I listened to the 17 one earlier, I'll tell you, that line of Hepworth's (quoted in the review) "playing at adult life with live ammunition" is just so on point.
It was a good listen but Hepworth is just awesome.
Review from The Observer, worth sharing I thought.
On Tuesday last week, the third and final part of Laura Barton’s Notes on Musicwas broadcast on Radio 4. Entitled Laura Barton’s One True Love, it was about Bruce Springsteen. Or “Broohss”, as Barton had it, in her beautiful, intimate speaking voice. The way she said it, it sounded like a kiss.
Barton loves Springsteen. I do not, but her programme made me think I might: that’s the joy of how Barton writes and talks about music. She’s full of the romance of pop and rock’n’roll, their potent promise; the way a voice or a song – or just a cadence – can seem to understand you, send you on a journey, solve your life’s problems. And in her short series she’s unpicked three elements of her personal pop romance.
The first episode, Seventeen, examined music’s obsession with that age. Barton spoke to journalist David Hepworth, founder editor of Just Seventeen magazine, and musicians Janis Ian and Sharon Van Etten, who’ve written songs about being 17. Their insights were interwoven with archive interviews with other middle-aged 17-ers, such as Stevie “Edge of Seventeen” Nicks, who pointed out that musicians like 17 partly because “seventeen scans well, it’s got extra syllables”. Plus, lots of wonderful songs.
Barton’s essay on what she remembered about being that age, its almost-adult power, was as delightful as you’d expect, and she drew some great insights from her interviewees. (Hepworth: “You’re playing at an adult life, with live ammunition.”) There were many voices, too, who weren’t introduced immediately: weirdly, it reminded me of being that age, of listening to people speak but not fully understanding the context, not having the experience to know exactly what they were talking about. Trying to understand something just out of reach.
The next two episodes, about Happy Sad songs and good old Bruce, were just as lovely. The Bruce one was the most straightforward, an uncomplicated love letter from Barton and her Springsteen-mad interviewees. The production, by Alan Hall of Falling Tree, was exceptional throughout, taking interviews and music and weaving them into something far less linear and prosaic than the usual music show. This, along with Barton’s words, made these programmes a kind of music in themselves – emotional audio pieces releasing forgotten or misunderstood feelings. It’s amazing how that can happen.
For those of you who fell in love with Laura Bartons voice, you may enjoy this:
You’re welcome.
I listened to the 17 one earlier, I'll tell you, that line of Hepworth's (quoted in the review) "playing at adult life with live ammunition" is just so on point.
It was a good listen but Hepworth is just awesome.
A preciant, elequent broadcaster and writer.
I'll need to check out the other two shows.
Because they sound interesting.
Not just because I want to listen to her voice some more......no, not that at all.
Review from The Observer, worth sharing I thought.
On Tuesday last week, the third and final part of Laura Barton’s Notes on Music was broadcast on Radio 4. Entitled Laura Barton’s One True Love, it was about Bruce Springsteen. Or “Broohss”, as Barton had it, in her beautiful, intimate speaking voice. The way she said it, it sounded like a kiss.
Barton loves Springsteen. I do not, but her programme made me think I might: that’s the joy of how Barton writes and talks about music. She’s full of the romance of pop and rock’n’roll, their potent promise; the way a voice or a song – or just a cadence – can seem to understand you, send you on a journey, solve your life’s problems. And in her short series she’s unpicked three elements of her personal pop romance.
The first episode, Seventeen, examined music’s obsession with that age. Barton spoke to journalist David Hepworth, founder editor of Just Seventeen magazine, and musicians Janis Ian and Sharon Van Etten, who’ve written songs about being 17. Their insights were interwoven with archive interviews with other middle-aged 17-ers, such as Stevie “Edge of Seventeen” Nicks, who pointed out that musicians like 17 partly because “seventeen scans well, it’s got extra syllables”. Plus, lots of wonderful songs.
Barton’s essay on what she remembered about being that age, its almost-adult power, was as delightful as you’d expect, and she drew some great insights from her interviewees. (Hepworth: “You’re playing at an adult life, with live ammunition.”) There were many voices, too, who weren’t introduced immediately: weirdly, it reminded me of being that age, of listening to people speak but not fully understanding the context, not having the experience to know exactly what they were talking about. Trying to understand something just out of reach.
The next two episodes, about Happy Sad songs and good old Bruce, were just as lovely. The Bruce one was the most straightforward, an uncomplicated love letter from Barton and her Springsteen-mad interviewees. The production, by Alan Hall of Falling Tree, was exceptional throughout, taking interviews and music and weaving them into something far less linear and prosaic than the usual music show. This, along with Barton’s words, made these programmes a kind of music in themselves – emotional audio pieces releasing forgotten or misunderstood feelings. It’s amazing how that can happen.
I had another listen to this today.
I'll tell you........those dulcet tones........talking Bruce.......I was damn near dimming the lights and putting Barry White on the turntable.