Mumford and Sons. Thanks to some urging to give them a listen by Orange Rottweiler, I finally did so on Sunday night and could not believe what I was hearing. Not since 2005 ("All these things that I’ve done" – The Killers)have I listened to a song on repeat, and "Little Lion Man" was just the tune to break the trend. Who’d have suspected that a piano, guitar, banjo and double bass would sound so captivating when played together like these four London lads do so? Mumford and Son’s album is the best music I have heard in years and has made me so happy and excited about sound again after a lo-o-o-o-o-o-ong period of music death. Cherry on top – the drummer from ‘The Killers’ is going to team up the Mumford and Sons on their next album, I’ve read. Can’t wait.
Complicite’s A Disappearing Number. This play was broadcast under the auspices of NT Live in the UK, and was screened at Rosebank’s Cinema Nouveau recently. I loved it, mostly for the innovate way the actors used the set and their voices and their bodies to tell the story about the beauty of maths, love and loss. The only aspect that was lost on me was the alleged strong friendship between two mathematicians, which formed one of the two primary focusses of the play. The implied strength of this bond didn’t work for me. Still, the rest was quite lovely.
The Pirates of Penzance, a concert version of the Gilbert & Sullivan show, performed by the Johannesburg Festival Orchestra and the Symphony Choir of Johannesburg.
The performance felt like it was the first continuous run-through of the show. Most of the soloists really could NOT sing, which is utterly bizarre in a country in which there are truly wonderful singers. The choir was indistinct and too quiet. The narrator, Harry Sideropoulos, was vaguely irritating, though perhaps that was a result of the script, written by Alan Swerdlow, which was predictable and actually a little embarrassing in its reliance on simplified (simplistic, actually) SA politics, in order to get laughs. It felt like a pantomime. We left at interval to eat cake, instead.
Ray White. He continues to lazily slur his way through radio news bulletin after news bulletin. I actively change stations when I hear him, and very soon will not be returning to it at all.