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Yoko Ono and John Lennon, 1980
From a photographer’s perspective, success could be defined as having a career that comes anywhere close to the dust particles that Annie Leibovitz has left in her wake. While these days we have music literally at the touch of our fingers, the explosive force of a live performance can rarely be captured in a single frame.
However, ever few decades comes a photographer as gifted as Leibovitz, who manages to turn the experience of live music into a tangible form, a talent that is often overlooked and underrated.
When you look at a picture, you see the person in it, but not the one behind the camera. So today I’d like to draw light to the phenomenal being that is Annie Leibovitz.
Annie Leibovitz really hammered her name into history when she snapped the last living photo of John Lennon, taken five hours before he was shot dead. The picture of him wrapped naked around Yoko Ono was taken at their home in London and was intended for the cover of his soon to be released album. Two days after Lennon was murdered, Leibovitz explains in her latest book (Annie Leibovitz – At Work) that she went back over to their apartment and found Yoko lying in bed in a dark room with all the curtains drawn. Annie picked the best shot from the roll and showed it to Yoko who simply nodded her approval. Of course the picture gained a devastating significance beyond its original purpose, gracing the covers of Rolling Stone Magazine and officially becoming the last image of a musician who's work would go down in the history of music and culture.
Rolling Stone Magazine kicked off Leibovitz’s career, throwing her in the deep end and sending her on serious assignments. Leibovitz had her first encounter with John Lennon during a Rolling Stone interview and recalls that he put her at ease and basically set the bar for her demeanor around future artists.
In 1975 Leibovitz was sent on tour with the Rolling Stones. She learnt first hand the life of a rock star and how you can lose yourself in a subject. Amongst the music, booze, drugs, late nights and constant stream of hotels, Leibovitz notes at one point she felt the only thing separating herself from the Rolling Stones was her camera.
Mick Jagger on tour, 1975
In her book Leibovitz talks of the never ending task of trying to capture the perfect portrait on the Rolling Stones tour. She developed a close relationship with Mick Jagger and says that out of all the pictures she took of him, her favourite is a post concert shot of him standing in a hotel lift, towel wrapped around his head and an “ethereal” look on his face.
Mick Jagger in lift post show, 1975
Other pictures . .
Miley Cyrus, 2008
The White Stripes, 2003
Keith Richards for Louis Vuitton, 2008
In the midst of a shitty pub with even shittier sound and a supporting band that left people swaying awkwardly and fumbling for change to buy a much needed drink, one of New Zealand's biggest emerging bands waits in the wings.
Cut Off Your Hands may have only been around for two short years but have managed to successfully tour the globe to such an extent that press back in their hometown felt forlorn and forgotten. Local NZ papers accused them of leaving their heritage in a plume of dust after taking off for NY, London and Tokyo. Jealous much?
Well apparently there is a lot to envy. Riding their success particularly in the UK, singer Nick Johnston turned the comatosed straggling crowd into a mosh pit after injecting enough energy into the stage to rival an 8 year old with A.D.D.
Half way through the set Nick threw himself into the crowd and managed to get back on stage just in time for the chorus of Happy As Can Be. The show turned into a free for all after this with the more dedicated fans bombarding security to thrash about on stage with the band. Amongst the reckless and half naked fans was Channel V’s Danny Clayton, eloquently jerking to the slightest crack of the drums. Aside from the entertainment factor of seeing someone lose control, it was refreshing to see a VJ with some interest and knowledge in music. Unfortunately this is not a claim many of Australia’s ‘music presenters’ can make. However that seems to be another blog..
Cut Off Your Hands pumped out their better known tunes Closed Eyes, Still Fond and Oh Girl, the latter of which caused a previously sullen and well kept blond behind me to lose her shit; screaming in my ear giving me a charitable elbow to the head at the same time. There was just no room to be angry however with the grand scale vocals blasting through the room, lifting one out of the dreary pub and into another place altogether.
I would almost call myself bias if it weren’t for C.O.Y.H’s recent hit list of shows including Falls Festival, St. Jerome’s Laneway Festival, Splendour in the Grass and supporting the likes of Bloc Party and The Wombats.
Clearly this talented bunch has only more fans to gain and more audiences to blow away.
September 17th 2008 05:26
Generic love song
This one is untitled because it specifically applies to each couple. That special song which once induced a fluttering mating dance is now the soundtrack to your misery. You can hardly hear the music over your wailing. You need to not listen to this song for at least six months to avoid jumping off a sizable gap. But you’re going to listen to it anyway, so you may as well cry it out. However when you’re unable to breathe because snot has clogged every orifice in your body you know it’s time to press pause. At least do it for the sake of your neighbors who have probably called the police in the fear that someone inside your house is torturing a sack of babies.
Gloria Gaynor – I Will Survive:
The ultimate shameless classic. Go to karaoke. Belt it out. You’re still at the stage where you’re eyes look as if you’ve been in a serious car accident, and every window you look at beckons you to jump out of it. Your friends probably want to kill you by now so you won’t risk losing any by singing this song in public. Because you’ll be alone. Main risk is for boys – any female in the room will think you’re a clear candidate for the other team and are more likely to talk to you about their menstrual cycle than a possibility of rebound sex.
The Avalanches – Since I left you:
A dreamy sweet melody laced with coconuts lulls you into a beautiful false sense of security. Then the lyrics come in.. “Since I left you, I’ve found a world so new, every day”. Closing your eyes you let yourself believe that this ‘new world’ you’ve found contains a tropical island, a lot of smiley people and a never ending supply of pinna coladas. You’re not hurting anymore and happen to be extremely tanned and good looking. Everyone there loves you and you’ve acquired the ability to skip down the beach in slow motion wearing a hula skirt and a giant grin adorns your untainted heart.
Slight downer when the song ends and you open your eyes to find a doona full of chocolate slice and a landscape of used tissues. Try and hit ‘repeat’ before reaching for the blade.
The Teenagers – Homecoming
So you’ve dragged your sorry arse out of bed to try and stimulate blood circulation if nothing else. The sudden movement has released some of your dormant serotonin and you get a fleeting kick of confidence. The unemotional, cocky swagger of The Teenagers suddenly appeals to you. They represent everything you are not. In a pathetic attempt to emulate them, you scream the lyrics “I fucked my American c*nt” and “It was a dirty dream come true, just like I like it she’s got nice tits”. That’s right, all you’ve been dreaming about is the hot sex you’re going to have, you don’t even want emotional attachment or security; you’re a machine. You’re life revolves around being the pimp you’ve always knew you were. You like nice tits. And apparently you like fucking your cousin.
Who are you kidding? Go back to bed and wallow, fool.
The Vines – Get Free
“I wanna get free ride into the sun, she never loved me why would anyone?” This is the premise for your first night ‘out on the town’. Don’t take any valuables, disable your phone from making calls and sending txt msg’s, wear as much protective gear as possible and don’t go anywhere where anyone will know you. Make some calls to secure a friend who will bail you out of jail in the morning.
UB40 - Red Red Wine
What better song to sing while you’re wrapped in flannelet pj's, getting drunk and considering an overdose on whatever prescription medications you can find in the kitchen? “Red, red wine stay close to me, don`t let me be alone It`s tearin` apart my blue, blue heart”. You then write a request for paramedics to throw your blue blue heart at the front door of your ex’s house. Maybe then they’ll be sorry.
Underworld – Born Slippy
This works best for when you have been clinically classified as ‘emotionally barron’. You are a zombie and have moved onto being completely indifferent to your wellbeing. You are taking drugs and don’t like emerging from your den during daylight hours. You wear baggy, ripped jeans, have a shaved head and are running through a street in Scotland with a large bag of cash and a big grin on your face. This is what happens if you don’t ‘chose life’.
The combination of British India and absence of any sort of barricade at Sydney’s Metro Theatre was always a riot begging to be started. After what seemed like a three year wait before the boys appeared, the unsuspecting foursome casually strolled on stage. The lead singer Declan tripped on his toe and stumbled, the kind of manoeuvre usually occurring at a school bus stop when there’s someone nearby to impress. Recovery however came not in the form of a red faced attempt to blend into the nearest large tree but bursting the silence with a single stroke of the electric guitar and almost whispering into the microphone “God is dead so meet the kids now they’re on stage for you”.
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Santi White has been called a lot of things lately. Aside from her alter ego Santogold, music junkies have pinned her as “M.I.A who can actually sing”. A big call to make, but there is no doubt this Philadelphian native has a lot to say. The real question lies however with whether we are ready for her or not
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Rumors have been flying lately that Van She are about to be dropped from their record label Modular. The band played last night in Sydney at the filming of MTV’s music show, The Lair. The audience was lively enough with the usual head bopping skulk of a dance that has formed a genre of it’s own with Modular’s bands in particular. There were also the generic two or three psychos who take the essence of ‘dance like nobody’s watching’ a little too far and appear to be violently fitting, creating a three meter radius of an exclusion zone around themselves. And yes, they had the ‘crazy’ hair thing going on
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Cramming into Sydney’s Hordern Pavilion I could feel the (non drug related) buzz that my stomach reserves only for the only two men with slightly receding hairlines that I fancy: The Presets
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So Daniel Johns and his “new flame” have finally been ‘snapped’ together. It seems that Silverchair front man has become something of an old hat at playing rock-star, not surprising considering his success from the tender age of 15yrs old
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