Saturday Flashback: Gregorian – A Spaceman Came Travelling

“You remember Gregorian.”

Tim: You remember Gregorian – they’re from Germany, and typically do covers of songs in a medieval chanting style.

Tom: For once, I actually do remember them. They… left an impression.

Tim: You’ll be ASTOUNDED to hear that they’ve made a Christmas album, cunningly entitled Christmas Chants. It’s hard to pick a stand-out track, largely because most of them are tedious and forgettable.

Tom: Like almost all Christmas songs. And almost all novelty Gregorian chant covers.

Tim: Cynical, but very true. However, there are a couple of gems on there. Try this.

Tim: It’s safe to say this has always been a somewhat ridiculous (albeit excellent) track, what with the whole reimagining of Jesus being from space, and the idea that something weird like God aliens impregnating a woman does indeed happen every couple of thousand years (genuinely, it came from a poem and everything).

Tom: I think my main complaint about this track is the phrase “light years of time”. Light years are a distance, damn it.

Tim: Top marks for pedantry. Reimagining the song as a Gregorian chant (which it definitely is and I won’t have you convince me any other way) doesn’t really do anything to change the ridiculousness – in fact, the ah-ah-ah-ah-etc almost sounds more suited here than with Chris de Burgh’s original, which basically amounts to yelling.

Tom: If you ignore the lyrics, it almost sounds like a genuine religious chant. I’ll give them that. But aside from that: just no.

Tim: Either way, though, guess we need to start preparing for those aliens.

Saturday Flashback: Gregorian – Heaven

Tim: Okay so let’s discuss these guys. If you recall, they performed Masters of Chant when competing to represent Germany at Eurovision this year, which was an original song; that’s not their normal schtick, though.

Tom: That is astonishing.

Tim: Admittedly they don’t normally draft in female singers, but their collection of covers is really quite impressive – ten albums so far, each with a dozen or so tracks reinterpreted to (mostly) fit the restrictions for true Gregorian chants.

Tom: Not even close, Tim. Not even close.

Tim: Well, that’s what they claim, and to be honest the rules seem so far outside my musical knowledge that I’m happy to stay neutral on the topic.

Sometimes, the covers are just a bit meh, such as Boulevard of Broken Dreams; sometimes they sound entirely ludicrous, such as their version of Clocks, where their seeming attempt to rave it up almost gives Scooter tribute band Moped a run for their money. Every now and again, though, they hit pure gold, such as with this, or My Heart Will Go On, and you wonder if it wouldn’t have been better if in fact they’d recorded the original.

Tom: So here’s the question: who buys this? Who buys ten albums of this? I recognise there’s a market for cover versions, but how many people listen to pop music and think “it’s good, but what I really want is for it to be sung by people impersonating monks”.

Tim: Well I thought that, and my initial thought was “people who stream music” – no payment, just a fun half checking out weird stuff. But they’ve been going 15 years, so I’ve really no idea. On the other hand, when it works, it works:
take this, with its combination of old instruments such as violins, tinkly chimes and, erm, electric guitars. With its weird but quite brilliant and utterly triumphant pitch jump upwards at 3:10.

Tom: And with that odd choice to drop to the lower harmony for the last note of a line sometimes. That’s the opposite of how it normally works, chaps.

Tim: With the aforementioned female that makes it almost as much a cover of DJ Sammy as of Bryan Adams. The entire act is ridiculous and wonderful, and has just about sneaked past Nica & Joe (who, incidentally, also competed to represent Germany with an original song) as my favourite classical reinterpretation group, so well done to them.

Tom: I suppose it’s cheap enough to produce: all they have to do is sell a few albums and they’re in the money.

Tim: Then I guess that’s all you need, along with a confidence that your fans won’t realise you’re not playing by the rules. Or will, but will leap to your defence in the style of YouTube commenter martharoyce, who says that “another of my favourite musicians are called ‘Faun’ but they are not woodland creatures.” So that’s told YOU.

Saturday Reject: Gregorian – Masters of Chant

“Laser-equipped knuckledusters”

Tim: Germany this year was a good watch – out of ten entries, seven were enjoyable (and somehow one of the others got through to the final three, but never mind).

Tom: And then… then there was this one?

Tim: Oh no, this is a very enjoyable one. It’s the one that hits the “yes it’s a novelty but then so was Lordi and look at them” mark. Infuriatingly, there’s no proper version online, so we’ll have to make do with the crappy audience recording.

Tim: Sure, for the first fifty seconds you’re there thinking “oh bloody hell what is this nonsense” but then the chorus hits and suddenly you’re in Hans Zimmer soundtrack territory.

Tom: Which, incidentally, means they’re not doing a bloody Gregorian chant, because that’s monophonic and on a very limited scale.

Tim: Ooh, pedantic, though technically accurate. Second verse, they bring out the soprano with the less impressive vocal, but then the others have all got laser-equipped knuckledusters so you don’t care. Final chorus, we’re back in soundtrack territory and you’ve got the lighting change which really brings out the flames, the film suddenly taking a trip to the underworld for a terrific climax.

Tom: It’s… actually not bad. The lyrics are ludicrous, but it’s more listenable — and certainly more memorable — than a lot of Eurovision entries.

Tim: Would it have won Eurovision? Absolutely not. But would it have been entertaining, and maybe a decent track for Germany to send anyway, given that they’re guaranteed a place in the final? I think: absolutely yes.

Tom: Remember LT United? Yes you do. And that’s the point.