Claude Debussy’s Prélude à l’Après-Midi d’un Faune (1894)

When I was a boy I got some piano lessons from my grandma, whose creaky piano had been a feature of her back room for as long as I could remember, and although my progress was limited (and permanently arrested at age thirteen when I discovered the guitar), I retain some vivid memories: my grandma singing the music hall favourite Two Lovely Black Eyes in her trademark falsetto, as well as Edelweiss from The Sound Of Music and the military march song Men Of Harlech (after which, for a period, she would address me as Dai Bach, or ‘little David’ in Welsh, as if recalling familial roots that never existed). I would faithfully learn these songs on the piano, whilst leaving the unique singing to her.

Another piece of music I recall practising in those years was Claude Debussy’s Clair De Lune. No doubt every erstwhile piano student does. It’s a haunting and lovely tune, for sure, and later I was to learn that Debussy was a veritable master of the haunting and lovely tune. He had an astonishing ability to translate the natural world into sound for orchestral and solo piano music. Listen to La Mer, for example, one of many pieces Debussy wrote about water: it’s easy to discern the ‘sound’ of the play of light on water. The evocative musical imagery captured so cleverly in such compositions as Rêverie, Images, Préludes, Études and Nocturnes led him to be dubbed the first Impressionist composer, the musical equivalent of Monet, Cézanne and Renoir (he was none too happy with the term by all accounts, but I’d have taken it).

My favourite evocation, though, as a fan of the pastoral and bucolic, is Prélude à l’Après-Midi d’un Faune. Based on Stéphane Mallarmé’s symbolist poem of the same name, the Prélude conjures up a dream-like world of idyllic woodland thick with summer haze, in which sprawls a lethargic faun, waking from reverie. If you don’t know it from its title, you’ll know it when you hear it from the excerpt below (it’s been used all over the shop). Oh, to be a faun in a mythological Greek summer landscape! Beats working…

Claude Debussy

Saturday Night Live’s More Cowbell Sketch (2000)

The American late-night live television sketch comedy show, Saturday Night Live, has been a launchpad for many a career since its first broadcast in 1975. Although it’s not the staple here in the UK that it clearly is in the States, we are very aware of its cultural significance and we can marvel at the names that have passed through the ranks of its cast: John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Gilda Radner, Chevy Chase, Bill Murray, Eddie Murphy, Billy Crystal, Christopher Guest, Dana Carvey, Mike Myers, Chris Rock, Adam Sandler, Norm Macdonald, Will Ferrell, Sarah Silverman, Tina Fey…

The classic sketches that the show has spawned over the years are as many and varied as its extensive cast list, and it’s fun to peruse Rolling Stone’s “50 Greatest Saturday Night Live Sketches of All Time”. My number one is Rolling Stone’s number nine but let’s not quibble: More Cowbell is comedy gold, however you rank it. The sketch aired on 8th April 2000 and it’s safe to say that the stars aligned that night.

The sketch was written by regular cast member Will Ferrell who was inspired by an episode of VH1’s Behind the Music documenting the band Blue Öyster Cult and their 1976 recording of their biggest hit, (Don’t Fear) The Reaper. Ferrell reimagines the scene, with Christopher Walken as fictional legendary music producer Bruce Dickinson, himself as fictional cowbell player Gene Frenkle, and with other SNL cast members (Chris Parnell, Jimmy Fallon, Chris Kattan, Horatio Sanz) playing the real Blue Öyster Cult members. What followed was to go down in SNL history.

Christopher Walken’s character introduces himself as Bruce Dickinson (“Yes, the Bruce Dickinson“) and tells the band that they have “what appears to be a dynamite sound“. The band are in awe of him, and he doesn’t do too much to dispel the belief that he is indeed a legendary producer: “Easy guys, I put my pants on just like the rest of you, one leg at a time…except, once my pants are on, I make gold records!”. Walken’s delivery is sublime.

The first take seems to go well but the band stops playing due to being distracted by Gene’s overzealous cowbell playing. Dickinson, to the surprise of most of the band, asks for “a little more cowbell” and urges Gene to “really explore the studio space this time“. Gene’s exuberance in following instructions only causes more distraction and the band aborts another take, but Bruce doubles down on his insistence that “I gotta have more cowbell!” and the absurdity continues hilariously.

The characters, the timing, and the dialogue are all to a tee, and even the actors’ attempts to avoid corpsing during the sketch add to the thrill – just watch Jimmy Fallon shoving his drumsticks into his mouth to (vainly) cover his giggles! Enjoy the sketch (in 2 parts) below…

More Cowbell