Cooking up a Storm
[Originally published in BMA Magazine, November 2012]
My first encounter with ADAM COOK occurred well before actually I met him. For the better part of a year, on almost every occasion on which I visited a certain friend, I was inadvertently treated to the most indescribably mesmerizing keyboard notes, which emanated from the room of her prodigious, if somewhat elusive, mystery housemate. Without wishing to disturb someone I was pretty convinced to be some kind of cloaked (possibly masked) genius, I contentedly indulged in this musical mastery for months without ever seeking the source. The moment of revelation finally came during one of their many house parties at which I was informed that the face behind this phantom composer belonged to none other than the anonymous sharp-witted and gregarious punch-spiking accomplice beside me. Since then, I’ve never once viewed classical music (or ambiguous party cocktails…) in the same vein.
Having become increasingly familiar with Adam’s diverse and adventurous musical endeavours over the years, I now cringe at my former stereotyping of classically trained musicians and negligence of the wide-ranging, accessible sounds of which they are capable – and frequently embrace. For those who remain otherwise unconvinced, Adam’s most recent project will deliver the bitch-slap of enlightenment you deserve. This Thursday, Adam, accompanied by his band, The Monotremes (with whom many will be familiar through gigs at The Polish Club, Phoenix Bar, The Front, Dragon Dreaming Festival ’11 & ’12) will present the 1927 Poulenc Harpsichord Concerto, with an added flavour – or ten.
‘I'm keeping the original harpsichord part, but transcribing the orchestra to flute, clarinet, violin, trumpet, baritone sax, two keyboards, bass guitar, and drum kit with extended percussion like guiro, tambourine, castanets and more,’ Adam casually describes. ‘I’m also adding a whole bunch of effects like wah-wah, phasers and delay to the solo part and the other keyboard will play all kinds of weird samples, like orchestral hits, xylophone and synth-brass. The sound will probably be quite cheesy, but also extremely diverse, in terms of colour and genre.’
This outwardly whimsical concept was, in fact, developed after much consideration, in an attempt to balance both academic obligations and his core musical ideology. ‘I needed to perform a concerto to finish my Honours degree and I'd been studying Busoni's writings on musical philosophy – namely how music should be always new and experimental; this is my attempt to do that,’ Adam explains. ‘Poulenc is a solid composer and his music works well with the band, so this is a way to do what I need to for uni, but perform it in a way that's a bit more exciting and relevant.’
With far-reaching appeal and a sound that’s sure to stimulate classical music traditionalists and novices alike, the ultimate question remains: What would Poulenc think? ‘I'd like to think that he'd like it, but realistically he'd probably just say it's OK, because he'd have to, because he's French. I can deal with that.’
Having become increasingly familiar with Adam’s diverse and adventurous musical endeavours over the years, I now cringe at my former stereotyping of classically trained musicians and negligence of the wide-ranging, accessible sounds of which they are capable – and frequently embrace. For those who remain otherwise unconvinced, Adam’s most recent project will deliver the bitch-slap of enlightenment you deserve. This Thursday, Adam, accompanied by his band, The Monotremes (with whom many will be familiar through gigs at The Polish Club, Phoenix Bar, The Front, Dragon Dreaming Festival ’11 & ’12) will present the 1927 Poulenc Harpsichord Concerto, with an added flavour – or ten.
‘I'm keeping the original harpsichord part, but transcribing the orchestra to flute, clarinet, violin, trumpet, baritone sax, two keyboards, bass guitar, and drum kit with extended percussion like guiro, tambourine, castanets and more,’ Adam casually describes. ‘I’m also adding a whole bunch of effects like wah-wah, phasers and delay to the solo part and the other keyboard will play all kinds of weird samples, like orchestral hits, xylophone and synth-brass. The sound will probably be quite cheesy, but also extremely diverse, in terms of colour and genre.’
This outwardly whimsical concept was, in fact, developed after much consideration, in an attempt to balance both academic obligations and his core musical ideology. ‘I needed to perform a concerto to finish my Honours degree and I'd been studying Busoni's writings on musical philosophy – namely how music should be always new and experimental; this is my attempt to do that,’ Adam explains. ‘Poulenc is a solid composer and his music works well with the band, so this is a way to do what I need to for uni, but perform it in a way that's a bit more exciting and relevant.’
With far-reaching appeal and a sound that’s sure to stimulate classical music traditionalists and novices alike, the ultimate question remains: What would Poulenc think? ‘I'd like to think that he'd like it, but realistically he'd probably just say it's OK, because he'd have to, because he's French. I can deal with that.’