“When The Levee Breaks” Performed by John Paul Jones & Musicians Around the World

From Play­ing for Change comes this: “When The Lev­ee Breaks is a pow­er­ful, thought-pro­vok­ing and emo­tion­al­ly-charged clas­sic by Led Zep­pelin, from their Led Zep­pelin IV album. The song is a rework of the 1929 release by Kansas Joe McCoy and Mem­phis Min­nie about the Great Mis­sis­sip­pi Flood of 1927; the most destruc­tive riv­er flood­ing in U.S. his­to­ry.” In the accom­pa­ny­ing video above, we can see pow­er­ful scenes from the Kat­ri­na Flood of 2005–and Jones get­ting accom­pa­nied by “Stephen Perkins of Jane’s Addic­tion, Susan Tedeschi, Derek Trucks and over 20 musi­cians and dancers from sev­en dif­fer­ent coun­tries.”

Find more Play­ing for Change per­for­mances in the Relat­eds below.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

“Stand By Me” Sung By Musi­cians Around the World

The Grate­ful Dead’s “Rip­ple” Played By Musi­cians Around the World (with Cameos by David Cros­by, Jim­my Buf­fett & Bill Kreutz­mann)

Musi­cians Around the World Play The Band’s Clas­sic Song, “The Weight,” with Help from Rob­bie Robert­son and Ringo Starr

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How the Riot Grrrl Movement Created a Revolution in Rock & Punk

The Riot Grrrl move­ment feels like one of the last real rev­o­lu­tions in rock and punk, and not just because of its fem­i­nist, anti-cap­i­tal­ist pol­i­tics. As Poly­phon­ic out­lines in his short music his­to­ry video, Riot Grrrl was one of the last times any­thing major hap­pened in rock music before the inter­net. And it’s espe­cial­ly thrilling because it all start­ed with *zines*.

Women in the punk scene had a right to com­plain. Bands and their fans were very male, and sex­u­al harass­ment was chron­ic at shows, leav­ing most women stand­ing at the back of the crowd. Some zines even spelled it out: “Punks Are Not Girls,” says one.

Alien­at­ed from the scene but still fans at heart, Tobi Vail and Kath­leen Han­na, already pro­duc­ing their own fem­i­nist zines, joined forces to release “Biki­ni Kill” a gath­er­ing of lyrics, essays, con­fes­sion­als, appro­pri­at­ed quotes, plugs for Vail’s oth­er zine “Jig­saw”, and a sense that some­thing was hap­pen­ing. Some­thing was chang­ing in rock cul­ture. Kim Deal of the Pix­ies and Kim Gor­don of Son­ic Youth were heroes, Poly Styrene of X‑Ray Spex was a leg­end, and Yoko Ono “paved the way in more ways than one for us angry grrl rock­ers.” Anoth­er zine, “Girl Germs,” was cre­at­ed by Alli­son Wolfe and Mol­ly Neu­man.

Biki­ni Kill the zine led to Biki­ni Kill the band in 1990, and their song “Rebel Girl” became an anthem of a new fem­i­nist rock move­ment focused main­ly in the Pacif­ic North­west, around the same time as grunge.

Wolfe and Neu­man, joined by Erin Smith, formed Brat­mo­bile in 1991. K Records founder Calvin John­son had asked them to play sup­port for Biki­ni Kill, and out of necessity—Wolfe first admit­ted they were a “fake band”—they grabbed rehearsal space and became a “real” band on the spot. “Some­thing in me clicked,” Wolfe said. “Like, okay, if most boy punk rock bands just lis­ten to the Ramones and that’s how they write their songs, then we’ll do the oppo­site and I won’t lis­ten to any Ramones and that way we’ll sound dif­fer­ent.”

The bur­geon­ing scene need­ed a man­i­festo, and it got one in “Biki­ni Kill” issue #2. The Riot Grrrl Man­i­festo staked out a space that was against “racism, able-bod­ieism, ageism, speciesism, clas­sism, thin­ism, sex­ism, anti-semi­tism and het­ero­sex­ism” as well as “cap­i­tal­ism in all its forms.” It ends with: “BECAUSE I believe with my whole­heart­mind­body that girls con­sti­tute a rev­o­lu­tion­ary soul force that can, and will change the world for real.”

The man­i­festo (and the very healthy Pacif­ic North­west live scene) spawned a move­ment, even bring­ing with it bands that had been around pre­vi­ous­ly, like L7. Riot Grrrl set out to ele­vate women’s voic­es and music, with­out capit­u­lat­ing to male stan­dards, and return to the DIY and col­lec­tive ener­gy of the ear­ly punk scene. It also brought fem­i­nist the­o­ry out of the col­leges and onto the stage, and with it queer the­o­ry and dia­log about trau­ma, rape, and abuse—everything main­stream cul­ture would rather not talk about. Like the orig­i­nal punk scene in the 1970s, it burned bright­ly and flamed out. But it inspired gen­er­a­tions of bands, from Sleater-Kin­ney to White Lung, as well as non-rock music like the Elec­tro­clash move­ment.

Read a zine from the time, or lis­ten to the lyrics of Riot Grrrl bands and you will hear the same dis­course, and rec­og­nize the same tac­tics, as today. In some ways it feels even more rad­i­cal now-—that hum­ble, pho­to­copied zines could affect a whole scene and not be atom­ized by social media.

To delve deep­er, check out the New York Times’ Riot Grrl Essen­tial Lis­ten­ing Guide.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

All 80 Issues of the Influ­en­tial Zine Punk Plan­et Are Now Online & Ready for Down­load at the Inter­net Archive

Down­load 834 Rad­i­cal Zines From a Rev­o­lu­tion­ary Online Archive: Glob­al­iza­tion, Punk Music, the Indus­tri­al Prison Com­plex & More

How Nirvana’s Icon­ic “Smells Like Teen Spir­it” Came to Be: An Ani­mat­ed Video Nar­rat­ed by T‑Bone Bur­nett Tells the True Sto­ry

33 Songs That Doc­u­ment the His­to­ry of Fem­i­nist Punk (1975–2015): A Playlist Curat­ed by Pitch­fork

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the Notes from the Shed pod­cast and is the pro­duc­er of KCR­W’s Curi­ous Coast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, and/or watch his films here.

Zoo Hires Marvin Gaye Impersonator to Help Endangered Monkeys “Get It On”

This past week­end, mon­keys resid­ing at a British zoo got a spe­cial treat. A Mar­vin Gaye imper­son­ator per­formed “Let’s Get It On” and “Sex­u­al Heal­ing,” all in an effort to help the mon­keys, well, “get it on.”

Locat­ed in Stafford, Eng­land, the Tren­tham Mon­key For­est saw the per­for­mance as a nov­el way to get their endan­gered Bar­bary macaques to pro­duce off­spring: Park Direc­tor Matt Lovatt said on the zoo’s web­site: “We thought it could be a cre­ative way to encour­age our females to show a lit­tle affec­tion to males that might not have been so lucky in love.” “Females in sea­son mate with sev­er­al males so pater­ni­ty among our fur­ry res­i­dents is nev­er known. Each birth is vital to the species with Bar­bary macaques being classed as endan­gered. Birthing sea­son occurs in late spring/early sum­mer each year, so hope­ful­ly Marvin’s done his mag­ic and we can wel­come some new babies!”

For any­one keep­ing score, Dave Largie is the singer chan­nel­ing Mar­vin.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via UPI

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Pianist Plays Beethoven, Bach, Chopin, Rav­el & Debussy for Blind Ele­phants in Thai­land

Footage of the Last Known Tas­man­ian Tiger Restored in Col­or (1933)

Two Mil­lion Won­drous Nature Illus­tra­tions Put Online by The Bio­di­ver­si­ty Her­itage Library

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Pink Floyd’s Debut on American TV, Restored in Color (1967)

Sev­er­al years ago, Josh Jones took you inside Pink Floy­d’s first appear­ance on Amer­i­can tele­vi­sion. In 1967, after releas­ing their first album Piper at the Gates of Dawn, the band came to the States and made their unlike­ly TV debut on Dick Clark’s Amer­i­can Band­stand, per­form­ing “Apples and Oranges.” That’s the “third sin­gle and the final song Bar­rett wrote for the band before he suf­fered a psy­chot­ic break onstage and was replaced by David Gilmour.”

Our orig­i­nal post fea­tured grainy black and white footage of the appear­ance. Above, you can watch a restored, col­orized ver­sion that took near­ly a year to cre­ate. Accord­ing to the YouTube chan­nel “Artist on the Bor­der,” each “frame of the 3350 required frames had to be uploaded indi­vid­u­al­ly, down­loaded again and indi­vid­u­al­ly named.” Enjoy the fruits of their labor above.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Pink Floyd Per­forms on US Tele­vi­sion for the First Time: Amer­i­can Band­stand, 1967

Dick Clark Intro­duces Jef­fer­son Air­plane & the Sounds of Psy­che­del­ic San Fran­cis­co to Amer­i­ca: Yes Par­ents, You Should Be Afraid (1967)

Talk­ing Heads’ First TV Appear­ance Was on Amer­i­can Band­stand, and It Was a Lit­tle Awk­ward (1979)

Mystical Photographs Taken Inside a Cello, Double Bass & Other Instruments

All images by Adri­an Bor­da

“If God had designed the orches­tra,” remarks a char­ac­ter in Rick Moody’s Hotels of North Amer­i­ca, “then the cel­lo was His great­est accom­plish­ment.” I couldn’t agree more. The cel­lo sounds sub­lime, looks state­ly… even the word cel­lo evokes regal poise and grace. If orches­tral instru­ments were chess pieces, the cel­lo would be queen: shape­ly and dig­ni­fied, prime mover on the board, majes­tic in sym­phonies, quar­tets, cham­ber pop ensem­bles, post rock bands….

With all its many son­ic and aes­thet­ic charms, I didn’t imag­ine it was pos­si­ble to love the cel­lo more. Then I saw Roman­ian artist Adri­an Bor­da’s mag­nif­i­cent pho­tos tak­en from inside one. The pho­to above, Bor­da tells us at his Deviant Art page, was tak­en from inside “a very old French cel­lo made in Napoleon’s times.” It looks like the bel­ly of the HMS Vic­to­ry mat­ed with the nave of Chartres Cathe­dral. The light descend­ing through the f‑holes seems of some divine ori­gin.

Bor­da has also tak­en pho­tos from inside an old dou­ble bass (above), as well as a gui­tar, sax, and piano. The stringed orches­tral instru­ments, he says, yield­ed the best results. He was first inspired by a 2009 ad cam­paign for the Berlin­er Phil­har­moniker that “cap­tured the insides of instru­ments,” writes Twist­ed Sifter, “reveal­ing the hid­den land­scapes with­in.” With­out any sense of how the art direc­tor cre­at­ed the images, Bor­da set about exper­i­ment­ing with meth­ods of his own.

He was lucky enough to have a luthi­er friend who had a con­tra­bass open for repairs. Lat­er he trav­eled to Amiens, where he found the French cel­lo, also open. “To achieve these shots,” Twist­ed Sifter notes, “Bor­da fit a Sony NEX‑6 cam­era equipped with a Samyang 8mm fish­eye lens inside the instru­ment and then used a smart remote so he could pre­view the work­flow on his phone.” Depend­ing on the angle and the play of light with­in the instru­ment, the pho­tos can look eerie, somber, omi­nous, or angelic—mirroring the cello’s expres­sive range.

Bor­da gives the cel­lo inte­ri­or shot above the per­fect title “A Long, Lone­ly Time….” Its play of smoke and light is ghost­ly noir. His pho­to below, of the inside of a sax­o­phone, pulls us into a haunt­ed, alien tun­nel. If you want to know what’s on the oth­er side, con­sid­er the strange sur­re­al­ist worlds of Borda’s main gig as a sur­re­al­ist painter of warped fan­tasies and night­mares. Unlike these pho­tos, his paint­ings are full of lurid, vio­lent col­or, but they are also filled with mys­te­ri­ous musi­cal motifs. See more of Bor­da’s inte­ri­or instru­ment pho­tos at Deviant Art and Twister Sifter.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2018.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch a Luthi­er Birth a Cel­lo in This Hyp­not­ic Doc­u­men­tary

Why Vio­lins Have F‑Holes: The Sci­ence & His­to­ry of a Remark­able Renais­sance Design

Hear the Amati “King” Cel­lo, the Old­est Known Cel­lo in Exis­tence (c. 1560)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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Bob Dylan Goes Punk on Late Night with David Letterman, Playing “Jokerman” with the Latino Punk Band, the Plugz (1984)

Lis­ten to Bob Dylan’s stu­dio albums all you like; you don’t know his music until you hear the live ver­sions. That, at least, is the con­clu­sion at which I’ve arrived after spend­ing the bet­ter part of the past year lis­ten­ing through Dylan’s stu­dio discog­ra­phy. This is not to put him into the mold of the Grate­ful Dead, whose stu­dio albums come a dis­tant sec­ond in impor­tance to their vast body of live record­ings. It was sure­ly the songs pre­served on the likes of High­way 61 Revis­it­edBlood on the Tracks, and Love and Theft, after all, that won Dylan the Nobel Prize. But in a sense he’s nev­er stopped writ­ing these same songs, often sub­ject­ing them to brazen styl­is­tic and lyri­cal changes when he launch­es into them onstage.

This self-rein­ter­pre­ta­tion occa­sion­al­ly pro­duces what Dylan’s fans con­sid­er a new defin­i­tive ver­sion. Per­haps the most agreed-upon exam­ple is “Jok­er­man,” the open­er to his 1983 album Infi­dels (and the basis for one of his ear­li­est MTV music videos), which he per­formed the fol­low­ing year on the still-new Late Night with David Let­ter­man.

As Vul­ture’s Matthew Giles puts it, Let­ter­man was fast becom­ing “a com­e­dy sen­sa­tion, bring­ing a new lev­el of sar­casm, irony, and Bud Mel­man-cen­tric humor to a late-night for­mat still reliant on the smooth unflap­pa­bil­i­ty of John­ny Car­son.” Dylan had been going in the oth­er direc­tion, “hav­ing frus­trat­ed his audi­ence with the musi­cal­ly slick, lyri­cal­ly hec­tor­ing series of evan­gel­i­cal Chris­t­ian albums that he’d released in the late 70s and ear­ly 80s.”

By 1984, “Dave was far more of a coun­ter­cul­ture hero than Bob.” But Dylan had been sur­rep­ti­tious­ly prepar­ing for his next musi­cal trans­for­ma­tion: many were the nights he would “leave his Mal­ibu home and slip into shows by the likes of L.A. punk stal­warts X, or check out the San­ta Mon­i­ca Civic Cen­ter when the Clash came to town.” For accom­pa­ni­ment on the Let­ter­man gig he brought drum­mer J.J. Hol­i­day,  as well as Char­lie Quin­tana and bassist Tony Mar­si­co of the LA punk band the Plugz, with whom he’d been spent the pre­vi­ous few months jam­ming. It isn’t until they take Let­ter­man’s stage that Dylan tells the band what to open with: blues­man Son­ny Boy Williamson’s “Don’t Start Me Talk­ing.”

Just above, you can see Dylan’s rehearsal for the Let­ter­man show. It fea­tures five tracks–“I Once Knew a Man,” “License to Kill,” “Treat Her Right,” “My Guy,” and a ren­di­tion of “Jok­er­man” that turns the orig­i­nal’s reg­gae into stripped-down, hard-dri­ving rock. The styl­is­tic change seems to infuse the 42-year-old Dylan with a new sense of musi­cal vital­i­ty. As for the song itself, its lyrics — cryp­tic even by Dylan’s stan­dards — take on new mean­ings when charged by the young band’s ener­gy. But even in this high­ly con­tem­po­rary musi­cal con­text, Dylan keeps it “clas­sic” by bring­ing out the har­mon­i­ca for a final solo, though not with­out some con­fu­sion as to which key he need­ed. If any­thing, that mix-up makes the song even more punk — or maybe post-punk, pos­si­bly new wave, but in any case thor­ough­ly Dylan.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Bob Dylan Plays Tom Petty’s “Learn­ing to Fly” Live in Con­cert (and How Pet­ty Wit­nessed Dylan’s Musi­cal Epiphany in 1987)

Bob Dylan & The Grate­ful Dead Rehearse Togeth­er in Sum­mer 1987: Hear 74 Tracks

Watch Bob Dylan Per­form “Only A Pawn In Their Game,” His Damn­ing Song About the Mur­der of Medgar Evers, at the 1963 March on Wash­ing­ton

Bob Dylan at the White House

How Bob Dylan Cre­at­ed a Musi­cal & Lit­er­ary World All His Own: Four Video Essays

75 Post-Punk and Hard­core Con­certs from the 1980s Have Been Dig­i­tized & Put Online: Fugazi, GWAR, Lemon­heads, Dain Bra­m­age (with Dave Grohl) & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Rare Arabic 78 RPM Records Enter the Public Domain

Pub­lic Domain Day is not just about the famous works that get released—-this year Mil­ne’s Win­nie-the-Pooh and Hemingway’s The Sun Also Ris­es were the best known-—but the archives that sud­den­ly open up when any poten­tial argu­ment over copy­right bypass­es its sell-by date.

For exam­ple, Harvard’s Loeb Music Library has just released a selec­tion from its 600-vol­ume 78rpm col­lec­tion of Arab and Arab-Amer­i­can music from the ear­ly 20th Cen­tu­ry. The Library’s col­lec­tion spans rough­ly 1903 to the 1950s and is not just a record of the aes­thet­ics and the time of the Nah­dah Era (the Arab Renais­sance), but it also serves as a his­to­ry of the still-young music indus­try. Among the RCA, Colum­bia, and Vic­tor labels, you will also find many inde­pen­dent (and boot­leg!) labels.

Harvard’s web­site notes:

Arab record com­pa­nies, such as Baidaphon and Cairophon, are only a few among many oth­er Amer­i­can (Colum­bia, Vic­tor), Euro­pean (Odeon, Orfeon), and Arab-Amer­i­can com­pa­nies (Al-Chark, Alam­phon) that record­ed and released these notable Arab voic­es. Songs and per­form­ers from Egypt, Syr­ia, Lebanon, Pales­tine, Iraq and Al-Maghrib exhib­it the rich tra­di­tion of Ara­bic musi­cal forms, name­ly the art of al-mawwāl (vocal impro­vi­sa­tion), qaṣī­dah (sung poems), muwashshaḥ (Andalu­sian sung poet­ry), ṭaqṭūqah (pop songs) and taqsīm (instru­men­tal impro­vi­sa­tion. Reli­gious chants are also an impor­tant piece of the Ara­bic musi­cal tra­di­tion. The col­lec­tion includes Qur’anic recita­tion of Al-shaykh Ṭāhā Al-Fash­nī and a rare record of a woman reciter Wadū­dah Al-Minyalawī along­side Chris­t­ian hymns of Father Gigis ʻAzīz Al-Jiz­zīnī.

A selec­tion of record­ings are avail­able here for both online lis­ten­ing and down­load, using the Aviary Plat­form.

All this is hap­pen­ing due to the Music Mod­ern­iza­tion Act of 2018, which dif­fers in its pub­lic-domain release dates by a few years com­pared to print and film. Accord­ing to Cit­i­zen DJ, a web­site we told you about sev­er­al years ago, “all sound record­ings pub­lished before Jan­u­ary 1, 1923 entered the pub­lic domain on Jan­u­ary 1, 2022.”

The trick of course is get­ting access to all of these record­ings. The Library of Con­gress runs a site called The Nation­al Juke­box, with access to thou­sands of 78rpm records from Vic­tor and Colum­bia labels. That allows you to lis­ten but not down­load.

 

The Asso­ci­a­tion for Record­ed Sound Col­lec­tions also has a page not­ing “Ten Notable Pre-1923 Record­ings”, which ben­e­fits from its cura­tion. It fea­tures impor­tant ear­ly works like Mamie Smith’s “Crazy Blues,” one of the most pop­u­lar “race records” (i.e. vocal blues sung by Black per­form­ers) of 1920; Enri­co Caruso’s “Vesti La Giub­ba,” which fea­tures the tenor at the height of his career; and Vess L. Ossman’s record­ing of Joplin’s “Maple Leaf Rag,” which helped pop­u­lar­ize the com­pos­er. Also see our recent post: 400,000+ Sound Record­ings Made Before 1923 Have Entered the Pub­lic Domain.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

What’s Enter­ing the Pub­lic Domain in 2022: The Sun Also Ris­es, Win­nie-the-Pooh, Buster Keaton Come­dies & More

Meet the Oud, the “King of All Instru­ments” Whose Ori­gins Stretch Back 3500 Years Ago to Ancient Per­sia

The Great Gats­by Is Now in the Pub­lic Domain and There’s a New Graph­ic Nov­el

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the Notes from the Shed pod­cast and is the pro­duc­er of KCR­W’s Curi­ous Coast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, and/or watch his films here.

An Opera Singer & Cabaret Artist Record an Astonishing Version of David Bowie & Queen’s “Under Pressure”

On the sur­face of things, Antho­ny Roth Costan­zo, the inter­na­tion­al­ly-rec­og­nized coun­tertenor and Justin Vivian Bond, the sub­ver­sive per­for­mance artist best known for their cre­ation Kiki DuRane, “an alco­holic bat­tle-axe with a throat full of razor-blades,” would have lit­tle rea­son to share a mic, let alone inhab­it the same stage.

Leave sur­faces behind!

Their genre-defy­ing, just released album, Only An Octave Apart, explores the depths that lurk beneath them, find­ing com­mon cause between their cho­sen art forms and then some. The album’s title, a nod to the open­ing num­ber of a Met­ro­pol­i­tan Opera tele­vi­sion spe­cial star­ring come­di­an Car­ol Bur­nett and oper­at­ic sopra­no Bev­er­ly Sills, is just the tip of the ice­berg.

As they state in the pro­gram notes for a recent appear­ance with the New York Phil­har­mon­ic at Jazz at Lin­coln Cen­ter:

We each sound dif­fer­ent from what you would expect when you look at us. The jux­ta­po­si­tion of our voic­es, per­son­al­i­ties, and reper­toire sub­verts notions of high and low, be it in terms of pitch, cul­tur­al ech­e­lon, or degrees of camp — not to men­tion the dif­fer­ence in height.

If you thought David Bowie and Fred­die Mer­cury sent things into the stratos­phere when they joined forces on “Under Pres­sure,” lis­ten to Costan­zo and Bond’s take, above.

Their Dido’s Lament / White Flag Med­ley smash­es the musi­cal bina­ry with a del­i­ca­cy that is giv­en room to grow.

Costan­zo begins with two and a half soar­ing min­utes from Hen­ry Purcell’s Dido & Aeneas.

Intro­duc­ing the num­ber at Jazz at Lin­coln Cen­ter, he recalled how Dido & Aeneas was one of his first pro­fes­sion­al opera gigs at 19. No, he was­n’t cast as the fatal­ly dis­traught Queen of Carthage, a diva role he’s eyed for years, but rather the Sec­ond Woman and First Witch.

(“Sec­ond Woman / First Witch…sounds like the sto­ry of my life,” Bond mar­veled. “I own it! Can you imag­ine if you were First Woman and Sec­ond Witch?”)

Costan­zo got his chance at Dido in the sum­mer of 2020 when, with per­for­mance venues still closed due to the pan­dem­ic, he hatched an idea to cart Phil­har­mon­ic musi­cians and guest singers around the city’s five Bor­oughs in a rent­ed pick­up dubbed the NY Phil Band­wag­on80-some free per­for­mances lat­er, he felt ready to record.

When Bond joins in, it’s with Eng­lish singer-song­writer Dido’s 2003 chart top­per, White Flag, which also speaks to the pains of love. The sin­cer­i­ty of the per­form­ers caus­es a gor­geous alchem­i­cal reac­tion to soft­en the posi­tions of more than a few staunch opera-phobes and pop-deniers.

(“The won­der­ful thing about the opera,” Bond cracks, “is when you wake up, you’re at the opera!”)

Their Egypt­ian Sun mash up is born of an even can­nier pair­ing — The Ban­gles’ mid-80s hit, Walk Like An Egypt­ian and Philip Glass’ ancient Egypt-themed min­i­mal­ist mod­ern opera, Akhnat­en, in which Costan­za recent­ly starred, mak­ing his first entrance nude and flecked with gold.

Oth­er trea­sures from this fruit­ful col­lab­o­ra­tion include skill­ful inter­twin­ings of Tom Jobim’s Bossa nova favorite Águas de Março (Waters of March) with Gioachi­no Rossini’s Cin­derel­la-themed con­fec­tion La Cener­en­to­la,  and Gluck’s 18th-cen­tu­ry mas­ter­piece, Orfeo ed Euridice with Don’t Give Up, a “mes­sage of hope in the bleak­est of moments” and a hit for Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush when Bond was a year out of college…and  Costan­zo was four.

Lis­ten to Only an Octave Apart in its entire­ty on YouTube or Spo­ti­fy.

Antho­ny Ross Costan­zo will reprise his role as the rev­o­lu­tion­ary pharaoh, Akhnat­en, at the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Opera lat­er this spring.

- Ayun Hal­l­i­day is the Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine and author, most recent­ly, of Cre­ative, Not Famous: The Small Pota­to Man­i­festo.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

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Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.