Wednesday 24 October 2012

The Broken City: Political Realities

In my last post about my role-playing game, The Broken City, I talked a lot about the in-game mechanics for determining character and background, and how these two basic choices (Path and Order) have a big impact on the player characters. I also made a brief mention of the fact that I altered the background slightly for my game, and here I'll explore what I changed, and how it affects the game world.

  I talked a lot about Paths and Orders in my last post, but there's one further category the players and other characters get sorted into in the game - their cabal. If your Path is roughly analogous to something like your race or your star-sign, and your Order is where you work or study, your Cabal is your group of friends. Your players can easily belong to different Paths and Orders in a Mage game (in fact, it's encouraged) but having them in different Cabals is a whole other matter - it essentially means your player's characters don't like to hang out with each other. No-one cares if Thor is a Norse god while Iron Man uses technology, or Willow studies at university while Giles works at the magic shop, as long as they still hang out and kick ass.

  In most Mage games, the superhero comparison is fairly apt when describing the relationships between different Cabals (the one made up by your players, and the others you create to fill up the world). The Avengers and the X-Men and the Fantastic Four might get into conflict occasionally, or have different agendas, but they're mostly content to take care of their own business and leave each other alone. However, my initial conception of the game, and in fact the thing that first made me want to run it, was a very different world.

  When I was thinking about the game in the early stages of planning, and describing it to potential players, my pitch was "Harry Potter meets Game of Thrones meets Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere", and the final, unspoken part of that equation was "...meets The Warriors". I wanted the cabals that the players encountered to be at minimum rivals, or at worst bitter enemies.



  Cabals are usually kept in line by the "Consilium" - a sort of ruling council of mages made up of representatives from all the cabals in the area, but for the purposes of my game, I decided that the Consilium had fallen apart due to rivalries, grudges and infighting, so London was sort of a magical Wild West, with very few people there enforcing the laws, and groups of mages fighting over territory and magical resources.

  This obviously immediately ups the stakes considerably for the players - instead of being welcomed into a stable environment where most people are trust-worthy and willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, they're instead dropped into a world where everyone is out for themselves and there is little safe ground to go to.

  Because the Orders are made up of the local mages, this also affects them - it's hard to keep an organisation running when the members all want to fight each other. This meant I shrank the Orders down to a few core members each who gave up their cabal affiliation, making the Orders less about large training facilities and more about one-on-one mentorship and developing a few key characters for each one.

  My players haven't encountered the cabals much yet - I introduced a sort of grace period when they couldn't be approached by other cabals to give the players a chance to get used to being mages and develop relationships with each other and the orders. However, that will soon end, and it will be interesting to see how they cope with suddenly being plunged into what is a very political aspect of the game, dealing with alliances, deals and betrayal. I'm hoping they're up for the challenge, and find the whole thing fun, because it's a large part of what makes up this particular world, and how this game functions.

  In my next post, I'll provide some more details about the world I've created, and the characters who populate it...

Friday 19 October 2012

Play To Z: Get Awkward to Hate Me For A Reason, Let The Reason Be Hate

Some Observations

Get Happy!! by Elvis Costello and the Attractions is another 50 track beast of an album, consisting of around 22 songs, then 28 live, alternate and demo versions of the same tracks. It's a sign of what great pop music the man writes that they album flew by with relative speed.

  You can hate on me all you want, but the Apollo 440 theme for the terrible 1998 film version of Lost In Space is great. It's very much of its time, but that doesn't stop it from being a brass-fueled triumphant stonker.

  "Drinking In LA" by Bran Van 3000 and "Steal My Sunshine" by Len are seperated by one song on my iTunes (the former is from their album Glee, the latter from the soundtrack to the film Go) which is appropriate, because they are forever linked in my mind as a premier examples of 90s power-pop (see also "Get What You Give" by The New Radicals).


   As I previously noted, mixtapes are a big thing with me, and creative projects I undertake often get a soundtrack built for them. The role-playing game I'm currently running (and have been chronicling here in all the posts that aren't about music) was no exception, and a CD of said mix was given to all 5 players as a sort of "mood piece" to get their brains in the right space. "The Good, The Bad and The Queen", the self-titled song from the self-titled album, was the conclusion to the mix, but in truth, the whole album could have served as a soundtrack to the game. I find it incredibly evocative of London, using a fantastic mix of ancient tradition and symbolism combined with more contemporary rhythms that reflect the diversity of our nation's capital. It's a great album that seemed to fail to capture people's attention when it came out, which is a great shame.

  When I was around 19, my "hangover" routine was solid (I use quotation marks because I now know you don't start getting true hangovers until you're at least 22). I would wake up, usually after a night at The Waterfront (Norwich's alternative club), wander into the city, and have a black Americano and a blueberry muffin while listening to "Where I'm Calling From" by Charlotte Hatherley. It served me pretty well.


  The memory I associate with the Beck album Guero is far too long and too potentially incriminating to go into here. If you get me a little drunk, I may divulge it.

Getting By With Help

  Let's talk about my friends.

  They are a pretty wonderful bunch of human beings, and I owe them too much to even comprehend, but large chunks of my musical taste is included in that. I've lost count of the number of bands or songs I've been introduced to by people I know, not to mention the number of truly indelible memories that have music associated with them, whether it's gigs, moments soundtracked by music or simply dancing down Magdalen Street singing "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" while drunk as hell.

  This chunk of music proved particularly fertile for friend connections, both "real life" and web-based, so let's briefly dissect it...

  • Husky Rescue first appeared on my radar thanks to a mixtape from Catherine, who then lent me their album Ghost Is Not Real.
  • My knowledge of K-Pop is entirely thanks to Mary on Tumblr, hence "Hoot" by Girls Generation.
  • "Glitter Shower" is a great 50-minute mix of self-proclaimed makeout music by Internet acquaintance Miles.
  • Similarly, Charlie, who I met through friends in San Francisco, makes wonderful electronica under the name Ring Trick, and put out a perfectly chilled hour-long mash-up called "Greetings From Paris".
  • Housemate, BFF and solid gold pal Bret produced a fantastic mixtape of alcohol-based songs for his birthday a couple of years back, which shares it's name with his WoW guild, The Guild of Drunkards. He even commissioned an original song to serve as the guild's anthem.
  • Stone cold hustla and Caballero Joey, who I met via the Brian K Vaughan message board back in the day then met in person when I was in the States, is most generous. After sending him a few mixtapes in dribs and drabs, he returned the favour with a jumbo pack: h Destruction, a selection of hits ranging from The Clash to The Bloody Beetroots; h Remixed, with remixes from some of house and electronica's masters; and h YYY/BIG, an inspired mixtape of Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Notorious BIG, which work surprisingly well placed up against each other.
  • Sweetest gent in the world Nick provided me with a Happy Christmas Trivia Lad album, using the song title's to form the mixtape's name. For this thoughtful act, I will forgive him including "Young At Heart" by The Bluebells on there.
  • Finally, the earlier mentioned Miles is in a great band called LookiMakeMusic, and the final songs in this slice come from their EP Hate Me For A Reason, Let The Reason Be Hate. You can find it on their Bandcamp page here.
Rediscovered Gem

"Remedy" by Little Boots

Friday 12 October 2012

Play To Z: Fever To Tell to Gershwin: Rhapsody In Blue

Hey there, pop fans. It's been a while since the last entry, but my slackness in writing has been matched by my slackness in listening, so I haven't got a huge breadth of material to wade through. Anyway, on with the show...

Some Observations

  I wasn't involved enough with the music scene to know of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs as an up-and-coming band. I presume there were demos and EPs and buzz, but without all that preamble, it's remarkable listening to Fever To Tell and seeing just how fully formed they were when they truly "arrived". It helps, I'm sure, to have such a dynamic, iconic frontperson in Karen O, someone who truly embodies the band and so articulates their vision and aesthetic on another level, but still - their sound is right there, without hesitation or faltering steps. It's the kind of record that pushes open the double doors and walks into the room like it owns it.

  Electric Six are a curious beast, seemingly dedicated to recreating a period that I'm not sure ever existed. The belong in a universe where the porn-y sleaze of the 70s, the pulsing synths of the 80s and the freedom of sexual identity of the 90s all happened simultaneously, probably while John Waters was President. It's a credit to their purity of vision that one can vividly picture this parallel dimension when listening to them. I'm not sure I'd want to live in it, but I'd be happy to spend a wild weekend there.



  The Fountain was one of the most profound cinematic experiences I've had, and the astonishing soundtrack by Clint Mansell is a huge part of that. Like many great soundtracks, it takes a strong central theme and builds a score around explorations of that core melody. Mansell moves from heartbreaking to oppressive to terrifying to tragic to glorious apotheosis effortlessly, blending piano and string movements into a cohesive whole. The album reaches its climax with "Death Is The Road To Awe", which soundtracks the film's conclusion. It's a piece that punches straight through your chest. I heartily recommend both the film and soundtrack to everyone.

  Most of the music I own falls squarely into the "pop" category, or at least that's where you'd find it in HMV. Folk, world, jazz and classical don't get much of a show in my iTunes library, but one of the notable exceptions is George Gershwin's Rhapsody In Blue. It sits in the sweet spot between jazz and classical, taking the pace and passion of the former and the structure and discipline of the latter. It's an incredibly evocative piece that cannot help but say "New York" to anyone who listens to it. The record I own containing it also has Gershwin's Piano Concerto in F, the main theme from "An American In Paris" and Variations on "I Got Rhythm", a fantastic sampler of one of the great American composers.

You Gotta Hear 'Em Live

  While this little project may be a comprehensive look at all the music I own, it only tells half the story when it comes to my musical life. Gigs and live music are a big part of how we experience music, and I'm no different. I don't get to see as much as I'd like, due to Norwich's relative isolation from the rest of England and the attendant costs of live music, and I always feel guilty that I'm not more in tune with our local music scene, which seems pretty thriving. That said, I thought I'd take a break from analysing my records to go over my favourite gigs.

Those Dancing Days at XOYO, London - Some bands impress with their ability to take familiar songs and turn them into entirely new creatures when they perform them live. Those Dancing Days simply take their songs and make them more so. As a band they are tighter than tight, never putting a foot wrong, but rather than being soulless reproductions of the studio albums, the live atmosphere and electrifying passion of the band ramped the songs up to a whole other level.

The Go! Team at The Waterfront, Norwich - The Go! Team are one of those bands that work extremely well live, thanks to their catchy, cheerleader style songs that get the crowd moving with almost cult-like efficiency and the fact that every member of the band is a multi-instrumentalist, so they have a hilarious tendency to swap instruments between or even during songs. But what really made this gig was being beside my friend Jason, dancing from the second the band hit the stage until the last note hummed to a finish.

Eels at the Royal Festival Hall, London - Seeing the Eels at the Royal Festival Hall was an experience unlike any other gig before or since. We were seated, which can be the death knell at a gig, but worked wonderfully here. The night was billed as "An Evening with the Eels" and that's what it was - rather than a opening act, we watched a BBC4 documentary about Mark "E" Everett investigating his late father's scientific research (he developed the idea of parallel universes), and thanks to his easygoing, hypnotic stage presence and talent for storytelling, the audience was kept entranced the whole night.

Bruce Springsteen at Hyde Park, London - Bruce Springsteen turned 60 the year I saw him, but you wouldn't know from the 3 1/2 hour long show he put on in Hyde Park, showing the kind of energy and charisma that only true rock stars have. Seeing such an iconic artist perform in the festival-like surroundings of the park in the midst of summer created a wonderful atmosphere, with every audience member singing along to the triumphant anthems but respectfully quiet during his more melancholic numbers.

Arcade Fire at Greek Theatre, Berkeley - The atmosphere at Hyde Park was great, but nothing will ever equal the amazing crowd at the Greek Theatre. The sense of camaraderie and shared joy amongst the concert-goers was infectious and all-consuming - the wave of positive energy filled up the venue even before Arcade Fire took to the stage. And when they did, they performed like men and women possessed, climbing the scaffolding while drumming, leading the crowd through megaphones and generally kicking every kind of musical ass. We were lucky enough to be perhaps three or four rows back from the front, roughly 10ft from the stage, and when the final surge forward happened as "Rebellion (Lies)" started playing, it wasn't the aggressive, macho shove I've experienced at other gigs, but somehow as inclusive and comforting as a friendly bear hug. It was a truly unique gig, and I doubt anything will ever match it.

Rediscovered Gem

"Submission" by Ash

Monday 1 October 2012

Play To Z: Drastic Fantastic to Feel Good Lost

This is the first time I've managed to cover an entire letter in one of these posts, and it's not even the biggest chunk of music I've covered. "E" proved to be the shortest letter so far, but that's not to say it's been bereft of great music.

Some Observations

"Dueling Banjos" from Deliverance has so successfully lodged itself into popular culture as an indicator of redneck, backwoods locations that I'd wager most would recognise it, but few will have actually listened to the blistering skill displayed by the two musicians. It's one of those songs you're tempted to keep rewinding because you can't quite believe the talent on display.

Blondie's "Atomic" remains an essential piece of new wave beauty. One of the most flawless songs of its era, it doesn't put a foot wrong, weaving the propulsive beat and bass line with Debbie Harry's almost gospel-like delivery of the lyrics and that instantly recognisable guitar riff.



The Weeknd's trilogy of mixtapes peaked early with House of Balloons, but Echoes of Silence still has plenty of great songs on it, especially his slow, paranoia-infused cover of "Dirty Diana" by Michael Jackson.

"A Better Son-Daughter" is one of the best and most accurate portraits of depression I can think of. There's a weird catharsis in listening to someone explain how you're feeling more precisely than you ever could yourself.

Fantastic Playroom by New Young Pony Club is a great album that I always forget to listen to more. It's kind of weightless, but it's sexy electro-pop fun, so you don't exactly want it diving into existentialism, and it's short enough that it doesn't repeat itself or outweigh it's welcome. It's a perfectly formed sly little treat.

Intention, Meaning and the Five Star Rating

I was listening to Feel Good Lost today, Broken Social Scene's 2001 debut, from back when they were at their most ambient and instrumental and it got me thinking about intention in music, and applying Barthes' "Death of the Author" thesis to music.

  Rather than give everything on iTunes a star rating, which sounds exhausting and doesn't allow for a lot of factors, I simply give things no stars or 5 stars. 5 stars means a song meets a loose set of ill-formed criteria; am I happy to listen to this song no matter my mood? Does it have enough of a musical identity to make it easy to recognise? Does it have some emotional connection or effect on me? Is it, for want of a better term, great?

  Some albums manage to be great but lack in 5 star tracks. For example, Electro-Shock Blues by Eels is an album I would point to as being fantastic, but only about half the songs merit 5 stars. The rest, while no means bad, don't stick in my mind enough to warrant 5 stars, but help make up the overall meaning and atmosphere of the album. Some songs can be the key to understanding a record or even an artist, but fail to tick some box somewhere in my brain.



  The problem Feel Good Lost presented is that, as a piece of largely instrumental, ambient post-rock, it sort of blends together and fades into the background, but that is, I'd imagine, the intention. As an album, it's meant to create this sort of dreamlike, meandering etherium, and it does so entirely successfully, but few individual tracks stand out. It's a good album, but that doesn't translate to great tracks.

  So, when I'm thinking about marking a track down as "great" in my own personal tally system, do I take into account where a track sits in the wider context of an album? Do I allow for an artists' intention? For how they want the track to be consumed? If I do, then how? And if I don't, then that album will, in all likelihood, be listened to less. It's a tricky proposition, and one without an easy answer.

Ho hum.

Rediscovered Gem

"Can't Do Nuttin' For You Man" by Public Enemy