6 — Friday, September 22, 2017
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
ACROSS
1 Hubbub
5 Thompson of
“Westworld”
10 One way to
lean
14 Stephen
Hawking subject
15 Tough tests of
knowledge
16 Offer the same
opinion as
17 Princess Royal of
Britain
18 -, at times
19 Reclined
20 Setup provider’s
abbr.
21 Hogwarts
chronicler
imitating noisy
dogs?
23 Like many deli
orders
25 Western peer of
Tex and Gene
26 Devices that
record data on
noisy dogs?
32 Part of XL: Abbr.
33 Toon cat since
the silent era
34 Reacts to bad
news, perhaps
37 War-torn land
39 More rational
41 All in
42 St. Anthony’s
home
44 It’s not exactly a
pick-me-up
46 Airport approx.
47 Photographer of
noisy dogs?
50 Disney Store
collectible
51 Semi bar
52 Paintings
depicting noisy
dogs?
58 First name in folk
61 Choppers
62 Stop by
63 Printer function
64 News article intro
65 Gradually
weaken
66 It can be hard to
get out of
67 It can be hard to
get out
68 Call attention (to)
69 Bellicose god
DOWN
1 Attempt
2 Like a mite
3 “Give me a few
minutes”
4 Adidas subsidiary
5 He beat out
Sonny & Cher
and Herman’s
Hermits, among
others, for the
Best New Artist
Grammy
6 Christine’s
phantom admirer
7 Emulated 5-Down
8 Nasty comment
9 Categorize
10 Source of much
canine delight
11 Nutritious berry
12 Gym exercise
13 Giant film primate
22 Burdens
24 Desktop animation
image suffix
26 Control tower
signal
27 Indian shrine site
28 Forest clearing
29 Member of the
underground
economy?
30 CFOs, e.g.
31 Orient Express
feature
35 Shakespeare’s
shrew
36 Vega, for one
38 Cement type for
home repairs
40 Pursued
vigorously
43 Homo sapiens
relatives
45 63-Across
alternative
48 Small wading
bird
49 State of matter
52 Constitutional
53 Strong farm team
54 Overhaul
55 Gift from
Prometheus
56 Beginning
57 Play polo, say
59 Relax
60 Word that can
replace “your”
By Jeffrey Wechsler
©2017 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
09/22/17
09/22/17
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
RELEASE DATE– Friday, September 22, 2017
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
xwordeditor@aol.com
J
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ARTS & CRAFTS
MERCURY
Overcoats charm the Pig
I lived in a boring town this
summer. I won’t tire you with
the frivolous details of how
I ended up there, since that
story alone would probably fill
a whole page of print. During
my first weekend I sat on my
bed in my admittedly lovely
apartment (note: boring-town
real estate is a lot cheaper
than college town real estate)
panicking over how I was
wasting away my last summer
before real-life and formal
adulthood began.
In that sitting, I bought
a ticket to a music festival
that was happening the next
weekend in Toronto — the
nearest
major
metropolitan
area.
Despite
my
strong
persuasive abilities, I wasn’t
able to convince any of my
friends to make the same
whim purchase, so I went by
myself. Being alone, I got to
experience the festival on my
own terms, starting out by
sitting far up the lawn at one
stage and letting the music be
background to my thoughts.
One set ended, leading into
a
30-minute
break.
Then
two 20-something year-old
women appeared on stage,
wearing oversized suit jackets,
wide-leg palazzo pants and
sunglasses that covered half
their faces. A quick glance at
the lineup identified them
as New York City-based duo,
Overcoats.
The
visuals
alone
were
enough to get me on my feet
and walking up as close as I
could to the stage. From that
moment all the way to the
last chord, I stopped thinking
about my present dilemmas.
I was distracted by the chills
that
pulsed
through
my
bloodstream with each song
of minimalist-beat-backed pop
and stunning harmonies. I
shudder when I try to imagine
a world where these voices
never met. I added their debut
album Young to my Apple
Music account immediately
after they bid farewell.
Fast-forward three months
and I’m at another Overcoats
show. This time it’s at Ann
Arbor’s The Blind Pig. This
time I walk in with the weight
of a new semester and the
daunting pressure of trying to
figure out what I want to do
with my life after graduation.
And very much like the first
time I saw them, my worries
didn’t make it past the first
song.
There
were
ample
differences between the two
shows, as there should be
when playing a small bar in the
evening rather than an outdoor
stage in broad daylight. They
ditched
the
costumes
for
everyday
streetwear
and
adopted a lax “talking to
friends” tone rather than the
“talking to a crowd” persona.
In essence that’s exactly
what
the
show
felt
like:
Hanging out with friends.
They chatted back and forth
between songs, talking to each
other and talking to the crowd.
If it weren’t for their perfect
harmonies
and
polished
instrumentals, I would have
wondered if I was watching the
rehearsal or the actual show;
it all seemed so effortless and
genuine.
My favorite parts of any
show were the moments that
feel unique to that night.
Artists are constantly on the
move; they tour the same set
day after day, so in theory you
could have the same concert
experience you had one night
in a different state the next
week. Except that’s not how
it actually works. Every night
has it’s own moments that are
a product of the time and place
and all of the people present.
The
number
of
these
intimate moments throughout
the course of the Overcoats
show was astounding. There
was a “Go Blue” vs. “Go Green”
battle
and
an
impression
of a blind pig. Before the
encore
they
took
multiple
laps around the venue, high-
fiving the audience. They kept
encouraging people to dance,
going as far as to ask where
they should go dancing after
the show (“Rick’s!”). The night
was singular.
Perhaps best of all was the
debut of a new song, “If You
Leave.” Amid the standard
setlist (which was the entirety
of Young and a cover of
Hozier’s “Cherry Wine”), the
duo
nervously
announced
that they were about to grace
us
with
something
brand
new.
Successfully
resisting
the urge to record, I’m only
left with my memories of this
initial listen. That single listen
revealed
another
track
of
gorgeous harmonies and the
same electropop rock vibes
that drew me to them that day
in Toronto.
Still, the song itself wasn’t
the best part, but rather the
atmosphere that the new track
created.
Everything
from
the nervous onstage chatter
that preempted the song to
the
unwavering
audience
concentration throughout the
duration to the largest ovation
of the night at the end aided in
creating the most memorable
moment of the night.
Inevitably,
my
worries
returned the next morning
(they aren’t miracle-workers
after all). Still, their ability to
create a stress free atmosphere
in the center of a high-pressure
college town is a testament to
their incredible performing
talent. I can only hope that as
Overcoats
gain
recognition
for their excellent music and
begin to play larger venues
that this aura continues.
JESS ZEISLOFT
Daily Arts Writer
There are certain pop songs
from the sixties that everybody
still knows, and for good reason.
“River Deep — Mountain High,”
by Ike & Tina Turner, is one
of the decade’s most enduring
songs, and The Ronettes’ “Be
My Baby” has been consistently
credited as one of the most
important pop songs of all time.
Of course, in the late fifties
and early sixties, it was still
relatively uncommon for artists
to write most of their own hit
songs. These songs are widely
recognized for their catchy
melodies and high production
values,
and
they’re
all
by
different groups: The Crystals,
The Shangri-Las, The Chiffons.
Interestingly
enough,
though, many of them were
written and/or produced by the
same couple of people. “River
Deep — Mountain High,” “Be
My Baby” and several other pop
songs from the sixties, such as
The Dixie Cups’s “Chapel of
Love” and The Crystals’s “Then
He Kissed Me,” all partially
resulted
from
collaborations
between Ellie Greenwich and
Jeff Barry.
Greenwich started writing
songs as a teenager in New
York and recorded some of her
own songs in her early college
years, shortly before she met
Barry. After the two began
dating,
Greenwich
traveled
independently to New York
City’s Brill Building, a long-
established landmark in the
music industry, where she met
Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller.
It was here that she began
collaborating
with
various
partners as a songwriter and
session
singer,
while
Barry
was working with others to
write songs of his own. Only
after establishing themselves
separately in the world of
songwriting did Greenwich and
Barry join forces, which opened
the doors for songs like The
Ronettes’ “Baby, I Love You,”
and The Crystals’ “Da Doo Ron
Ron.”
Of course, the ‘60s was a time
period when many musicians’
hits came from songs they
hadn’t
written
themselves,
whether
these
were
songs
written for them by outsourced
songwriters, like Greenwich and
Barry, or simply covers of work
by other bands. For instance,
“Then He Kissed Me” was
reworked into “Then I Kissed
Her” for The Beach Boys, and
The Shangri-Las’ “Leader of the
Pack” (also by Greenwich and
Barry) was redone as “Leader of
the Laundromat” for (if you can
believe it) The Detergents.
This issue — the matter of
song artistry — is an expansive
one that remains many-sided.
Although far less standardized
now than it was fifty years ago,
it is still common practice for
artists to have others write
their songs for them. This is
particularly
true
with
big-
name artists who can afford to
bring other songwriters onto
their albums. When the issue
is brought up, however, it’s
less often to bring recognition
to the songwriters and more
to critiquing the musicians
themselves,
arguments
generally along the lines of,
“They don’t write their own
songs, so they can’t be as
artistically genuine.”
Despite this criticism, the
end result is for the most part
the same now as it was in the
1960s. The songs remain famous
and popular, as they should,
and the people who wrote them
remain largely obscure.
The matter of what song
authorship
says
about
a
musician artistically is entirely
subjective.
Personally,
I
believe that a song is “made”
both by its writing and by its
performance, each of which
takes a different type of talent.
If a song really resonates with
a certain audience, then the
artist or group who performed
it should be recognized for that.
However, the people who put
the song together and compose
it ought to be recognized as
well. My purpose here is not to
undercut those musicians who
don’t write their own music, but
rather to try to elevate some of
the people who do write it.
Greenwich and Barry worked
together for a lot of the 1960s,
putting together songs for Lesley
Gore, Darlene Love and a host of
other artists. Toward the end of
their partnership, Greenwich
discovered Neil Diamond, who
went on to become one of the
most successful musicians of
the century. Neither Greenwich
nor Barry are really household
names, but their behind-the-
scenes
work
in
the
music
industry has led directly to
the success of several songs
and artists whose work is still
beloved to this day. They may
not have been famous singers
or instrumentalists themselves,
but the songs that they wrote
and produced helped to define
the pop sounds of the 1960s,
which has made our musical
history that much richer all on
its own.w
LAURA DZUBAY
Daily Arts Writer
Songwriting and artistry
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