[springtime in new york]

It's spring, and a lovely one. The weather is delightful. There are cherry blossoms on the trees (well, the cherry trees), and whole streets are paved in petals. The magnolias too are in bloom, and the dogwoods, and the tulips are getting slightly obscene. 

My life here continues apace. All is well at Google — I've had my first guest come in to ooh and ah at the wonders of my Googley life, and if you're nearby, you're more than welcome to swing by sometime for a free dinnner on Uncle Google. And this weekend I'm finally going back to the All-Night Concert of Indian Classical Music, an annual event held at St. John the Divine's Synod Hall. I went once years ago, discovered a love for the bansuri, India's wooden flute, and left at around 5 a.m., by which time I was seeing spots. I was younger then, too. We'll see how far I get this time. One advantage is that I won't be on my own (at least for the first few hours), as a Punjabi friend of mine will be joining me. And she may even know something about the music, which would be a welcome improvement over my admittedly blissful ignorance.

See you on the other side!

[goin' to chicago]

Baby Are Yeng by Nancy Jacobs and Her Sisters
Chicago by Sufjan Stevens (Illinois)

Today is Jenny's first day at her new consulting gig in downtown Chicago, where she will be spending three to four days a week for the rest of the year and possibly beyond.

I know next to nothing about Chicago. I have only been there once, for an evening, and spent it in a depressingly cheesy jazz club. I know they have deep-dish pizza, that the Blues Brothers and Ferris Bueler lived there, that it once burned to the ground long ago, that it was a magnet for the westward migration of Polish and German and Irish and Italian immigrants and a magnet for the northward migration of African-Americans. Martin Luther King, Jr., did poorly there. The buildings downtown were steam-cleaned in the eighties for the filming of The Untouchables. Chicago blues is an electric variety that helped create rock and roll and that has a dangerous tendency to fall into wanky self-parody. Chicago is America's second city, and the moniker "Windy City" comes from a reference to its politicians, not its weather.

And that's about it. Trivia, really. None of the living feel of the place. You could drop me in the middle of Jaipur or Seoul without a map and I could find my way, but I'd be hopeless in Chicago.

But like most great cities, Chicago is also a city of the mind, a target of the imagination. In "Baby are Yeng," Nancy Jacobs and Her Sisters (about whom I could find basically no information) give South African bounce to the very African-American yearning to leave the Jim Crow South behind for better odds in the big city, in what has to be one of the catchiest tunes ever. (Via the inimitable Locust St.) And in "Chicago," Sufjan Stevens manages to invoke both that city and New York in a story that I don't understand, but that moves me anyway.

Jenny, I'll miss you when you're far away. Have fun!

[going bananas for k-pop]

Humming Urban Stereo: Banana Shake (YouTube)

Spooky Banana: Mr. Firefighter (YouTube)

Humming Urban Stereo is DJ Jeereen, a Korean who seems to be among the first of his countrymen to grasp the poker-faced kitsch approach to pop music that makes certain Japanese bands so hip. "Banana Shake" is a ridiculously charming ditty that seems to be about exactly what you'd think. You can find more Hus music at their MySpace page and at this fan MySpace page, and you can read a bio at KBS World.

"Mr. Firefighter" is a rare glimmer of hope for the continued existence of one of our favorite Korean bands, Spooky Banana, whose CD we picked up in a cool record store on Daehagno (College Street) in Seoul based entirely on how much we dug the name of the band. Apparently the song has found its way onto a recent arcade release of the video game Pump It Up, which is a Korean knock-off of Dance Dance Revolution.

[cradle music]

Pinball Number Count (YouTube)
The Pointer Sisters
Songs from the Street: 35 Years of Music

1-20 Raga (YouTube)
Sesame Street

Sing it to anyone who grew up in America who grew up in the 1970s and their eyes light up: "One-two-three-FOUR-five, six-seven-eight-NINE-ten, eleven-twelve!" This gem of a segment is quite possibly the funkiest music ever produced for children — funkier even than Roosevelt Franklin, that now-bizarre Muppetary exemplar of Black Power — and it has stuck with us through all these years, lodged firmly in our imaginations. (Click here and here to see examples of the shorter original segments.)

It wasn't just the music, of course. Those animations are seriously groovy. But the music was key. And those solo sections aren't exactly easy listening, either. Sesame Street was training our ears for the sophisticated sounds of post-Bitches Brew electro-jazz.

Less widely remembered is the "1-20 Raga," a nugget of sitar-driven psychedelia that may well have been my first exposure to South Asian culture. Whether the pungent atmosphere of Marin County in those days contributed to my particular appreciation of this clip is an open question, but certainly it stayed with me. In fact, it's the Indian bits that remained in my memory all these years — the sitar, the morphing Mughal patterns; I had forgotten the insipid vocal and the number-factory setting.

Sesame Street was and remains an extraordinary tool for reaching out to the very young with challenging material. As music classes are cut across America, it may be one of the last places capable of reaching little kids with sophisticated music.

Bonus for Jenny: How Crayons Are Made (YouTube)

[holiday greetings]

Silent Night | The Baby Jesus | Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer | Noël | Little Drummer Boy | Jingle Bells | White Christmas | Santa Claus Is Coming to Town | Love Is | The Three Wise Men by 슬기둥 (Sulgidoong) (캐롤집 [Carol House]) (Via Music from Korea)

Happy Yule! The actual solstice will take place at 7:22 pm this evening.

Happy Chanukah! Tonight we will light seven candles, and tomorrow night will be the full eight (in both cases not counting the shamash, which is used to light and stand guard over the other candles).

And a few days early, a Merry Christmas! We'll be spending ours with Jenny's niece Emily, some aunts we don't know, and a pot roast. We do not expect the pot roast to survive.

Today's musical selection is an unusual twist on the old (and not-so-old) Christmas carols. Seulgidoong is, according to the only information I could find, "a leading modern chamber ensemble devoted to popularization of traditional music by modernizing it. Its 9 members have given distinguished performances of their unique music. They combine traditional music and new world of music in a unique way to create an original repertoire." Sure. I'm not convinced it's genius or anything, but hey, how many times have you heard "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" played on gayageum and geomungo?

[live]

I Would Never Wanna Be Young Again | Not a Crime | 60 Revolutions (YouTube Videos) by Gogol Bordello (Gypsy Punk World Strike)

When I was younger, rock concerts were major events in my life. I would find out about a show through a listing in BAM or the Guardian, buy my tickets early and let the anticipation build over weeks or even months. Against the backdrop of tedious mediocrity that was high school, an upcoming concert was a glowing beacon, a reminder that there was a grander, funkier, freakier world out there and that I could access it if I wanted to. Going to these concerts, I knew I was a part of something larger than myself. And back in high school afterwards, I would be sustained by the secret knowledge I'd gained at the Stone or the Omni or the Phoenix Theatre, seeing Primus or Soundgarden or Fungo Mungo: I am not like the rest of you. This is not my whole world.

Once I had a car, concerts became less of a big deal to get to, and consequently less of a big deal. What had once been a breakthrough to an ecstatic new world was now a mostly enjoyable but fairly regular amusement. Once I moved to New York in '93, concerts became even less meaningful. Try as I might, I failed to find any scene in New York that could stand up to the multi-ethnic, genre-muddling loopiness of the Bay Area. Where bands back home wore wild costumes and leaped around like lunatics, the East Coast scene seemed to require that bands dress badly and stand around looking bored.

Concerts still involved painful noise, crowds, cigarette smoke, long lines, overpriced tickets, late nights, sweat, bad drinks and horrendous opening acts, but the payoff was less. I no longer needed rock concerts to help me locate myself in the world or feel cool.

I've been to plenty of concerts in the years since then by artists I really like, but it's rare that I've felt that old sense of anticipation. Today, though, it's back. Tonight, I'm going to see Gogol Bordello at Irving Plaza, and I feel the giddy thrill of adventure in store. Check out the live clips and you'll see why.

Bonus: Not a Crime (Video)

[the spirit of clumping]

Katamari Damacy is a surreal Japanese video game whose name means "the spirit of clumping," or more simply, "clump spirit." The goal of the game and the mode of play are fairly simple but different from anything else I've ever played: you roll a ball (the katamari) around various environments, picking up all kinds of objects as you go — paper clips, people, elephants, chopsticks. As you collect objects, the katamari grows, allowing you to pick up ever bigger items. (You can see what this actually looks like here.) The game is presided over by a king whose speaking voice is record scratching and who either praises your success or shoots lasers out of his eyes when you fail. (He also has great legs and a psychedelic cylindrical pillow permanently lodged behind his head.)

What makes the game so compelling is the elaborate, creative, surreal universe in which you operate — not to mention its zany, sometimes dark humor — and part of that effect is achieved by the music, which consists of thoroughly loopy J-pop and a pair pieces for full orchestra, recorded with appropriate theatrical bombast.

I wish I could tell you who the artists are, but I can't find that information anywhere. Still, you can buy the soundtrack at YesAsia.com.

01. Introduction
02. Katamari on the Rocks
03. Overture II
04. Katamari on the Swing
05. Kurukuru Rock
06. Everlasting Love
07. Tsuyogari Katamari
08. Beautiful Star
09. Heaven's Rain
10. Houston
11. Blue Orb
12. Katamari Holiday
13. Baby Universe
14. Disco x Prince
15. Killing Hot Savannah
16. The Royal Academy of Katamari
17. King of Kings' Song
18. Untitled

Thanks to DKNY for the link, and for introducing me to the game.

[anjalic]

Mistress of Disguise | Seven X Eight | Feline Woman by Anjali

Twelve long years have passed since Portishead first unleashed Dummy upon an unsuspecting world, tapping into a deep, hitherto unnoticed craving for ethereal female vocals over moody, noir-tinged tracks with sophisticated electronic production and hip-hop beats. Eight years after Portishead's final album, the revelatory PNYC Live, where can one turn to satisfy this peculiar, overly specific jones?

Well, if you're willing to forgo the extraordinary Portishead scratching in favor of some sitar and don't mind your spy movie music taking on an Austin Powers vibe, I suggest you give Anjali a try.

Formerly the drummer in UK Riot Grrl band the Voodoo Queens, Anjali Bhatia now claims descent from the Bhatti line of maharajas of Jaisalmer. Whether that's true or not, her music has ventured as far from Riot Grrl radicalism as her identity. One can hear traces not only of UK trip-hop, but also of Cibo Matto and other late-nineties electronic experimenters, not to mention heavy doses of Anglo-Indian fusion, tinged with old-fashioned Bollywood goodness.

Find more MP3s at Bazaar Sounds, Anjali's Beggar's Banquet Site, and her personal web page.

[because his pants say "m"]

At very long last, I think I've found an online copy of the video for "Muomnika?" ("뭡니까?") by Shim Tae-yoon (심태윤) that can actually be watched by people without the South Korean citizen ID number required to log in to many Korean sites.

Go here and click on the image of the guy with the afro who's saluting.

Once you've installed all the various ActiveX controls, you should see an unattractive man chatting amiably in a language you don't understand. Be patient. He babbles for a minute or two, but then comes the video. It's not exactly genius or anything, but it's a helluva catchy tune, and Shim's goofy little dance, silly afro and M-pants are what it's really all about. That and the Korean raggamuffin rapper with the fur gloves.

Oh, and just so you know, the name of the song means "What is it?"

[mtv-k is here]

Some time back, I told you about MTV Desi and MTV Chi, for the South Asian-American and Chinese-American markets respectively, and I mentioned that MTV-K was in the works.

MTV-K is now here.

And, as with the other two stations, I have helpfully done the work of combing through the top-ten candidate videos, weeding out the weepy piano ballads, the overblown hip-hop extravaganzas and the talentless girl bands who mostly shake their tiny, tiny booties, and leaving you with only the gems (or at least the bearable videos).

NB that this is an IE-only exercise, and that I can't link directly to the videos, so you just have to go to the site and click on them yourself.

Big Mama have gotten a lot of attention for being overweight, ordinary-looking women with great voices in a country whose music industry has tended to reward beauty over talent. "Break Away" was their breakthrough single.

Bobby Kim has a pleasant enough voice, and "Falling in Love" is a pleasant enough song, with a pleasant enough video. Get the idea? Perfectly pleasant. Not bad. Not great, but nice. The sort of song that you would let date your daughter but not marry her.

Far East Movement is a SoCal hip-hop trio, of whom two members are Korean and one is Japanese and Chinese. They apparently did a song for Fast and Furious II: Tokyo Drift, which I somehow managed not to see. "Holla Hey" is good silly fun.

If you love Shakira's rock numbers, you'll like Jaurim's "Fan Yi Ya." Enjoy a video of an English version at their MySpace site.

"Obvious (Want You)" is a nice little punk dis from a girl who can play bass. Check out Maggie Kim's website for her cover of "Raspberry Beret."

And there you have it. Enjoy.

[still more of that damn korean song]

아름다음 강산 (Beautiful Rivers and Mountains) by Lee Sun Hee (이선희)

Note: To view the videos, click on the links next to the light-blue words on the left, in the third section down from the top. Especially worthwhile is the third such link (이선희 - 아름다운 강산, 아카라카치, for those who read Korean or like to sqint) You will need to install an ActiveX control, and if you're using Firefox, you'll need to restart afterwards. IE is a better bet. Sorry it's so much trouble!

Okay, you're probably sick to death of hearing about "Beautiful Rivers and Mountains" by now, but here are three versions by the sexiest Korean woman ever, Lee Sung Hee, who has become something of a feminist hero simply for looking like an actual human being, with glasses and human hair, instead of like your typical K-pop starlets, who are all rail-thin and have fake hair. (I suppose it's no surprise that prefer the nerdy girl in glasses with the powerhouse talent underneath to the vacuous beauty queens.)

Of particular interest is the third link in the list, in which Lee performs for a World Cup crowd in 2002. It's kind of amazing to see this song, once regarded as a subversive attack on the state, performed as the centerpiece of a gigantic nationalist pageant. But then, it was also weird seeing thousands upon thousands of South Koreans urging each other to "Be the Reds." As I have said before, a sense of irony is not Korea's strong suit.

[more on shin jung-hyeon]

아름다음 강산 (Beautiful Rivers and Mountains) by 신중현 (Shin Jung-hyeon/Shin Jung-hyun) (Love, Peace & Poetry: Asian Psychedelic Music)

I have a bit more to share about Shin Jung-hyeon (신정현), the Korean singer I mentioned yesterday.

First of all, I think a better translation of the title is the more literal "Beautiful Rivers and Mountains." In fact, with Young's help, I translated the lyrics — she did a rough translation, then I went through and tried to make it into more coherent poetry, spending a lot of time flipping through my Korean-English dictionary to look at secondary meanings of words. But we'll get to the translation in a moment.

The story of the song is also interesting. It came about when Park Chung Hee (박정희), the longtime military dictator of South Korea, asked Shin Jung-hyeon to write a song in praise of the Blue House, the official residence of South Korea's president — the equivalent of a sitting U.S. president requesting a song in praise of the White House. Shin refused, which is not something to which dictators take kindly. Not long afterwards, he released "Beautiful Rivers and Mountains":

Beautiful Rivers and Mountains

Blue sky
White clouds
A thread of wind rises
To fill my heart

Blue-green leaves
Blue-green river
In this beautiful place
You're here and I'm here

Hold my hand, let's go and see, run and see that wilderness
Let's come together and speak of our new dreams

Blue sky
White clouds
A thread of wind rises
To fill my heart

Into this world
We were born
This beautiful place
This proud place
We will live

The brilliant red sun
Glitters on the white waves
Together they overflow the ocean
How good it is to live here!

I will love you with the song I sing

Today I'll go to meet you and we'll talk
Time will pass
We will live together, then fade and fall

In this everlasting place
I hunger to create
Our new dream

Spring and summer go,
Fall and winter come
Beautiful rivers and mountains!

Your heart, my heart
Your heart, my heart
Yours and mine are one heart
You and me
Us
Forever
Forever
Our love is eternal, eternal
We are all, all in endless harmony

Now, somehow President Park got it in his head that this song was a political snub, and he probably wasn't entirely wrong. According to what Young has been able to dig up in various Korean blogs and in an interview with Shin himself, the trouble began when he and his group, The Men, performed the song live on television. Shin had shaved his head for the performance, and the backing group had put up their long hair with traditional women's hairpins, all of which was considered outrageous at the time. Park's wife saw the performance and was deeply insulted. The insult was compounded when Shin gave the song to Kim Jeong-mi (김정미), who had a reputation as a twepyejeon (퇴폐적), or decadent, and recorded the song in an exaggeratedly breathy, sexy style.

But what really did Shin in was a conviction for dealing marijuana. According to a recent interview, he played a gig at one of Korea's biggest theaters, and the many Western hippies on hand — apparently some of the hippie vagabonds on the Asian trail made it all the way to the Hermit Kingdom — gave him so much marijuana that he ended up supplying the whole Korean rock scene for a while, though never indulging himself. (This is what the man says, anyway.) Once he was busted, the authorities had every excuse to ban Shin from performing and to ban a number of his songs from being played on the radio. Still, he remained an important pop composer, and his songs were often major hits recorded by Korea's biggest stars.

The ban was finally lifted in the 1980s, when Shin began recording and performing again. In 1997, there was a major tribute concert and a renewed interest in Shin's career, and he is now widely respected as one of the most influential Korean pop artists of all time.

[korean psychedelia]

아마 늦은 여름이었을 거야 (It Was Probably Late Summer) by 산울림 (Sanullim/Sanulrim) (Love, Peace & Poetry: Asian Psychedelic Music)

아름다음 강산 (Beautiful Landscape) by 신중현 (Shin Jung-hyeon/Shin Jung-hyun) (Love, Peace & Poetry: Asian Psychedelic Music)

Yesterday, in a thrift store in Park Slope, I stumbled upon a fascinating artifact of the roots of Korean pop culture: a compilation called Love, Peace & Poetry: Asian Psychedelic Music, which includes two Korean psychedelic rock songs from the 1970s. The CD is part of a series of psychedelic rock compilations from all over the world. On this volume, curator Stan Denski has also turned up tracks from Japan, Cambodia, Turkey, China and Singapore.

Today I showed my new CD to my colleague Young and was surprised to find that she recognized both Korean artists. Sanullim is a trio whose name means "mountain echo." They're well known as one of the founders of Korean rock, and this song is from their 1977 debut. When I then showed the CD to Counsellor Yoon, a music buff whose office is across the hall from mine, he immediately began humming "It Was Probably Late Summer" and told me he and his friends had seen Sanullim live back in '77 or '78.

Shin Jung-hyeong is even more important, and Young claims he's one of her favorite singers. He began his career playing for American GIs in 1955, and gradually he developed his own style, becoming the Jimi Hendrix of Korea, as Yoon put it, and launching Korean rock pretty much single-handedly.

The song showcased here, "Beautiful Landscape," is a hit from 1972 that has been widely covered. The translation of the title doesn't quite do it justice — the word used for "beauty" is the Korean rather than the Chinese term, giving it an earthy feel, while the word for "landscape" is literally "river-mountain," a much more poetic term. It's essentially a paean to the Korean landscape, but the paranoid, authoritarian regime of Park Chung Hee managed to find something wrong with it, and with similarly simple lyrics from other songs, and made Shin suffer for it.

As with the Brazilian Tropicalists who were similarly persecuted, Shin was eventually rehabilitated and today is recognized as one of Korea's greatest musicians. According to Young, he receives tributes from Korean pop stars of all stripes, who see him as an inspiration.

[a groovy way to sleep]

Raga-Riff by The Punjabs [via Office Naps]

Thanks to Moistworks for alerting me, via soul sides, about an excellent music blog: Office Naps.

Devoted to obscure yet funky 45s, Office Naps offers some truly weird and fascinating music from deep in the archives of our collective musical memory. I particularly enjoyed the post about 1960s sitar grooves. For some reason it pleases me enormously that there was a group called The Punjabs back in the '60s, even if it was just a name slapped onto a cut by L.A. studio musicians.

Nice. Very nice.

[bollywood hip-shake]

Hips Don't Lie (Live at the VMAs) (Google Video) | Hips Don't Lie (YouTube Video) by Shakira

According to the BBC, Shakira so enjoyed the Bollywood costumes and choreography she tried on (with moderate skill and success) at the MTV Video Music Awards that she is now hoping to do a Bollywood-style music video with that night's choreographer, Indian director Farah Khan (no relation to Louis Farrakhan).

Considering that Shakira has long blended genres, combining Latin, Middle Eastern, hip-hop and rock music and dance, throwing in a little Bollywood flavor should be easy enough. And I am generally in favor of artists of all stripes dabbling (1, 2, 3) in what I want to call "Indiana" but can't because a certain Midwestern state has stolen the term. I'm also generally in favor of Shakira's hips, whose veracity is open to question but whose booty-shakin' snap-and-shimmy skillz-with-a-Z are not in doubt.

I therefore look forward to seeing how this musical polymath incorporates Bollywood's masala into her multi-culti stew. (And yes, it is pleasant to think of Shakira as fusion cuisine, isn't it?)

[oh, lordi!]

Hard Rock Hallelujah (Audio | Video) by Lordi

The Eurovision Song Contest is usually an ABBAesque cheesefest, but this year's winners are different. Still hopelessly cheesy, yes, but different. Taking a page from GWAR, Lordi — the most popular thing to come out of Finland since Nokia — is a metal band that only appears in ridiculous monster constumes and that indulges in parodic Satanic lyrics. From their contest-winning anthem "Rock and Roll Hallelujah":

On the day of Rockoning
It's who dares, wins
You will see the jokers soon'll be the new kings

Apparently the day of Rockoning has come, and these jokers reign supreme. In Europe, anyway.

[korean dance at lincoln center]

On Tuesday, August 8, at 7:30 p.m., the 82-year-old Korean Living National Treasure dancer Kang Sun Young will perform at the New York State Theater at Lincoln Center, along with her troupe of 60 dancers and a 14-piece Korean traditional orchestra.

It's extremely rare for a Korean performance to be staged on this scale outside of Korea. From what I know of Korean dance, it should be a moving and powerful experience. You can read the press release for details.

The Korean Mission to the UN is giving out tickets, so if you've got any interest in coming with me, please let me know by July 25.

[weekly world music 14: weaving voices]

America is Waiting | New Feet by Brian Eno and David Byrne (My Life in the Bush of Ghosts)

Dhyana and Donalogue | Speaking in Tongues I | Sacred Stones by Sheila Chandra (Weaving My Ancestors' Voices)

In 1979, Brian Eno and David Byrne, who had been working together on Talking Heads records, embarked on a remarkable project, the result of which was the 1980 album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts. Lavishly reissued by Nonesuch, Bush of Ghosts sounds perhaps better today than it did then. Inspired by then-obscure African and Arabic music as well as the nascent hip-hop scene and its elision of the roles of composer, performer and curator, Eno and Byrne set out to create the music of an imaginary culture.

There were twists and turns along the way — fascinatingly described in the intelligent new liner notes by Byrne — and the final product, made up of rhythm tracks and found vocal samples, captured the zeitgeist of an uncertain time during which convulsions in the Third World intruded on the consciousness of the First. The period during which the album was made was one of relentless coverage of the Iranian hostage crisis. It also saw the independence of Zimbabwe and the kidnapping and murder of the American ambassador to Afghanistan. In America, Ronald Reagan was elected president. The album's vocal samples of African and Muslim singers, African-American and white American preachers, angry political talkshow hosts and laughing exorcists create an ominous swirl of cross-cultural superstition and ecstaticism that reflected the atmosphere of those times and resonates strongly today.

"America is Waiting" probably reflects the atmosphere of the hostage crisis most clearly, but its mood of expectation, condemnation and menace could have come straight from today's talk radio. "New Feet" is an outtake that uses beautiful samples of Muslim (I think) singing. You can listen to snippets of all the tracks at the Bush of Ghosts website, which is chock full of goodies, including a remix site, and well worth a look.

A very different approach to voice across cultures is that of Sheila Chandra, the first English pop singer of Indian descent to chart a hit. On her album Weaving my Ancestors' Voices, she specifically wanted to move past the idea that fusion is about mixing up exotic instruments, so she limited herself to voice and drone. The fusion is all in the vocal style. "Dhyana and Donalogue" is an adaptation of a very old Irish ballad, with some wordless Muslim-style lament thrown in. "Speaking in Tongues I" is a bravura performance of Indian spoken percussion. And we end with "Sacred Stones," a gorgeous blending of Christian and Hindu prayers and harmonies. Amen, Shiva!

[weekly world music 13: songs for the dear leader]

Song of General KIM IL SUNG | Don't Ask My Name | Children's Music 1 (Music Gallery of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea)

애국가 (Aegukga) (National Anthem of the Republic of Korea)

Been hankering for creepy marches and disturbing paeans to terrifying totalitarian dictators? Your search is over!

In honor of North Korea's recent erectile dysfunction, here are a few tracks from the DPRK's charming Music Gallery, as filled with joy as everything produced in the jolly North. My Korean isn't good enough to understand most of the lyrics, and I'm not about to go wandering around the South Korean UN Mission in search of someone to translate North Korean propaganda ditties, so unfortunately I can't tell you exactly what these tunes are about. I did catch the children singing "김정일 ... 우리 아버지" (Kim Jong-il ... uri abeoji, or Kim Jong-il ... our father) at one point, but you knew that was in there somewhere.

In the interest of fairness, I've also included the national anthem of the Republic of Korea, whose title translates to The Patriotic Song — you may recall hearing it following some short-track skating event in the Winter Olympics. It's better than the North Korean stuff, although I find it disappointing that so many Asian countries have gone for poignant yet rousing anthems in the European classical tradition. Like, wouldn't it be cooler if the national anthem of Indonesia was the Kecak, or if India's was a raga that took 45 minutes? If Nepal can have its wacky flag, shouldn't someone have a truly bizarre national anthem?

Oh, and if you happen to be wondering why a "weekly" feature appears as sporadically as Weekly World Music, let's just say that I'm on summer schedule, and also that I'm sorta lazy. I'll try to keep up with it every week, but some weeks it'll slide. Life is full of broken promises.