Mathematical Institute Bulletin: Song of the Week

Shostakovich's 7th Symphony was dedicated to the Russian city of Leningrad which was under siege from the German army in 1942 and where it was performed during the siege on 9 August 1942. Meanwhile, 80 years later...

You may not think Motörhead your thing, but you might just find the riff head-banging its way in to your weekend. And the sentiment applies everywhere.

Duke Ellington wrote this song in the 1930s, but this recording is from his 1962 collaboration with John Coltrane when he was 63 and Coltrane was 36. Duke is the pianist, 'Trane' the saxophonist. Two innovators from different eras of Jazz (or "American Music" as Duke liked to call it).

Music for Airports is the first of four ambient albums from musician (Roxy Music and solo), producer (U2, Bowie) and artist, Brian Eno. The idea came to him as he sat in the drab atmosphere of 1970s Cologne Bonn Airport. The creative process consisted, in typical Eno style, of splicing together various loops of recordings. It was designed to be played continously and to induce a sense of calm - Eno was a nervous flyer.

This is the first part. It's 17 minutes but it will take you calmly in to the weekend after reading an exhausting Bulletin (if anyone gets this far).

In 1968 British singer Dusty Sprngfield left for Memphis to revive her career and expand her range from the pop style of her earlier years (good though it is). The result was the Dusty in Memphis album. Still pop, but no little Soul.

Anti-war songs are a staple of popular music, ranging from Edwin Star ("War! What is it good for?") to, er, Culture Club ("War, war is stupid, and people are stupid").

Shipbuilding, written by Clive Langer with lyrics by Elvis Costello and delivered via the distinctive vocal chords of Robert Wyatt, is more ironic, and one of the best. It was written in 1982 when the UK sent a fleet of ships and troops to the Falkland Islands which had been invaded by Argentina.

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor was an English composer and conductor. Born in London in 1875, his mother was English and his father, a descendant of African-American slaves, was from Sierra Leone. He was named by his mother after the romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

Monkee Mike Nesmith died last month. The Monkees might have been manufactured (The American Beatles) and might have made a silly if loveable tv series, but they produced some great songs helped by songwriters like Neil Diamond who wrote this one.

Nesmith went on to a successful solo career and was one of the early pioneers of music video. Talented family, as his mother invented typewriter correction fluid which earned them all a lot of money.

Okay, it's not a song and Tom can sound stilted to the modern ear - he was actually from Missouri - but there is a real music to Eliot's musing on time which perhaps sits well at this time of year. This is the first part of Burnt Norton (1936) the first poem in the Four Quartets (published in 1944). 

Brinsley Schwarz were part of the pub rock scene of the 1970s in the UK, hardly the most glamorous of descriptions, conjuring up images of warm beer on warm afternoons in some dive in South London. However, they proved influential (though not until after they had disbanded) and this song, one of their best, has been covered by various artists including Elvis Costello and Bruce Springsteen.

Clara Schumann (1819-1896) was a prodigious pianist and composer until family life intervened in her mid-thirties. Much of her work was not performed until recently. The title translates as "I stood darkly dreaming".

In July 1954, an unknown nineteen-year-old singer called Elvis Presley went to a local studio in Memphis to record a few songs. This is one of them.

As good as it gets.

Australian by birth, Percy Grainger spent the early years of the 20th Century collecting and, in some cases, arranging traditional English Folk songs. Brigg Fair took place on 5 August every year, in Lincolnshire, and was primarily a place for trading horses. Grainger's arrangment was later adapted for orchestra by Frederick Delius.

You can hear a 1907 version by local singer Joseph Taylor (who was then nearly 75 years old) recorded by Grainger.

There aren't that many songs from the Punk and New Wave era that have lasted, possibly because a lot of the bands couldn't play their instruments which is a bit of a barrier to great songwriting. However, the Only Ones managed it with 'Another Girl, Another Planet', helped by such lines as "Space travels in my blood/There ain't nothing I can do about it/Long journeys wear me out/But I know, I can't live without it."

Time we had some swing and a tinkle of jazz courtesy of Count Basie and the band. 

What's your mood today? Whatever your answer, you'll probably find it somewhere in Erik Satie's Gnossienne.

Nina Simone was singer, songwriter and arranger across a variety of musical styles. But she was also a leading civil rights activist throughout her career and her 1969 song 'To Be Young, Gifted and Black' (lyrics by Weldon Irving) became one of the anthems of the Civil Rights Movement. However, it was the reggae version of the following year (Young, Gifted and Black') by Jamaican duo Bob & Marcia that was the most commercially successful.

A song for Black History Month.

In 1967, when a lot of musicians were, in John Lennon's words, wanting to change the world, The Kinks and songwriter Ray Davies were ploughing a different furrow and singing about a more simple life.

William Byrd was a leading composer of sacred and secular music in the 16th and 17th Centuries. He was also a Catholic at a time when Elizabeth I's heavies were tightening their Protestant grip.

Byrd trod a fine line as his position in the Chapel Royal meant he had to produce work for Anglican (Protestant) services which was not too elaborate (ie. Catholic). Some Anglicans felt he crossed the line and he had his run-ins (and certainly composed overt 'Catholic' music for private performance), but he lived to a ripe and rich old age.

As we approach term, it's time for the great Curtis Mayfield to give us a shot in the arm.

A quiet Bulletin this week so it is appropriate that our song is John Cage's famous/infamous 4' 33''. But of course, it isn't quiet. It is every sound you hear, yours and others, while you listen to 4 minutes and 33 seconds of apparent silence. You can watch a live perfomance here.

Stones drummer Charlie Watts died last week. Charlie said he was a jazz drummer at heart (they all say that don't they) but the obituaries made it clear how important he was to the Stones's sound.

You can Google to see him in action - and exchanging sardonic looks with bassist Bill Wyman while Mick flaunts out front - but here is the band in their pomp, the period from 1968-1972 when they could do no wrong (on record that is) and before the albums started to tread water and the touring money began to pour in.

A special request this week, our first, from Vicky Neale, whose annual pilgramge to the Isle of Skye has been delayed. So in its place, and almost as good as being there yourself, here is Felix Mendelssohn's Hebrides Overture. Written in 1830, it was inspired by his visit to the Hebridean island of Staffa.

Continuing last week's theme, Glaswegian band Belle and Sebastian are named after the Cécile Aubry novel about a boy named Sébastien and his dog Belle. The book was, in turn, made in to a French TV series which was, inevitably, badly dubbed in to English in time for the school holidays in the 1960s.

But enough of that. Back to the band. This is from one of their early EPs and is typical B & S: understated storytelling.