

The last time we checked in with Germany’s own Mar­tin Miller Ses­sion Band, they dropped a love­ly cov­er of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon album, one that bal­anced all the bits you know by heart with enough of their own iden­ti­ty to make it jump off your YouTube screen.

Now they’re back with a new ses­sion in the age of COVID–hence a few of them wear­ing masks–to run through a tight 26 min­utes of 1980s songs in a med­ley that will have your toes a’tappin’.

Now, the selec­tion does tend toward the rock side, but the Miller Ses­sion band are set up that way, with a sol­id rhythm sec­tion in drum­mer Felix Lehrmann and Ben­ni Jud on bass. Lehrmann cer­tain­ly played *more* drums than the min­i­mal­ist Nick Mason on their Pink Floyd trib­ute–the YouTube com­ments called him out a bit too much on that–but here it’s all good. If any­thing some of the ‘80s hits had a bit too much pro­grammed drums, and they liv­en up the expe­ri­ence. The spe­cial guest this time is Michal Skul­s­ki, play­ing sax on “Sledge­ham­mer”.

Of course, your mileage may vary with this playlist, as there are songs here that I dear­ly love (“Every­body Wants to Rule the World,” “Enjoy the Silence”) and ones that I could live with­out (“The Final Count­down, “Eye of the Tiger”), and that’s all about taste, whether you went to high school in the 1980s, or were born dur­ing it, and your repeat­ed expo­sure ad nau­se­um to these tunes. You might be glad about the bits they leave in, or dis­grun­tled over the sec­tions they leave out (Miller improvs his own solo to the Tears for Fears song, but if you ask me, that orig­i­nal solo by Roland Orz­a­bal and then Neil Tay­lor is one of the best from that entire decade, and ‘80s pop real­ly didn’t *have* gui­tar solos).

But any band that decides to have a go at “Take On Me” bet­ter have those octave jump­ing pipes. Miller, I’m glad to say, does, chan­nel­ing his inner Ron­nie Dio to do so. And Mar­ius Leicht’s organ solo is actu­al­ly an improve­ment on the orig­i­nal.

How­ev­er, I must point out that the finale, Depeche Mode’s “Enjoy the Silence” is not an ‘80s song. As any Mode fan will tell you, the sin­gle came out in ear­ly 1990. (I was *there* mannn, it was a total­ly dif­fer­ent decade!) Still, the Mar­tin Miller Ses­sion Band real­ly get into this one, break­ing the song down and build­ing it back up again for a tremen­dous fin­ish.

It may not be the “ulti­mate” ‘80s med­ley, but is *an* ‘80s med­ley and a damn good one too.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Dis­cov­er Rare 1980s CDs by Lou Reed, Devo & Talk­ing Heads That Com­bined Music with Com­put­er Graph­ics

The Inter­net Archive Hosts 20,000 VHS Record­ings of Pop Cul­ture from the 1980s & 1990s: Enter the VHS Vault

How the Yama­ha DX7 Dig­i­tal Syn­the­siz­er Defined the Sound of 1980s Music

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the Notes from the Shed pod­cast and is the pro­duc­er of KCR­W’s Curi­ous Coast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, and/or watch his films here.

Revisit Kate Bush’s Peculiar Christmas Special, Featuring Peter Gabriel (1979)

It’s been hard out there for Kate Bush fans. Since the genius “Queen of British Pop” retired from tour­ing in 1979, pub­lic appear­ances have been few and far-between. She found the machin­ery of pop-star­dom a hin­drance to her process, and she’s been busy with oth­er things, she says. “Every time I fin­ish an album, I go into visu­al projects…. So I start­ed to veer away from the thing of being a live per­form­ing artist, to one of being a record­ing artist with attached visu­als.”

Fans are not enti­tled to her pres­ence, but Kate Bush was sore­ly missed in the 35 years between her first tour and her 2014 “Before the Dawn” res­i­den­cy at London’’s Ham­mer­smith Apol­lo. Before return­ing to the stage, she kept her­self in the pub­lic eye with elab­o­rate­ly cos­tumed music videos, a for­mat per­fect­ly suit­ed to her the­atri­cal and cin­e­mat­ic ambi­tions. (Asked by an inter­view­er in 1980 what she want­ed to do next, she answered, “Every­thing.”)

But then there’s the Kate Bush Christ­mas Spe­cial, “titled sim­ply Kate on-screen,” writes Chris­tine Pal­lon. The pro­gram, which “aired on the BBC on Decem­ber 28th, 1979,” fol­lowed on the heels of the Tour of Life, the whirl­wind debut con­cert series that promised, but did not deliv­er, so many more. “The Christ­mas special’s chore­og­ra­phy bor­rows heav­i­ly from that tour. But where she sang live on the Tour of Life, she lip-syncs to pre-record­ed tracks here and incor­po­rates pre-record­ed video seg­ments. As a result, the Christ­mas spe­cial plays out more like a crazy, long­form music video than a tra­di­tion­al stage show.”

Does Kate Bush sing Christ­mas songs? Does she sit on Santa’s lap? Does she mime, arms akim­bo, before the yule log?

Does she lounge on a piano next to a Gold­en Age croon­er?

C’mon…

Okay, she sings one Christ­mas song, “Decem­ber Will Be Mag­ic Again,” an orig­i­nal released as a UK sin­gle that year. The song pays earnest homage to tra­di­tion­al Christ­mas fig­ures like Bing Cros­by, Saint Nick, and Oscar Wilde before Kate turns into some kind of strange San­ta-like being who drops down on “the white city” in a para­chute to “cov­er the lovers.”

Oth­er­wise, the Christ­mas Spe­cial draws on Bush’s first three albums. In addi­tion to her entourage of dancers and back­up lip-syncers, she also invites a spe­cial guest—Peter Gabriel, of course (who might just as well be called the male Kate Bush)—to sing his “Here Comes the Flood” and duet with her on the extreme­ly down­beat “Anoth­er Day.”

Christ­mas spir­it? Who needs it? This is Kate, answer­ing the age-old ques­tion, Pal­lon writes, “what would hap­pen if the BBC gave a Christ­mas spe­cial to an incred­i­bly ambi­tious 21-year-old art rock­er who also smokes a ton of weed?” See the full track­list, with time­stamps, just below. Enjoy, and Hap­py Kate Bush Christ­mas Spe­cial Day!

Kate Bush — Christ­mas Spe­cial Track­list:

(Intro) 00:00
Vio­lin 00:29
(Gymnopédie No.1 — com­posed by Erik Satie) 03:44
Sym­pho­ny In Blue 04:44
Them Heavy Peo­ple 08:20
(Intro for Peter Gabriel) 12:52
Here Comes The Flood (Peter Gabriel) 13:22
Ran Tan Waltz 17:02
Decem­ber Will Be Mag­ic Again 19:43
The Wed­ding List 23:35
Anoth­er Day (with Peter Gabriel) 28:05
Egypt 31:41
The Man With The Child In His Eyes 36:21
Don’t Push Your Foot On The Heart­break 39:24

Relat­ed Con­tent:  

Watch a Tow­er­ing Orches­tral Trib­ute to Kate Bush: A 40th Anniver­sary Cel­e­bra­tion of Her First Sin­gle, “Wuther­ing Heights”

300 Kate Bush Imper­son­ators Pay Trib­ute to Kate Bush’s Icon­ic “Wuther­ing Heights” Video

2009 Kate Bush Doc­u­men­tary Dubs Her “Queen of British Pop”

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

The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain Performs The Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction”

The Ukulele Orches­tra of Great Britain–we’ve fea­tured them here before, play­ing cov­ers of every­thing from David Bowie’s “Heroes,” to Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spir­it,” Talk­ing Heads’ “Psy­cho Killer” and The Who’s “Pin­ball Wiz­ard.” And let’s not for­get their stir­ring per­for­mances of Ennio Morricone’s west­ern theme songs. Now, to help lift you out of the COVID gloom, they’re back with a nov­el take on the Stones’ 1965 clas­sic, “(I Can’t Get No) Sat­is­fac­tion.” Hope you enjoy.

Note: The orches­tra plans to post a new video every Sun­day on their YouTube chan­nel, and a full (pay-per-view) con­cert every month avail­able on their web­site.

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!

via Laugh­ing Squid

Relat­ed Con­tent

The Ukulele Orches­tra of Great Britain Per­forms Stun­ning Cov­ers of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spir­it,” Talk­ing Heads’ “Psy­cho Killer” & More

Ukulele Orches­tra Per­forms Ennio Morricone’s Icon­ic West­ern Theme Song, “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.” And It’s Pret­ty Bril­liant.

David Bowie’s “Heroes” Delight­ful­ly Per­formed by the Ukulele Orches­tra of Great Britain

Watch the Rolling Stones Play “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” While Social Dis­tanc­ing in Quar­an­tine

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Robert Fripp & Toyah Willcox Sing the Sex Pistols’ “Anarchy in the UK” While Dressed as Santa and Elf

Yes, 2020 sucked. But not com­plete­ly, entire­ly and thor­ough­ly. Enjoy this brief sun­ny moment, cour­tesy of Robert Fripp and Toy­ah Will­cox.

If you vis­it their Sun­day Lunch playlist, you can watch them have fun with oth­er clas­sics by Nir­vana, Bowie, Alice Coop­er, The Kinks and more. Enjoy.

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Relat­ed Con­tent:

Robert Fripp & King Crim­son Per­form a Stir­ring Cov­er of “Heroes,” Short­ly after David Bowie’s Death (2016)

Robert Fripp Releas­es Free Ambi­ent Music to Get You Through the Lock­down: Enjoy “Music for Qui­et Moments”

Derek Jarman’s Jubilee: “It’s the Best Film about Punk” (1978)

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