Pink Martini
This unusually named band is twenty years old this year, and I am sorry that I discovered them only recently. (In an earlier ukulele test post — KALA KA-S — I strum along to one of their best-known songs.) The group was founded in 1994 by a rather over-animated pianist, and they have been performing continuously ever since, releasing several albums and becoming very popular, especially in the United States. The ukulele has an important role on their latest album: it appears not only on the cover, but in several excellent tracks too.
If “The von Trapps” means nothing to you, definitely watch the The Sound of Music from 1965, a film — or musical. If I understand correctly, the members of The von Trapps really are descendants of the von Trapp family. But that is not the point; back to Pink Martini. The first song of theirs I heard was Veronique:
I was blown away. Even the album title is charming — Hang On Little Tomato — but this song is the absolute height of musical subtlety. Relatively few instruments are playing, yet no more are needed. Those few occupy your attention completely; there is no empty space that makes you think “something is still missing”. Nothing is missing from this song. It enchants from the first moment. Listen carefully to the musical turn at the end of each verse: it keeps the song moving because, where the singer stretches out “Veee-roooo-niiiiique”, we do not arrive on the closing major chord our ear expects, but somewhere else. You hear it, right? We expect resolution and do not get it. The vocal melody, which until then uses only a small set of notes, suddenly expands through an unexpected turn: no one expects “don't leave me, my darling” to take larger steps and abruptly lead the melody down into the basement before it immediately jumps back to its familiar register. One could go on analysing the wealth of musical ideas and brilliance in this song. After I first listened to it all the way through, my hand became stuck to the play button and I heard it perhaps ten or fifteen times in a row. Then I decided it was time to explore Pink Martini more deeply.
After listening to many of their songs, I formed the following general opinion of Pink Martini's music. What they play is called Music. With a capital M. Their songs contain everything I look for in music: ideas, imagination, subtlety, rich arrangements, memorable melodies and pieces you can love on first hearing. I am not saying every track works for me — there are songs I immediately skip — but they have at least twenty-five or thirty that I love without reservation and can listen to endlessly. For me, at least, it is very unusual to like that many songs by one band. Lyrics are not especially important to me — if the music is poor, I do not care how “great the lyrics” may be — yet it deserves real admiration that Pink Martini sing not only in their default English but in French, Japanese, Italian, Arabic (!) and other languages, creating an unusually colourful world in the words as well. One of their most popular songs is Sympathique, from the album of the same name:
The band has a large catalogue of original songs, but they have also covered many popular pieces; their latest album itself takes its title, Dream a Little Dream, from a cover. Their songs are extremely varied. If you listen to a lot of Pink Martini you learn to recognise their stylistic traits, yet you could never say every track sounds the same (although naturally some are similar). They assemble the instruments in each arrangement with great care and imagination, drawing from an exceptionally broad palette: entire ranges of wind, string and percussion instruments appear, and several songs feature the harp, an instrument that has almost disappeared from contemporary popular music. I am certain they also use instruments that an ordinary mortal would not recognise by sound, could not name on sight and, even after picking one up, would have no idea whether to blow, press, strike or pluck it.
And to finish the post with a little wickedness: why did I describe the pianist who founded the band as “rather over-animated” in the introduction? Watch a Pink Martini concert recording and pay attention to him. Apart from playing brilliantly, he surrounds his piano playing with enormous, theatrical movements that are entirely unnecessary. His hands suddenly fly into the air and he makes exaggerated gestures. It is hard to understand why, because their music is perfectly enjoyable without it, and the mannered acting comes across as more off-putting than attractive. Still, I think it can be forgiven: they have given all of us an extraordinarily rich musical treasure.
