I’ve never seemed to have a problem with public speaking,
which is something I’ve done on numerous occasions in the past. I have few concerns about my paper which is
on a topic I’ve frequently spoken.
Therefore my worries are strictly about my delivery, or dare I say it, the
quality of my performance.
During a spare moment to myself, I muse about just how analogous
my situation would be to that of the average rock star. Some of the differences
are fairly obvious - no backstage, no rider, a much smaller crowd and absolutely
zero prospect of groupies. But I
suspect the similarities are much more striking. As I’m not disconnected from reality by
alcohol or drugs, I worry about whether I don’t sound as though I’m delivering
a rote, practically committed to memory presentation completely devoid of
personality. I hope I don’t forget
lyrics (i.e fluff key points), that the P.A system (a microphone actually) I’ll
be given to use works and that my back projection (i.e my PowerPoint presentation)
doesn’t malfunction.
As I’m appearing at a conference, it could also be suggested
that I’m not headlining my own gig but is one of numerous acts at a music
festival. I’m presenting in the area
with the greatest audience capacity so it’s safe to suggest I’m on the equivalent
of the festival main stage. As my presentation is not a keynote address,
it’s also safe to say I’m not the headliner, despite going on late in the day. Despite being on a festival bill, I suspect I’ll
be largely speaking to those who would want to hear “my message” or are “fans” (in
this instance of my employer, not me).
There is a possibility though, should the punters not want to attend the
parallel sessions on offer on the other “stages” that I’ll pick up a few
curious onlookers and convert them to our cause.
And so it’s gig time.
I don’t have a walk on theme but I do receive a nice introduction from
the President of the organising body. I’m
handed the mic and step into the limelight.
The conference “roadies” had already loaded my presentation into the
computer and so I’m straight into it.
From this point onwards, I’m focused on my presentation and am
especially conscious of the need to stay within the allocated time. I speak
well although I occasionally send the presentation into reverse but the
feedback is good. Afterwards, a number
have stayed behind to chat. I give time
to everyone even though I’m itching to check into my hotel for the night, grab
something to eat and speak to “M”.
Of course, I could not do this all on my own. For inspiration, I needed something reflective
and yet simultaneously inspirational for my lengthy drive to and from the gig
venue. The following album delivers this
in spades;
(# 339) Metallica And
The San Francisco Symphony Orchestra – S + M (1999)
I must admit that I was dubious when I first heard about
this album. How could a symphony
orchestra possibly compete with the kings of all things heavy? Fortunately,
unlike other bands who have attempted this in the past, Metallica hit on the
perfect collaborator for such a project. Michael Kamen had composed full bore
orchestra scores for such Hollywood blockbusters as the first three Die Hard movies
a couple of Lethal Weapons and other like films in which he was able to use the
orchestra to either counter point or underscore various explosions and other similar
moments. He succeeded brilliantly in
this task, finding tracks in their catalogue where sufficient space existed for
the orchestra’s inclusion. Of course,
none of this would have mattered had the band not performed at maximum intensity
ion the nights this was recorded; indeed, they seemed to play with such a
ferocity that I don’t think I’ve heard on their mass released live
recordings. If it exists, I’d love to
obtain a copy of this album without the orchestra.
The first disc of this double CD is nothing short of perfect
and could have easily been released as a standalone album. It begins with the orchestra playing their
rendition of Metallica’s traditional walk on music, Ennio Morricone’s The Ecstasy
Of Gold. (Listen for the roar of the
audience when they realise this was occurring.)
The band then joins them for the 9 minute instrumental The Call Of Ktulu,
a fitting nod to co-writer Cliff Burton who had posed the idea years previously
prior to his death and, for once, a deserved winner of that year’s Grammy Award
for that most ridiculous of categories “Best Rock Instrumental Performance”. This leads straight into a truly awesome
rendition of Master Of Puppets, arguably the band’s best ever of this chestnut,
with a major sing-along rendition by the audience. A turbocharged version of
Fuel (easily outstripping the original studio version in power), The Memory
Remains and the unreleased No Leaf Clover also stand out and Bleeding Me
provides an enigmatic end to the first disc. Nothing Else Matters and Until It
Sleeps starts the second disc in a similar mode which is quickly redressed by For Whom The
Bells Tolls and Wherever I May Roam. However, after this the quality dips. There is a seriously heavy Sad But True but,
for the first time, the orchestral accompaniment sounds like it’s been thrown
on after the fact. A shortened version
of One simply doesn’t work, the orchestra merely plays along with Enter Sandman
and is overwhelmed at the end by a ferocious Battery. It almost sounds as though Kamen had produced
his score in the order in which the songs were to be played in the shows and simply
ran out time to do justice the final numbers.
Still, don’t let this deter you. This
is the one album that demonstrates that a mixture of classical and hard rock
can actually work.
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