Thanks to some volunteer teaching I’ve been doing for Beijing’s Olympics volunteers I got invited to the rehearsal of the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony. Inside the stadium was at 90,000 capacity for two hours of set piece acts which trumpeted traditional Chinese culture. There was very little reference to Mao or Communism in the two hours of kung fu, drumming and elaborately choreographed dances. In fact the recital of imperial-era poems and songs seemed to me a repudiation of the whole Communist era, which has generally sought to portray the past as a  period of bourgeoise inequality , superstition and excess.

That has not been lost on the leadership in Beijing, who, according to the whispers going around are very annoyed that Communism isn’t more celebrated in the opening ceremonies. Olympic organizers gave the job of directing the ceremonies to film director Zhang Yimou and Steven Spielberg – who pulled out in protest at China’s relations with the Darfur-abusing Sudanese government. Anyone who’s watched Zhang films like Raise the Red Lantern will know he’s someone who celebrates traditional culture and pomp of the ancient Chinese imperial courts.

The stadium is probably the most futuristic of its kind: the silver ‘twigs’ of the Bird’s Nest wrapping around the red hardware like electrons. Landscaping is laboured in the usual Chinese style: plants, trees, grass transplanted from other provinces and pumped with water to bloom in dry Beijing. There’s several original and olde world recreations of traditional Chinese buildings in the Olympic park, which hasn’t yet been opened to the general public. I’m keen to see how all this pristine nature and cute park benches will be maintained once the masses are let in here.

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Read the Cluas Review of 'Fleet Foxes'

White Winter Hymnal (MP3)

Fleet Foxes Official Website

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Episode 5 - One Thing To Do Before You Die - Streaming Video

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A review of the latest Sigur Ros album

Review Snapshot: Sigur Ros do branch out somewhat but in my eyes it's not in a bad way. I've seen some indifferent reviews but I challenge anyone to listen to Ára bátur and not be moved. Get the album, on CD not mp3, stick it on in a darkened room and enjoy.

The Cluas Verdict? 8 out of 10

Full Review:
Sigur Ros, a favourite band of mine for quite some time, captivated me with Ágætis byrjun, lost me somewhat on () and hooked me right back in with Takk... (despite Match Of The Day trying to hijack it!)

Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust is their 5th studio album and, before it even get's played, it has a lot to live up to. Takk... was such a massive album for the band, any subsequent work will find it hard to live up to those expectations. So to hear that the band had enlisted the help of Flood, English producer so named for his tea making prowess, suggests that they might indeed be steering away from the the 8 minute opuses and more towards 4 minute rock songs. Gobbledigook, track number 1, seems to reinforce that theory. With chants and stomping percussion that wouldn't go amiss on most contemporary British indie albums these days you'd be forgiven for thinking you bought the wrong album, except for the Icelandic lyrics of course. In saying that, it is a cracking tune and a perfect foil for those 8 minute wonders. Inní mér syngur vitleysingur, Track 2, takes the same road. This jaunt into accessibility may indeed upset some of their more hardcore fans but, frankly, I'm loving it and by the time you get to Góðan daginn you're in classic Sigur Ros territory. A beautiful song with lush sounds.

The album on the whole is filled with typically beautiful Sigur Ros songs and punctuated by those songs bordering on indie rock. Festival and Ára bátur are two of those 8 minute + wonders that take you on a journey through wonderful soundscapes. Indeed Ára bátur finishes with an immense orchestral and choral crescendo that had yours truly reaching for the Kleenex (to wipe the tears of joy that is).

Part of the charm of Sigur Ros, for me at least, is the incomprehensibility of the lyrics. I'm not a lyrics man, more of a mood man. That is to say when I listen to a song the voice is just another instrument that should sit with the song as a whole to create that mood. So I was a bit taken aback by the final song, All Alright, which is sung in English. As of writing I'm undecided if I like it or not. That indecision is brought about, I think, by the fact that I can understand what Jónsi Birgisson is saying, barely mind you, but I feel that some things in life should remain a mystery. If I understood Icelandic this album could mean something completely different.

Last track aside, I like this album. Sigur Ros do branch out somewhat but not in a bad way. There have been some indifferent reviews but I challenge anyone to listen to Ára bátur and not be moved. Get the album, on CD not mp3, stick it on in a darkened room and enjoy. That's what music is supposed to be about.

Andy Knightley

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A review of Fleet Foxes debut album

Review Snapshot: Fleet Foxes have emerged from the crowded ranks of Seattle’s indie music scene with an uncompromisingly indulgent debut of the same. Glorious vocal harmonies accompanied by rousing, anthemic instrumental pieces combine to result in one of the great records of 2008.

The Cluas Verdict? 8 out of 10

Full Review:
Thus far, 2008 has been a year dominated by a horde of worryingly similar guitar groups, striving to become the next Strokes or Arctic Monkeys. And so, as this flood of mediocrity threatens to engulf us all (I actually listened to a Pigeon Detectives album a while back), the appearance of Fleet Foxes album came as nothing short of a lifesaver.

The album opens with the delightfully simple track, Sun it Rises, a song that speaks of the impending rising sun. Not really Bob Dylan lyrics here, or at all in the album. In fact, the subjects of the songs are so simplistic and inconsequential that they appear to act as hangers for the vocal harmonies, which are the most remarkable aspect of what Fleet Foxes do. There is even a point in the album where they disregard lyrics altogether. On the track Heard them Stirring, there are just vocal harmonies of nonsense sung over endearing guitar riffs.

After Sun it Rises, the album launches straight into the majestic White Winter Hymnal. It is at this point that the listener realises that Fleet Foxes possess something unique and special that sets them apart. The song is comprised of a litany of “I was following the, I was following the” and so on, by front man Robin Pecknold, over energetic acoustic strumming.

There is no real stand out track on this album. That may sound like a bad thing, but it is actually the strength of the record. They are all of a similarly high quality. Each song rolls into the next with flawless fluidity. It is essentially an eleven-track journey that enthralls the listener in this surreal world of nature and aesthetics, as a good Mercury Rev album does. After a couple of listens I felt at one with nature. Had I lived near I field I might have ran through it and danced with badgers and the like. But I didn’t live near a field, so instead I just listened to the album again.

Fleet foxes' debut is at times slow burning, but never dull. It is filled with sentiment, but never consumed by it. One slight criticism is the similarity in the voice of Robin Pecknold to that of My Morning Jackets Jim James. However the music could not be more different and consequently Fleet Foxes maintain their originality.

If you were attempting to try and assign Fleet Foxes to one particular genre, you might be torn between country and alternative rock. It is likely that Fleet Foxes have amassed inspiration from a variety of musical sources and have subsequently set up their own stall with this album.

One of the truly special moments of what is generally a special album occurs about two and a half minutes into Blue Ridge Mountains. Pecknold thrusts into a mesmerising chorus which goes “in the quivering forest, where the shivering dog rests, I will do it grandfather, wilt to wood and end”. I have no idea what it means, but I like it.

Oliver James is the final song on the album and it has the effect of winding down what has been an enjoyable little trip. It is basic acoustic guitar picking in the background to the vocals of Pecknold. In the end, the guitar is rendered unnecessary and the album is completed by a lone voice singing, “Oliver James washed in the rain, no longer”, a couple of times and then its all over. But more then likely you will just put it back to track one and start again.

Fleet Foxes have announced themselves in fine fashion with this debut album. It just goes to show that on occasion, wouldn’t it be better to concentrate on making really nice song, instead of searching for lyrical perfection and letting the melody suffer in the process? Why not just sing melodically over some fine music and make an album about meadowlarks and mountains? Just a thought.

Kevin Boyle

More ...

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If there's one company to watch in Asia's music scene it could be Taihe Rye. Flush with venture capital and a massive recent investment from SK Telecom, which bought 42% of the company, TaiHe beat local and interational competition to signing Li Yuchun, a sensation in China when she won the Super Girl reality show in 2006.

I had an interesting visit recently with Zhan Hua, vice president of this most commercially successful of Chinese labels. You can tell that from the company’s office: rather than an apartment-cum-office on the 13^th floor of a western suburb apartment block - the kind of place I've become used to going to find local labels - Tai He Rye's 90-strong staff has very nice digs. Staffers sit out onto a pavilion to smoke and shoot the breeze.Soothed by the green lawn and a bubbling brook, Tai He Rye’s top brass do their deals on mobile phones.

The jeep Cherokee parked rudely right in front of the door – and a stack of fan mail, with kids effort and writing, suggest a label with stars. Tai He called in a British songwriting crew to produce and write English songs for Li, “to get her an international presence,” and repackaged her as a girl-next-door looking starlet called Cris Lee.

The label wants more collaborations with foreign counterparts but is worried that English songs won't translate well to Chinese. I'll write a longer article later about my couple of hours on Taihe's giant purple executive couch in the office near Sihui subway stop but the key thoughts I took away from this interview was that multinational labels haven't got it made in China: Tai He beat its former partner Warner to Li YuChun and with SK's money the company will

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It seems strange to have you next door neighbours described as 'vigilantes'. But that's one of many cheap, and often unresearched shots, taken by western media on arrival in Beijing to cover the Olympic Games. Official corruption, abuse of migrant workers and the questionable air quality - not to mind the appalling tastelessness of the local nouveau riche are all fair targets for reportage. But some of the reports I've read over the weekend are just plain lazy cliches. The vigilantes reference - in the Economist, which I didn't expect - was a bit over the top, considering those the term describes are invariably local retirees running neighbourhood watch schemes. True, in the past their role often had more sinister, Stasi-like overtones and duties but I'm too used to being hooted at, and seeing these old folks being hooted at, by wealthy Chinese trying to get by in their new Ford/Mercedes/BMW to think these people are seen as any threat anymore. Too much of the coverage concentrates on easy targets - the vigilantes and the trying-ever-so-hard locals who are trying to quit spitting and queue jumping for the duration of the Games. I'd like to read more about how and why the people driving SUVs around town, those so devoid of good taste or common courtesies, appear to be running and owning modern China. How they got their wealth is a far more interesting story.

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Peter Delaney @ MySpace.com

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A website I helped design and regularly update, beijinggaa.org, homepage of the Beijing Gaelic Football club, is no longer available to Internet browsers in China. Browsers in Beijing trying to get onto the site, which can be accessed via a proxy server,  get a blank screen with the words: "Problem Loading Page" and "the server has timed out." Even though China has pledged freedom of the Internet during the Olympics many sites remain off limits - but most are shut because they carry content deemed politicallly sensitive or pornographic. So where does a humble Gaelic football site fit in to this? Perhaps the country's huge security operatus, working overtime in the run up to the Olympics, have spotted the .org site url and confused Irish community with a human rights-campaigning NGO.  I just hope it comes back up in time for the new Beijing GAA season. The club is currently training for the Asia Games, in Malaysia in October.

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I was happy to get an email this week from Ionad, a Dublin-based voluntary organisation promoting the Irish language - through Chinese. Ionad has just posted some videos on their site which allows Chinese people to learn some useful Irish phrases. Considering China's 1.3 billion population - 300 million of whom are online - I'd say Ionad ought to be getting some hits in the East.

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