mark wirtz: learning to live with love. review of the great song by mark wirtz. buhdge

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"Learning to Live with Love," written by Mark Wirtz The long, bumpy road traveled from EMI to USA by Mad Mark Wirtz of "Excerpt from a Teenage Opera" fame, the long road from which Wirtz's keen musical sense and status as writer and knob twiddler extraordinaire for innumerable mad creations emerged intact, has brought Wirtz to the proverbial fork in the road. "Learning to Live with Love," a five minute, most extraordinary song that is as contemporary as it is a broad, loving homage to the sounds that Wirtz's sponge of a mind has soaked in during the past four decades, is finished, and it is revelatory. "Learning to Live with Love," a glorious pop song, sweet and innocent and bold all at once, in the hands of almost any other writer/producer would surely have been seen as an impossibility in 2004, a steep climb involving enough time to produce an entire album and more sweat than a thousand human beings could drip under the hottest of suns. The last time anyone spent that much time recording a song, it was the sixties, when symphonies could fit snugly into a pocket. Surely in the 2000s there is no room for such a mad scientist, a this-and/or-that kind of sculptor of sound, whose mind is revolving at lightning speed around the essence of his creations, who, in the space of a quick second, can imagine mandolins here, a quick ascending vocal line there, some kind of odd string punctuation just before the middle eight, a semitone down. Surely there is no room in today's music world for a person who has, according to eyewitness reports, composed pop songs on a banjo. Surely there is no room for such whimsy. Yet, even as little boys and girls play in the big, bad world of impersonal record companies drowning under the weight of too much market research and too little gut, there is room for someone who prefers to experiment and please himself and only then unleash his creations upon the world. That such unleashing usually comes only after untold hours of commitment and, more likely than not, a seemingly bottomless checkbook at hand, is hardly the point; that such productions can even exist in a world overflowing with increasingly-plastic-sounding music, however well intentioned, is the point. It is purely amazing that there is room for such magic, and such magic tricks. Of course, it helps to have friends who are willing to help you realize your creation no matter what, and, artificial marketing restrictions be damned, see the resulting confection through to completion and release. Wirtz was by no means alone in the creation of "Learning to Live with Love," but like all of his creations through the years, he is the focus of it. Every note, every change, every string punctuation, every wave of the tambourine, has his stamp. It might even be said that if you want to know what makes Mark Wirtz tick, you should just listen to "Learning to LIve with Love," and everything will be revealed. Surely the song is not that transparent, because Wirtz's next mad creation will more likely than not veer off into another, untold direction, and then the stakes will have changed yet again. And, anyway, isn't it more important to leave just enough detail out and therefore retain an air of mystery? Is there anyone who really wants to give it all away? So it is that "Learning to Live with Love," with its strong sense of contemporary air and firm nods to the sounds of the sixties, tells all but manages still to leave some things out. Horns, mandolins, keyboards, twists of harmony only a madman could conjure stake their claim amidst clever turns of phrase, a hook to die for, pure pop vocals, and a strong sense of purpose. "Let's take it slowly, just a little at a time, we'll find the words to fit, and together make it rhyme," so it says in the middle-eight, and no truer words can be spoken about "Learning to Live with Love." This is exactly how the song was created, every detail pored over as if life itself depended on it. One can love this song, or one can simply admire it, but either way one will come away with his life enriched. Although the production is hardly perfect--some of the instruments are played as keyboard samples, alas--"Learning to Live with Love" is that most rare of creations in an age where the art of creation is more often than not a lost art: a deceptively simple song that rewards discerning listeners with newly discovered detail every time it spins. But "Learning to Live with Love" is also a fish out of water, a song that commercial radio stations would hardly play alongside Macy Gray or the Strokes or Hilary Duff or any classic rock band you'd care to mention, or, for that matter, one of Ludwig van Beethoven's greatest hits. Specialty radio stations, sprinkled across the vast Internet, would do well to pick up on the song and spread its infectious charms. But LTLWL, as the song has come to be known by some, is currently without a place to call home, although, barring any last minute roadblocks, that will change in November, when it is scheduled to appear, courtesy of Rev-Ola records, on a new Mark Wirtz CD called Love is Eggshaped. Until then, you can sample the song's charms by clicking on the link below (or here, for that matter). I am fortunate beyond words to have heard "Learning to Live with Love" in its entirety (it has, in fact, been playing in a loop during the writing of this article); I can hardly imagine my life without it. Ask me for one, true song from the sixties that encompasses all of what I love about pop music, I'll likely play you "Bus Stop." Ask me to play something current that does the same thing, I'll probably play this most wonderful of songs. It speaks volumes I cannot speak without tripping over myself. It is exactly what a mad scientist will come up with after traveling such a long, bumpy road for so many years. It is, pure and simple, as near to perfection as a mad musical scientist can get in these increasingly maddening days. Listen to a sample of "Learning to Live with Love." Enjoy. "Learning to Live With Love": FAQ Written by: Mark Wirtz and Kris Ife Recorded in London and Savannah, Georgia Lead Vocalist: Rob Stride Keyboards, bass: Mark Wirtz Drums: Phil Hadaway, Mark Wirtz Guitars: Micky Groome, Rob Stride Spanish Guitar: Micky Groome Background vocals: Tony Rivers, Anthony Rivers, Micky Groome, Kris Ife Vocals arranged by Anthony Rivers Alan Haber buhdge August 28, 2004
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"Learning to Live with Love," written by Mark Wirtz

Happy to be Mark Wirtz The long, bumpy road traveled from EMI to USA by Mad Mark Wirtz of "Excerpt from a Teenage Opera" fame, the long road from which Wirtz's keen musical sense and status as writer and knob twiddler extraordinaire for innumerable mad creations emerged intact, has brought Wirtz to the proverbial fork in the road.

"Learning to Live with Love," a five minute, most extraordinary song that is as contemporary as it is a broad, loving homage to the sounds that Wirtz's sponge of a mind has soaked in during the past four decades, is finished, and it is revelatory.

"Learning to Live with Love," a glorious pop song, sweet and innocent and bold all at once, in the hands of almost any other writer/producer would surely have been seen as an impossibility in 2004, a steep climb involving enough time to produce an entire album and more sweat than a thousand human beings could drip under the hottest of suns. The last time anyone spent that much time recording a song, it was the sixties, when symphonies could fit snugly into a pocket.

Surely in the 2000s there is no room for such a mad scientist, a this-and/or-that kind of sculptor of sound, whose mind is revolving at lightning speed around the essence of his creations, who, in the space of a quick second, can imagine mandolins here, a quick ascending vocal line there, some kind of odd string punctuation just before the middle eight, a semitone down. Surely there is no room in today's music world for a person who has, according to eyewitness reports, composed pop songs on a banjo. Surely there is no room for such whimsy.

Yet, even as little boys and girls play in the big, bad world of impersonal record companies drowning under the weight of too much market research and too little gut, there is room for someone who prefers to experiment and please himself and only then unleash his creations upon the world. That such unleashing usually comes only after untold hours of commitment and, more likely than not, a seemingly bottomless checkbook at hand, is hardly the point; that such productions can even exist in a world overflowing with increasingly-plastic-sounding music, however well intentioned, is the point. It is purely amazing that there is room for such magic, and such magic tricks.

Of course, it helps to have friends who are willing to help you realize your creation no matter what, and, artificial marketing restrictions be damned, see the resulting confection through to completion and release. Wirtz was by no means alone in the creation of "Learning to Live with Love," but like all of his creations through the years, he is the focus of it. Every note, every change, every string punctuation, every wave of the tambourine, has his stamp. It might even be said that if you want to know what makes Mark Wirtz tick, you should just listen to "Learning to LIve with Love," and everything will be revealed.

Surely the song is not that transparent, because Wirtz's next mad creation will more likely than not veer off into another, untold direction, and then the stakes will have changed yet again. And, anyway, isn't it more important to leave just enough detail out and therefore retain an air of mystery? Is there anyone who really wants to give it all away?

So it is that "Learning to Live with Love," with its strong sense of contemporary air and firm nods to the sounds of the sixties, tells all but manages still to leave some things out. Horns, mandolins, keyboards, twists of harmony only a madman could conjure stake their claim amidst clever turns of phrase, a hook to die for, pure pop vocals, and a strong sense of purpose. "Let's take it slowly, just a little at a time, we'll find the words to fit, and together make it rhyme," so it says in the middle-eight, and no truer words can be spoken about "Learning to Live with Love." This is exactly how the song was created, every detail pored over as if life itself depended on it.

One can love this song, or one can simply admire it, but either way one will come away with his life enriched. Although the production is hardly perfect--some of the instruments are played as keyboard samples, alas--"Learning to Live with Love" is that most rare of creations in an age where the art of creation is more often than not a lost art: a deceptively simple song that rewards discerning listeners with newly discovered detail every time it spins.

But "Learning to Live with Love" is also a fish out of water, a song that commercial radio stations would hardly play alongside Macy Gray or the Strokes or Hilary Duff or any classic rock band you'd care to mention, or, for that matter, one of Ludwig van Beethoven's greatest hits. Specialty radio stations, sprinkled across the vast Internet, would do well to pick up on the song and spread its infectious charms. But LTLWL, as the song has come to be known by some, is currently without a place to call home, although, barring any last minute roadblocks, that will change in November, when it is scheduled to appear, courtesy of Rev-Ola records, on a new Mark Wirtz CD called Love is Eggshaped. Until then, you can sample the song's charms by clicking on the link below (or here, for that matter).

I am fortunate beyond words to have heard "Learning to Live with Love" in its entirety (it has, in fact, been playing in a loop during the writing of this article); I can hardly imagine my life without it.

Ask me for one, true song from the sixties that encompasses all of what I love about pop music, I'll likely play you "Bus Stop." Ask me to play something current that does the same thing, I'll probably play this most wonderful of songs. It speaks volumes I cannot speak without tripping over myself. It is exactly what a mad scientist will come up with after traveling such a long, bumpy road for so many years.

It is, pure and simple, as near to perfection as a mad musical scientist can get in these increasingly maddening days.

Listen to a sample of "Learning to Live with Love." Enjoy.

"Learning to Live With Love": FAQ
Written by: Mark Wirtz and Kris Ife
Recorded in London and Savannah, Georgia
Lead Vocalist: Rob Stride
Keyboards, bass: Mark Wirtz
Drums: Phil Hadaway, Mark Wirtz
Guitars: Micky Groome, Rob Stride
Spanish Guitar: Micky Groome
Background vocals: Tony Rivers, Anthony Rivers, Micky Groome, Kris Ife
Vocals arranged by Anthony Rivers

Alan Haber
buhdge
August 28, 2004