On the passing of wonderful double bassist Danny Thompson
The term “creative border crosser” is misleading. The people we like to honor as creative border crossers don’t balance on any borders. They don’t cross any borders either. No, they simply don’t know any borders. They simply feel at home everywhere. What are different worlds for others is, for them, a vast cosmos with infinite facets. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to speak of creative cosmopolitans.
One of them was Danny Thompson. Born in 1939 into a mining family, he was introduced to music at an early age by his father’s two brothers, who played in a brass band. After his father died in the war, the family moved with six-year-old Danny to London, where he learned several instruments, including the trombone. He eventually discovered his love for the double bass, which captivated him so much that he built his first instrument himself at the age of 13 – according to legend, from a tea chest and piano strings he “found by chance.” Critics said they could still hear the influence of the trombone in his later bass playing.
In his early to mid-twenties, Danny Thompson embarked on what would become an exceptional career. He played in the band of jazz saxophonist Tubby Hayes, joined Alexis Korner’s Blues Incorporated, and finally, in 1967, was one of the founding members of Pentangle, the British band that effortlessly blended classic folk with jazz. It seemed only fitting that Thompson was also part of a trio around the future jazz-rock giant John McLaughlin (guitar). Blues, jazz, folk, and, of course, rock — Danny Thompson paid little attention to the criticism of the respective purists. He played what he wanted and with whomever he wanted. And this attitude catapulted him into a wide variety of musical spheres.
In the 1970s, the long-time highly esteemed string wizard went through difficult phases, was closely associated with brilliant eccentrics such as John Martyn and Nick Drake, the latter of whom died of an antidepressant overdose in 1974, and fell into alcoholism. From the 1980s onwards, having regained his footing, Danny Thompson also released his own music and increasingly contributed to albums by stars from a wide variety of genres. Only rarely were representatives of lighter pop music, such as Cliff Richard and Rod Stewart, included among his releases – mostly they were idiosyncratic artists who worked with as much vision and experimentation as he did. Talk Talk, David Sylvian, Peter Gabriel, Shelleyan Orphan, and Kate Bush are just a few of the many greats who enlisted his services. Through Peter Gabriel’s Real World label, he also participated in world music projects such as The Blind Boys of Alabama and S. E. Rogie.
It goes without saying that Danny Thompson was a virtuoso on his instrument. Furthermore, he developed a recognizable sound of his own, an almost poetic and consistently melodic style of playing, as well as the ability to absorb the music he contributed to while simultaneously enriching it with his personality. Danny Thompson never belonged to the army of ultimately interchangeable studio musicians, but was always a soulmate, a congenial artist who, with his bass playing, was known to elevate a production to the next level. You can hear it on many recordings – this bass, affectionately named Victoria by its keeper, is more than just a supporting instrument; Thompson plays it like a solo instrument, yet without obtrusively intruding on the foreground. An art mastered by few.
Danny Thompson died on September 23rd at the age of 86. With him, the world loses a great musician, whose companions always acknowledged that he had an equally big heart.
Paramore and Hayley Williams – this American band and their frontwoman have been on my mind for quite some time now. In more than twenty years, they’ve produced a collection of songs as extensive as they are stylistically diverse, and they’ve long since become international superstars. Only in Europe, and especially here in Germany, do they still fly somewhat under the radar. Why, actually?
They do exist, these clear cases: a new band, a new solo act, one or two stylish singles, and a well-made album, wonderful. As a fan, you don’t have to think about too much; the whole thing is simply fun and accompanies you through life for a while. Maybe a few nice songs more come along, and that’s it. Then there are the current sensations that come out of nowhere and supposedly shake up the pop world, but perhaps ultimately disappear into obscurity quite quickly – the garish iconoclasts and dazzling oddballs. Recently, these have often been women, and usually the topics have been gender politics, female empowerment, cheeky outsider perspectives, and/or the confident handling of apparent weaknesses and mental disorders. Sure, idiosyncratic stars like Megan Thee Stallion, Chappell Roan, Charli xcx, or, most recently, Lola Young, are incredibly exciting and important, but they are also somewhat overhyped. One can’t be sure whether they’ll still be making a name for themselves in the pop business in a year or two. Above all, of course, hover the almost untouchable megastars, sometimes in the literal sense. Just think of Pink & Co., whose live concerts are unthinkable without awe-inspiring acrobatics and an astonishing soaring above the crowd. The Madonnas, Coldplays, Beyoncés, and Dua Lipas of this world, who aim to simply overwhelm an event-hungry audience with perfectly crafted chart hits and elaborate stage shows, sometimes complemented by lavish dance crews and as many costume changes as possible – they are only topped by the biggest megastar of our time, Taylor Swift. With clever marketing strategies and a complex web of seemingly autobiographical references in her songs, she has created an entire “Taylorverse,” and no one will easily emulate her. But then there are the persistent, exceptional acts who slowly creep into your consciousness with their very own, unique sound; whom you initially encounter only sporadically, and in whom you discover more and more new sides the more you delve into them. Until at some point you realize that they have been in the business for a long time and have long been among the greats in other universes. Acts that are somehow present, but never truly tangible, that shimmer quite differently than the many flashy starlets, stars, and superstars we’re used to.
For me, these somewhat different acts include Paramore and Hayley Williams. But: Is it Paramore and their singer Hayley Williams? Or is it Hayley Williams—the frontwoman, who also occasionally pursues solo paths—with her band Paramore? The possible answers to these questions alone constitute part of Paramore’s fascination, especially since these questions have occupied and continue to occupy the changing band members as well. Indeed, the turbulent history of this American rock phenomenon is a bottomless pit, so let me just say this: When the band came together in Franklin, Tennessee, in 2004, its members were more or less teenagers. Emocore, pop-punk, and crossover rock were all the rage back then, and the extraordinarily talented combo quickly achieved initial notable success in the scene. From the very beginning, the fact that major record label Atlantic had a contract only with singer Hayley Williams, whom they hoped to develop into a mainstream pop star as a solo act, proved difficult. Williams, however, wanted to make it big with the band, so Paramore was reluctantly placed on a sublabel. This very unusual constellation resulted in constant jealousy in the early years – especially since Williams, whether she wanted it or not, always received the most attention from fans and the media. In addition, the frontwoman entered into romantic relationships with various band members one after the other, which further accelerated the already lively cycle of new additions, hiatuses, departures, and rejoinings. Enough fodder for gossip enthusiasts who, until then, had thought that the dynamics within a band couldn’t be more chaotic than those of Fleetwood Mac. I lost track of things at some point, and, to be honest, I ultimately don’t care.
Because what impresses me most is the extensive creative output of this band, which has integrated a wide variety of influences into its music, from crossover, grunge, and indie pop to classic singer-songwriter rock, dance, funk, and post-rock. This is especially true of Hayley Williams’ solo albums, which range from meditative trip-hop to quirky funk and truly serious mainstream pop. I could ramble on, but who cares? So I’ll just highlight a few highlights: Paramore’s song “Decode” was included on the soundtrack to the film adaptation of the “Twilight” fantasy saga. Hayley Williams is friends with Taylor Swift, and she has made moving guest appearances on her shows. This means that Williams and the band reach a huge spectrum of fans, from the die-hard alternative scene to charts-oriented audiences around the world. Williams is a style icon, changing outfits and hairstyles with dizzying frequency and being voted “Sexiest Female Artist” several times in reader polls for rock magazines. At the same time, she makes no secret of the fears, insecurities, and depressive phases in her life, which she often addresses in her songs. “Mental health” is a big topic. Williams is a role model for both up-and-coming lifestyle hedonists and pubescent kids in the process of self-discovery, which is actually an almost impossible balancing act. And yet this balancing act also naturally shapes the videos, some of which are bizarre and creepy, some of which are extremely tasteful and captivating. The full-blooded musicians and producers with whom Williams works have transcended all genre boundaries and know what they’re doing. The music harmonizes in a strange way with the lead vocals, which are anything but rock, but still come across as powerful and develop an astonishing number of nuances. What the collective delivers is – just like the lyrics – surprisingly free of clichés, stylistically diverse, and free of self-quotations or repetitions. Williams and Paramore don’t chase trends, but consistently cultivate their own free sound. And although they now fill huge stadiums and pull off a few rehearsed moves on stage, they don’t resort to glamorous, dazzling showmanship live, but rather stay grounded, sometimes self-deprecatingly. Essentially, Williams and Paramore – despite their intense self-promotion, including on social media – have retained a certain alternative and indie charm to this day, and their oft-demonstrated closeness to their fans doesn’t seem fake. In fact, you can still imagine these big stars in a small, trendy club.
Speaking of lyrics: They’re also worth exploring – rich in imagery, occasionally cryptic, but never mannered or overly convoluted. Rather searching, yet brutally open and often deadpan. Band dynamics are poetically reflected, as are psychological abysses, although there are always glimmers of hope. I would love to quote verse after verse here, but I’ll leave it at the opening verse of a song with the memorable title “Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party,” the title track of Williams’ current solo album. The overall context is difficult to grasp; it seems to be about a woman who feels called to greater things artistically, but never gets beyond depressing performances at bachelorette parties, at singing competitions in the provinces, or even in “fucking” karaoke bars. Perhaps a feeling from Williams’ early years? Or a reckoning with dull, restrictive social rituals and structures? The verse goes: “I’ll be the biggest star at this racist country singer’s bar.” The bold verse already hints at the tragedy of the main character, who will later realize: “No use shootin’ for the moon, no use chasing waterfalls.” Something so simple and yet profound takes some writing. For all their urge to push boundaries and engage in intense navel-gazing, there’s something very “American” about Williams and Paramore, and thus also something strange, difficult for Europeans to grasp, especially in today’s turbulent times. Perhaps one of the reasons why this exceptional ensemble hasn’t had a major breakthrough in our latitudes so far.
Music fans know the fulfilling feeling that comes with gradually getting to know and understand seemingly unwieldy artists and their music… or thinking they do. Not everything seems appealing, some of it is strange, but overall, the fascination prevails. The newly discovered music becomes an uplifting companion, and that for a long time. The oeuvre of Paramore and Hayley Williams must also be explored song by song, album by album, video by video. Here are five more tips to get you started:
“Now” A song from earlier times – stirring alternative rock with an anthemic chorus: “If there’s a future we want it NOW!” The equally stirring video depicts a brutal war scenario. Hayley Williams ends the violence – naively and poignantly at the same time – with a hug…
“Hard Times” Beguiling groove, depressive lyrics – a deliberate contradiction. The video, however, exudes humor and joie de vivre. One of Paramore’s biggest hits – occasionally heard on German radio too.
“Leave It Alone” Starts out ordinary, almost boring, but soon develops a meditative pull. The video is one of the more bizarre kinds; the lyrics speak of loss and the truth that kills. And yet, the will to live resonates here too; the song’s self can’t let go: “Can’t leave it alone”…
“Running Out of Time” This is what Paramore sounded like recently, rhythmically and sonically sophisticated, even slightly experimental. The lyrics are about a person who is completely out of sorts, feels overwhelmed, and is constantly late, also in a figurative sense. In the nonetheless entertaining video, reality becomes a morbid fantasy show – Alice is greeting from Wonderland. Yes, we’re constantly panting after inhuman expectations. And no, this band isn’t interested in trivial, everything-is-easy messages.
“Watch Me While I Bloom” But that’s also what Hayley Williams can sound like – joyful, confident, positive. “How lucky I feel to be in my body again… Watch me while I bloom,” the lyrics go, all over a cheerful groove. And one hopes that Paramore and Williams will continue to bloom for a while longer.
