Word: falsetto
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...Valli wasn't just kidding with his falsetto. It was not pure, not angelic, like the sweet-child voices of Brian and Carl Wilson on such Beach Boys tracks as "In My Room" and "God Only Knows." Valli's had a raspiness that gave his romantic pleas gravel, gravity, balls. This was no castrato, but a grown, yearning heterosexual male whose impossibly high voice set him apart, in tone and content, from the baritone norm, and made him perfect for all the outsider characters he would articulate in the Seasons' hits...
...musical to hear good music that will soon be familiar to the rest of the world, what do you go for? Good old familiar music. Hence Jersey Boys, which recounts the career of the '60s vocal quartet the Four Seasons and their tenor-falsetto lead singer Frankie Valli...
...Start with The Voice. The Four Seasons' sound begins with Valli, who functioned as both the lead tenor and the falsetto backup singer; he told the story and provided the color. What astonished immediately and lastingly was the power of his glass-shattering, dog-dementing falsetto (often multiplied on record by having him dupe his solos on a second track). First time around, hearing "Sherry," listeners may have thought it was a gag. Sometimes he used it for fun, in high-pitched baby talk, as George Rock's comic falsetto had for the vocal in Spike Jones' 1947 novelty...
...stage were Harrison R. Greenbaum ’08—who offered a wise-cracking magic show—and the dance group Impulse. Most groups were lucky enough to gain the audience’s approval. Jared B. Lucas ’09’s clear falsetto rendering of Maxwell’s “This Woman’s Work” was interspersed with whistling, applause, and cries of “That’s right, Jared!” The winning act, featuring the robotic dance moves of Brian...
...first heard the band’s 1999 breakthrough, “Agaetis Byrjun,” a few months after 9/11, and it was a rare moment of utter entrancement. None of the words were in English, but the 10-minute epics of eerie falsetto and guitars-played-like-cellos brought me some kind of orgasmic peace. Since then, whenever life ceases to make sense, I seek out the Icelandic quintet and turn to the last three tracks on “Agaetis Byrjun” for solace...