AAC-M4A download link: - https://www.mediafire.com/?54nmtk0jngaqfy7 - October, 8th, 2001
The Hummingbird Center
Toronto ON Canada
Source: Core Sound Stealth Cardioid> Sony PCM-M1
transfer: Sony SDT-9000> Vdat> WAV> Samplitude 24/96 (resample to 44.1khz)> mkwACT> SHN V.3
no soundcard input. Sony SDT-9000 is a SCSI DDS dat drive with audio capable firmware
recorded by: martman
posted by; martman
Notes: the CSCs (core sound etc) have lame bass responce. Turn up your bass when you listen to this and you will be quite pleased.
This is the whole show but the tracks are cut slightly differently.
The dates on the tickets are wrong because the show was delayed a day. (see the date on the orchestra pass)
02. All Is Full Of Love
05. It's Not Up To You
06. I've Seen It All
07. Generous Palmstroke
08. Crave/An Echo, A Stain
09. (Tanya Tagaq Throatsinging Solo) + Hidden Place
10. Play Dead
11. You've Been Flirting Again
13. Venus As A Boy
14. Pagan Poetry
16. Army Of Me
18. Human Behaviour
19. It's In Our Hands
re-encoded to AAC-M4A [superiour björklossless sound] by
http://gudmundsdottirbjork.blogspot.com/ - Review
Cheeky Björk's enchanted evening
Hummingbird Centre, Toronto
Who knows what eccentric Icelandic muse inspires Björk Gudmundsdóttir? The mischievous pop pixie with the questionable fashion sense fails easy categorization. Her music, both artful and experimental, does not so much defy convention as subvert it to the needs of her imagination. Her albums have sold millions and she has collaborated with the likes of American rapper RZA and Radiohead front man Thom Yorke. But she is rarely heard on the radio, and her latest CD, Vespertine, is hardly FM-friendly. A mesmerizing mix of digital technology and traditional instrumentation, the album relies on lush orchestration, angelic choral arrangements, electronica and "found sounds" (the shuffling of cards serves as a beat on one song, as does clattering cutlery, clicking cameras and sandpaper on wood) to create what she calls "chamber music for this century."
Björk is unveiling Vespertine to audiences during her first world tour in three years and is playing only smaller venues because she felt the classically tinged music was too intimate for larger settings. So it was that on Monday evening she turned the Hummingbird Centre into a sonic snow globe where Icelandic opera meets performance art, full of fluttery rhythms, digital chatter and snippets of sampled sounds.
Known for her innovative live performances, the sold-out concert -- Björk's only Canadian stop -- included Nunavut throat singer Tanya Tagaq, an 11-member choir from Greenland, the 54-piece Il Novecento Orchestra and harpist Zeena Parkins. Rounding out the mix were electronica duo Matmos (Martin Schmidt and Andrew Daniel), who, in addition to backing up Björk, opened the evening with a cheeky performance of sampled surgical sounds.
But initially, Björk sat alone on-stage, her glittery bluish-white swan dress illuminated only by the light from the orchestra pit. In her lap, the chimes of a music box created the childlike instrumental Frosti as bits of white paper fluttered down like angel feathers.
With that the mood was set, soft and warm and full of sentiment, and worlds apart from the harsher pop conventions of her previous work. Gone were the club-friendly dance vibes of 1993's Debut, her first solo album after leaving the Icelandic post-punk band the Sugarcubes. Gone, too, were the sweeping, dramatic arrangements of 1997's Homogenic. Only last year's Oscar-nominated Selmasongs EP, a heartbreaking soundscape created to accompany Lars von Trier's film Dancer in the Dark, for which Björk also won the best actress award at Cannes, comes close.
Björk approached the rest of the performance like an impetuous child, prancing barefoot about the stage in an arrhythmic Icelandic two-step, her swinging arms adding weight to her gorgeous voice. That voice, at times fragile and trembling, demanded attention. A mere whisper on Unravel, from Homogenic and one of a half-dozen songs not from Vespertine, it soared over Cocoon's skippy beats. Like most of her music, the normal conventions of rhyme and metre were abandoned on the dreamy It's Not Up to You, her closest attempt at being commercial, as she alternated between soaring vocals and croaky mumbling.
It was during An Echo, A Stain that Tagaq first captivated as her melodic ticks, clicks and deep breathing filled the auditorium. And her subsequent solo stole the show as animal growls became the adrenalized panting of love-making, which turned into the gasps of a desperate marathoner, panicked and anxious.
Hidden Place, a subterranean love song and companion to Cocoon, gave way to the lush strings of Il Novecento on Play Dead, which set up the more up-tempo second set that saw Björk decked out in a red ostrich-feather dress.
Starting with You've Been Flirting Again followed by Isobel, Björk enchanted with her poetic lyrics. Further in, the choir was dismissed and the orchestra silenced for a groovy punk version of Army of Me, and on Generous Palmstroke she was accompanied only by the icicle-snapping crispness of Parkins' harp.
Björk returned for just one encore, consisting of Human Behaviour and the as yet unreleased In Our Hands, which had the entire house clapping as she bounded about the stage and shouted into the mic like a petulant girl daring you to scold her. The only punishment was that it ended so quickly.
Snuggling up with Bjork
By ROBERT EVERETT-GREEN
Wednesday, October 10, 2001 – Page R4
At the Hummingbird Centre
in Toronto on Monday
Imagine a couch with an old blanket hanging off the back, and two children hiding behind it, cocooned with their toys and their secrets. We've all been in that hidden place, before we became sophisticated and forgetful enough to need Bjork to recall us to a state of childhood intimacy.
It's warm in there, and cool as well, because the recovered childhood of Bjork's imagination retains an adult knowledge of how bleak things can get when the blanket is removed, the parents become mortal, and the world fills up with harsh daylight.
And so it was cool and warm also in the little den she made of Toronto's Hummingbird Centre, where some 3,000 people huddled behind the blanket with her for the only Canadian concert of her current world tour.
It takes some big magic to shrink the Hummingbird, and like every magician, Bjork made sure of her equipment. There were towering projections of fjord-like shapes on the wall, an orchestra of some 50 players in the pit, a chorus of 12 Inuit singers on the stage and a placeless barrage of grainy viscous sounds produced live by the electronic music duo Matmos (Drew Daniel and Martin Schmidt).
The very large sounds made by these forces filled the hall so completely it began to feel snug, though only Bjork could make it cozy. She has a knack for direct personal address, even when singing to thousands. She challenges you to feel and live as deeply as she does. It's the bride stripping herself bare, waiting for all her bachelors to throw off their camouflage.
The core of her show were the songs from her new album Vespertine. Expanded into a live production, this series of like-sounding tunes on nocturnal subjects became a powerful environment that for a couple of hours completely overwhelmed the world beyond the blanket.
Bjork began the show in her now-famous swan dress, then switched to a red sequined outfit with a vast skirt of ostrich feathers. Her feet were bare, which was probably the most telling detail of her costume. Even at her most ethereal, when singing in a shy voice about "the warmthest cord of care," Bjork retained her contact with the earth. Her most ideal constructions were full of blunt vitality.
Matmos was a good fit, with its preference for gritty, fluid sounds that can sound imposing and playful at once.
And Bjork has made a real find in Tanya Taqaq, a throat singer from Nunavut, whose fevered solo of grunts and cries propelled the single Hidden Place to a level far beyond what the album version could achieve.
The orchestra held a more tenuous place in the mix, at times sounding less natural and live than the stuff pouring out of Matmos's banks of computers and samplers. An on-stage harp (played by Zeena Parkins) was the most successful acoustic instrument, whose definite attack contrasted well with Matmos's often spongy beats.
There were several older songs, including the Oscar-nominated theme from Dancer in the Dark, and the playful single Human Behaviour. In all cases, the original versions were reworked to suit the moment, so successfully that they sometimes sounded like the pre-history of Vespertine. At a time when so many shows sound like the work of human jukeboxes, Bjork refuses to become the servant of her own artifacts. Rather than just confirm what's on Vespertine, she gave it new life and scope.
Bjork simply soars
Icelandic singer goes full out with an orchestra, two sets of feathers and a new song
By JANE STEVENSON -- Toronto Sun
Hummingbird Centre, Toronto
Monday, October 8, 2001
TORONTO -- Bjork, it seems, is always up for a musical challenge.
So the soaring-voiced Icelandic singer brought her dramatic, quirky and totally engaging road show to the Hummingbird Centre last night with a menagerie of unusual guests in tow.
First of all, in the pit below her, a 54-piece orchestra conducted by Simon Lee and comprised of about 70% made up of members of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra .
Then there was cute San Francisco electronic duo Matmos Martin Schmidt and Andrew Daniel, who also served as opening act, and dynamic electric harpist Zeena Parkins on the stage beside Bjork.
Behind her was a sweet sounding Inuit girl choir from Greenland and hip-shaking Canadian throat singer, Tanya Gillis of Cambridge Bay, Victoria Island, who threatened to steal the show with her wildly physical performance, winning smile and general enthusiasm.
Not to mention Bjork's two mind-blowing, feathery outfits and a slideshow backdrop which featured everything from blue ice caps to multi-coloured sea creatures.
The sold-out crowd of 3,200, who snapped up tickets in just one day, can count themselves lucky to have been at a concert unlike anything else this year.
Touring concert halls of Europe and North America in order to achieve the "best acoustics possible," Bjork's only Canadian date was at the Hummingbird Centre.
On the road in support of her latest album, Vespertine, a record heavy on electronica, lush orchestration and choral voices, Bjork first appeared seated on the dark stage in the now infamous "swan" dress, which she wore to the Oscars earlier this year.
(Photographers weren't allowed in until the second set.)
White feathers fell from above while she played the new song Frosti on a music box, then the orchestra kicked in with Overture from last year's Selmasongs, the soundtrack to her astonishing film debut in Dancer In The Dark.
Of the Vespertine material, the highlights were the quietly intense Cocoon and Pagan Poetry, and the more expansive It's Not Up To You and Hidden Place.
Truthfully, though, I like Bjork's 1997 album Homogenic better than almost anything she's released over the years.
So I was partial to the quiet beauty of Unravel and All Is Full Of Love in that first section, and the classical strength of Bachelorette and Joga later on.
Although the sad lament You've Been Flirting Again and the positively liberating Isobel and Hyper-ballad, all from 1995's Post, also ranked right up there, along with the more fun Venus As A Boy and Human Behavior from 1993's Debut.
Following a brief intermission, the second set saw a more rambunctious Bjork decked out in a red glass-and-feather dress that made a tinkling sound whenever she moved -- which was a lot.
She bounced, skipped and danced her way through a great deal of the second half, much to the delight of the audience, some of who joined her -- and the choir -- with handclaps during the show- ending new song, It's In Our Hands.
Much like everything Bjork does, it was pretty infectious.
A Hummingbird moment
Iceland's red-feathered flapper Björk finally flies at sold-out concert
Björk is not about to get swallowed up in a crowd.
Few, if any, of today's pop icons can match the sheer force of the Icelandic diva's idiosyncratic personality.
You can surround her with a full orchestra, a dozen backing vocalists, including a throat singer, a harpist and a pair of noodling electronic gurus, as was the arrangement for last night's sold-out concert at the Hummingbird Centre, and her pixie-like personality will still be the most compelling presence in the room.
In what was the only Canadian date of her current concert hall tour, Björk had the audience hanging on her every hyper-enunciated word, as she worked through two 45-minute sets that relied heavily on her symphonic new album, Verspertine.
It was immediately apparent why she didn't want to subject the delicate tunes from that album to the acoustic hell of club shows in front of half-attentive listeners.
For act one, the singer joined her army of accompanists attired in a slightly more modest version of her Oscar-scandalizing swan get up. Typically, whatever flak she took on that occasion did not faze her enough to resist inviting another round of raised eyebrows.
Introduced by the instrumental music box number, "Frosti," Björk proceeded to work her way through "All Is Love" and "Unravel," two songs from her previous and still best album, Homogenic, before delving into current offerings, "It's Not Up To You" and "Hidden Place," the latter preceded by an extended bit of vocal exotica, courtesy of Tanya Tagaq, an artist and throat singer from Cambridge Bay, Nunavut.
The opening set, while more often than not captivating on the basis of novelty alone, gave the appearance of magic, without actually being much fun. By 20 minutes in, it was beginning to seem that the weight of the enterprise might be its undoing, as the evening threatened to become mired in a kind of avant-Broadway formality.
After the intermission, Björk returned in another bird costume, this one a ruby, feathered outfit that gave her the appearance of a red ostrich. Whatever its fashion points, the change had a liberating effect on Björk, who pranced back and forth across the apron of the stage, allowing her feathered skirt to flap provocatively in her wake.
The music was more robust as well. Early into the second segment, Björk shed any vestiges of reserve and forcefully leaned into "Isobel" from Post, followed by a vamping version of "Venus As A Boy" from Debut, before settling down to "Pagan Poetry" from Vespertine.
Electronic duo Matmos, which seemed to have its own subplot going for much of the evening, with one of the members running his hands suggestively down the other's back at one point, provided the bulk of the accompaniment for "Army Of Me," giving it a Tangerine Dream flavour. At another point, the amplified shuffling of cards was fashioned into a percussive effect.
The second set ended with a throbbing interpretation of Homogenic's "Bachelorette" that made the fussy business of the first half recede in memory.
As pop concerts go, it was daring — maybe even a little over-ambitious — and not always successful. But it was also unmistakably original. In other words, the personification