I’ve got to hand it to Last.fm. Not only are do they fill my speakers with new and interesting music, but they even manage to get me out of the house once in a while.

Last week, when I was killing time  browsing my profile, they kindly informed me that Emiliana Torrini (you’ve heard her if you’ve heard the ending theme of The Two Towers) was playing at the Hiro Ballroom on Saturday. Before you could say “Ticketmaster”, I scooped up a couple of tickets and dragged a friend of mine down to Chelsea for a chance to see the Icelandic diva in person.

We waited nearly an hour in an evening so crispy it could cut your fingers. But as is always the case in New York City, the wait was not without event. Turns out the guy in front of me is a Lehman alum, currently working for Barclays Capital. After briefly reminiscing on old times, I found out that his team is using an application I wrote just before being shown the door.

What were the chances? - Ladies and gentlemen – I officially have a legacy!

I suppose that would go over really well in an interview (”See that trading app over there? Yeah, that was me…can you guys let me back in now?”), but as my friend quickly interjected – “Are you sure you want to work there again?”

Who knows? These days, I’ve learned to go with the flow (as long as it isn’t taking me over a waterfall).

But I digress. As we in the standing room tip-toed to get a glimpse of her, Ms. Torrini pretty much sang most of the songs from her last two albums Fisherman’s Woman and Me and Armini, in her hauntingly icy voice that yes, sounds somewhat like Bjork’s. These ranged from folksy (”Lifesaver”, “Nothing Brings Me Down”), to the reggae-influenced “Me and Armini”, to power-pop (”Jungle Drum”, “Gun”). She did an admirable job on all of these, but did best when her backing band hung back, and let her expressive voice weave itself around finger-plucked chords.

She can be a bit of a diva, though (no pun intended?) It was mildly amusing watching her get flustered after one of the guitars unexpectedly went out of tune, and after a fan demanded she perform “Unemployed in Summertime“.

Perhaps the best part – bought a copy of “Me and Armini” from her tour manager for only $10 after the show. I’ve been listening to it all day today – I highly recommend it. This is what the music business should be like – an interchange between artist and fan; reasonable rates for top-quality music, no fat-cat music execs to keep warm.

And I’m not exaggerating. If you’re one of my Last.fm buddies, you probably understand just how obsessed I am with his music – apparently I listen to him twice as much as any other artist! Most of you will remember him (if you do), for his 1996 single “Barely Breathing“, which stayed on the Top 20 for more than a year. That was a great single, but his skills as a singer-songwriter have come so far since then that it would be a shame if you never listened to his later material.

The show’s opening was a pleasant surprise – none other than Lauren Pritchard, whom theater buffs will recognize as Ilse from Sheik’s musical Spring Awakening. As it turns out, she too is a singer-songwriter of considerable talent, who was writing and performing even before her Broadway debut. She played quite a few of her own songs, including “Fallin’“, “Traffic“, and “Somebody Won’t“, all of which did a nice job at highlighting her smoky, precociously soulful voice – best described as resembling that of Joss Stone, or a huskier version of Alicia Keys’. Her stage presence is shy, almost awkward, though she did eventually warm up to the audience – not too difficult, considering most were already fans of her Broadway performance. According to her MySpace page, Pritchard plans to release an album at the end of the year – something to look forward to.

But it was Sheik we came to see, and taking the stage, he did not disappoint. Working with an eclectic band (including piano, electric guitar, cello, and even a french horn!), his part of the show struck a nice balance between his older material (”Such Reveries”, “On a High“, “Home“), songs from Spring Awakening (”Mama Who Bore Me“, “The Dark I Know Well“, “Touch Me“, (both with Holly Brook and Lauren Pritchard) “I Don’t Do Sadness/Blue Wind“, with Lauren Pritchard), and totally new material. The beauty of Duncan Sheik’s music lies in the intimate expressiveness of his voice and his deeply personal lyrics, and though he has matured considerably as an artist, it was great to see him recapture the spirit of songs released more than 12 years ago. My only complaint is that he didn’t perform any material from his sophomore album “Humming” or 2001’s “Phantom Moon” – a performance of his self-effacing “Nothing Special” would have been divertingly ironic, and I think the frenzied, tortured energy of “Mouth on Fire” would have shone on stage.

Also a pleasure to listen to were several songs from Sheik’s upcoming musical “Whisper House”, which eschews Spring Awakening’s adolescents to tell the story of Christopher, an eleven-year-old boy who moves to a haunted lighthouse after losing his father during World War II. This time around, Sheik provides both the music and lyrics; probably a good thing for this story, considering how confusingly abstract Steven Sater’s words from Spring Awakening could be. The songs ranged from a touching explanation of the necessity of death (”Earthbound Starlight”, with Holly Brook), existential humor (”We Don’t Believe in You”, during which ghosts disavow the boy’s existence), to one of many macabre, tongue-in-cheek ghost stories (”The Tale of Solomon Snell”). The project will culminate in two forms – a Keith Powell-directed musical production at the Delaware Theater Company (in April 2009), and a Duncan Sheik (not cast recording) album, to be released in January. Here’s hoping the production makes a stop at Broadway!

Onstage, Duncan Sheik’s discipline and attention to detail were visible in the seven different guitars he used that night, as well as his near laser focus on his music – except for interludes explaining the Whisper House songs, he spoke little, and rarely about anything other than the next song. At the same time, he was cheerfully laid back, not above poking good-natured fun at himself, his bandmates, or Broadway (”So after all the naughty/bad stuff happens in Spring Awakening, they all sing a song and feel better about it. I have this Broadway thing figured out!”). Casually dressed in a vest, plaid shirt, and jeans, he had a warm rapport with the audience; we might have been in a studio jam session, not one of New York’s historical venues. Though I believe his music remains sadly underrated, it was great to spend the evening with Duncan in all three of his masks – the pop star, the Tony-winning composer, and the introspective songwriter.

Your reward for reading to the end of this? Another link – Duncan Sheik and Holly Brook performing “Earthbound Starlight” and “She Runs Away” on Live 100.5 in Birmingham.

I still consider myself a Koop-a Troopa (sorry, couldn’t resist!), but while cruising their Last.fm page the other day, I found an interesting case of musician-fan disconnect. Apparently the artists themselves have registered on the site to voice their discontent with their presentation on Last.fm. I’ll let their words speak for themselves.

therealkoop wrote:
Koop would like to remind people that this is not a sight set up by Koop. * Songs are missing on albums, and names are wrong. * Videos for some songs are missing, and has been replaced by amature stuff. * Some tags are beyond stupid, and since that the so called “Koop Radio” is playing music we don’t like at all. People behind this is not only making money on our music, they are also humiliating us artisticly. If you wish to connect with Koop please turn to myspace.com/koop Sincerely.

Fair enough – There are hundreds of artists on Last.fm, and a lot of the site content is user-generated (go Web 2.0!), so there are prone to be errors here and there. What’s interesting is that they claim the site is “making money off our music” and “humiliating us artisticly [sic]“.

It doesn’t stop there, of course. The internet is serious business. Trying to correct what he perceives as a misunderstanding, another user responds:

gazab wrote:
therealkoop: I think you’ve misunderstood this site completely. Most content on this page is generated by us, your fans. Our listening patterns generate similiar artists and therefor the “Koop Radio”, we set the tags and so on. The main purpose of Last.fm is simply to help people find new exciting music they like. Without this page I would never have heard about you! So be glad this exists. This has probably given you way more new fans (and money) than myspace ever could. Trust me, this is NOT bad PR. Now continue make great music!

To which therealkoop responds:

therealkoop wrote:
We don’t make music because we want to be liked by as meny as possible. We don’t do this for money. We make music because we want our message to come across, and our message is clearly beeing outwatered on this site. We don’t think Koop should be defined by a broad majority that listen briefly to our music. Koop should be defined by the minority that regard us as something more than 2 songs in a lastfm library.

Needless to say, I was shocked and amused. But this begs the title question of the post: What’s the artist got to do with it, anyway? More specifically, how much should the artist’s wishes affect our enjoyment of his/her/their work?

Don’t get me wrong – I’m all for protecting artistic integrity and intellectual property – if someone trolled this site for my photographs, not giving me credit, and thus violating the terms of even my very generous Creative Commons license, I would be pissed. After all, if art is the window through which we see into the artist’s creative world, it’s pretty damned important to keep that window spotless.

But once our audience is at the window, the fact is that we can’t control how they perceive our work – nor should we try. Attempting to force a particular interpretation or view onto our audience would be as dictatorial as trying to prosecute thoughtcrime; not only would it stifle often productive critical discussion, art would be dull if there were only one or two interpretations to any given work.

Ultimately, though, if you’re worried about your “message being outwatered”, it might pay to have faith in your fans. Of course, there will be those with only a passing interest in your work, but if you make yourself available, you might be surprised to find that some will actually take the effort to see for themselves what you’re about.

As I write this, my eyes are getting heavier by the minute; the clock ticks perilously to 2 AM, and every fiber of my being is calling for the warm bed behind me. But I dare not finish the day before telling you about my awesome evening – getting to hear Emilie Simon (a noted French pop/electronica artist) perform live in New York!

The venue was The Cutting Room, conveniently located at 19 West 24th Street (between Broadway and 6th). That’s the place co-owned by Chris Noth and Steve Walter. It’s a pleasant, if austere space, with concert posters in the window, candlelit tables, and a Pac Man arcade near the door. You might not be able to hear your date over the oldies blasted from every corner, but at least the ribs are pretty tasty.

At nearly 10:30 (more than 45 minutes the show was supposed to start!), we packed into the cramped music room, and watched Ms. Simon take the stage. Her presence is friendly; demure, but always focused, which is just as well, because as a one-woman act, she produces a whole band’s worth of sounds. She is a technician just as much as a musician – she sings, tickles the ivories, and periodically crosses the stage to adjust the machine producing her beats. But make no mistake – her main instrument is her ethereal soprano voice, which at once channels naivete and an irrepressible energy.

Among the songs she sang that evening was a remix of “Never Fall in Love”. But far more interesting were the new songs she’s been writing during her stay in New York – there’s “Chinatown” – a dark, pulsating dance-influenced track sprinkled with familiar Asian motifs, and “Rainbow”, which was cheerfully upbeat, both in rhythm, melody, and lyrics. I can’t wait to hear these when they’re released!

It’s one thing to listen to your favorite artists at home, on your iPod, or while getting through another soul-draining workday. But live music is definitely a nice change of pace – getting to see how the musical magic is made; feeling each beat as it shakes the walls, pulsing through your very bones. From then on, music ceases to be simple push-button entertainment – it becomes a part of you life’s experience, inextricably tied to your own story. And now Ms. Simon is part of mine.

Thanks to April for introducing me to her music!