Manafonistas

 
 

„Mir ist das Sein das allen Gemeinsame.

Von wo ich auch beginne, immer wieder komme ich darauf zurück.“

(aus dem Lehrgedicht von Parmenides)

 
Ich schlendere durch die geradlinige Fußgängerzone wie zum Highnoon, die Büchse fest verschlossen. Die Designer Stücke blenden, die Euros klirren. Griechischer Kaffee verströmt keinen einladenden Duft unter den patriarchalisch besetzten Cafés. Zwei Frauen sitzen im Starbucks. „Lajla, here is your Americano, Lajla, here is your Croissant.“ I smile.

„Mustafa, here is your Latte, here your Muffin.“ Mustafa doesn’t smile.

I cross the border, whistling the tune from „Sultan’s Picnic“ (Rabih Abou-Khalil).
 

Polis said: show me your passport

Polis said: stay alow one day

Polis said: no pictures

Polis said: you can pass

 
Auf kurvigen, schmalen Wegen hängt, liegt, steht handgemachte Ware. Aus einem alten Ferguson Plattenspieler schallt arabische Musik. Es riecht nach Mint and Bazil. Wo gibt es den besten Safran? In Nikosia greek or Nikosia turkish?

David Bowie, wake up and do it again: We can be heroes, just for one day.

„Paul would constantly send through any new ideas, demos, or recordings, and what was unique and beautiful about this approach was that Paul’s new compositions were now inspiring and influencing the story as I was re-writing it‘, said Johnny Harris. ‚I’d also send Paul through new drafts of the script, or any new ideas as they were forming along the way, and a beautifully collaborative process evolved.“

(„Jawbone“ is out in British cinemas on March 17) 

 

Disregarding the fact that he has created the most beautiful song of his career here, this soundtrack is so far away from the persona of the „mod-father“ dating back to his „Jam“- and „Style Council“-days that die-hard fans will turn away with anger before the first chords of that killer folk song (track no. 2) would possibly stop them in their tracks.

So much more happens around and within this 21-minute opening collage (John Zorn would be thrilled!), on a record full of  violoncello-fuelled bitterness, grey noise, lost piano figures, sharp dialogues, one short burst of electric guitar, night-field-recordings & nightmarish sceneries cosmically fucked up beyond human control.

It’s intense, very intense, and, sometimes, unexpectedly beautiful (the revelation of simply strumming a well-tuned acoustic guitar). When all seems having been gone completely wrong, close to the end of the long opening act, Paul Weller sings like a wounded animal with a distant Sinatra-touch, bereft of all romanticism, pure shiver, no silver.

 

The opening credits of BBC’s Arena programme are imprinted in the brain of (I’d reckon) most people who grew up in the UK between the 70s and the 90s. The theme tune was beguiling, aching, mysterious, meditative, mental, transcendental. So much so that the BBC would (reportedly) receive letters every week asking what this music was, and where could they buy it?

At 1 minute 42 seconds, the BBC Arena theme tune doesn’t ever outstay its welcome. It fades in, you start to really dig it, then it fades away before your brain is sated. So you end up playing it 4, 5, 6 maybe 7 times in a row – no exaggeration. Then something interesting happens. The last 10 seconds or so of the recording are mainly silence.

But crank the volume right up just as the music fades, and there’s something there, 2 or 3 seconds of – what – is it the end of this track or the start of another? It sounds too interesting to be an outro, but it’s more or less hidden, and so quiet that sometimes you think you only imagined it. And your brain can’t help but wonder – what is out there? What’s beyond the veil? Tout est vert tout d’un coup.
 
 
 

 
 
 
Here is a picture of a hill.

Historicity is problematic. But as John Edgar Wideman once said, all stories are true. So listening to Gavin Bryars‘ „Jesus‘ Blood Never Failed Me Yet“ the story that your brain builds up around it is what it is. A fragment of found music, a handful of notes. A lost soul who duty will not track down, throwing spirit and poetry into an indifferent grey atmosphere. Arbitrarily swept onto magnetic tape, then augmented by orchestral backing some time later. Must be a hymn. Must have provenance. Must be artifice. Moondog still stands in the rain on the corner of 53rd Street and 6th Avenue. And Tom Waits was always good at found sounds and cover versions (he got to the heart of Daniel Johnston’s „King Kong“ for sure). And Waits‘ rendition of Jesus‘ Blood – fucking genius rendition – doesn’t subtract from what precedes it. It takes you back to the original, reframing it in a context outside of social realism.

 

It’s a dream world, and it’s a jungle. The working methods change as do the places to be. As I said, we’re in the jungle this time, and it’s not mighty. Not mighty at all. More Walt Whitman than Walt Disney. They are three, but they sound like a tribe on this double album, vinyl only. Every side of UNFOLD covers one original composition, and as different as they are, from mood and air and heat, it’s still and always jungle time. Everyone will get lost there, get lost in his own favourite undergrowth, favourite power spot and favourite outpost. The percussion man seems like a bunch of percussionists. Branches and leaves and squelchy rain drumming. The keyboards can easily be drowned in these textures of high density, but a clearing is going to happen from time to time. The bass is a bass in the wilderness, sends signals, heartbeats, and farewells. Those searching do not always find, but THE NECKS discover a lot in their thrilling modus operandi of getting, well, lost, turning the old piano trio format upside down again and again. I asked Chris Abrahams about his inspirations, the working process in the studio, the mixing. A kind of introduction into the adventurous world of a band that never fails to surprise.

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Chris Abrahams speaking

 

Am 7. Februar 1996 erschien eine recht ungewöhnliche Platte. Ein großer Pianist, den ich schon seit meiner Schulzeit von Herzen bewundere (seine Interpretation von Beethovens Klaviersonate Nr.32 hüte ich heute noch wie ein Schatz – Aufnahme mit einem Uher Variacord 263 Stereo, immer noch bestens anzuhören), brachte damals, vor nunmehr 21 Jahren , eine Tangoscheibe heraus. Daniel Barenboim: Piazzolla et al – Mi Buenos Aires querido. Es wirkten mit Rodolfo Mederos und Héctor Console. Der Bandoneonspieler, Komponist und Dirigent Rodolfo Mederos spielt sein Instrument so herzzerreißend einfühlsam und gut, da bin ich wirklich sprachlos. Gleich beim ersten Stück Mi Buenos Aires Querido hört man zunächst nur extrem leise und zart das Bandoneon, bevor es dann richtig abgeht. Héctor Console spielt den Bass in diesem Trio. Zum Glück ist diese wunderbare Scheibe noch zu haben. Unbedingte Empfehlung.

Von Daniel Barenboim und seinen Projekten sind ja im Moment die Feuilletons der großen Zeitungen voll, ein Herzenswunsch von ihm ist in Erfüllung gegangen: Neben seiner Barenboim-Said-Akademie, in der palästinensische und israelische Musiker studieren können, hat er nun auch noch einen Konzertsaal in Berlin, den Pierre-Boulez-Saal, eröffnen können. Die Klangqualität des Raumes soll riesig sein, vielleicht kann ich ja selber dort einmal ein Konzert erleben.

 
 
 

 
 
 

Anderes Thema jetzt:

Am 06.03. konnte man im DeutschlandRadio Laurie Anderson im Gespräch mit Vladimir Balzer und Axel Rahmlow hören – das Interview kann man hier nachhören bzw. nachlesen. 

Hier ein Zitat aus dem Gespräch, am Ende des Interviews sagte Laurie Anderson:

 

Eine letzte Sache, die ich noch sagen möchte: Als ich zu den Demonstrationen in Washington gegangen bin, war das wirklich phantastisch, so viele Leute, so viel Spaß. Auf dem Rückweg im Zug von Washington zu unserem Bus in Maryland fingen alle an, Lieder zu singen wie „Michael Row the Boat Ashore“ oder „Where have all the Flowers Gone“. Normalerweise würde ich einen Impuls spüren, mich sofort umzubringen, wenn ich Folksongs singen müsste, also bitte, wirklich, ja? Aber alle im Zug haben gesungen, alte, junge, schwarze, weiße, Männer, Frauen – und ich dachte „Das ist es, wofür ich lebe: Teil einer Gruppe zu sei, die ohne jede Ironie einfach singt.“ Es gab ein paar Leute, die sich sehr unwohl gefühlt haben dabei und ihre Schuhe betrachtet haben, und nicht gesungen haben. Und wer waren diese Leute? Das waren die Kinder, die noch nie jemanden gesehen hatten, der im Zug singt und so gemeinschaftlich seiner Freude Ausdruck verleiht. Zu sehen, wie Fremde zusammen singen, erzeugte Unbehagen in ihnen. Da habe ich gedacht: „Was ziehen wir uns hier heran?“ Wir sollten besser aufpassen und ich hätte den Kindern am liebsten gesagt: „Ihr solltet lieber mitsingen, denn ihr werdet diese Lieder lernen, ihr werdet diese Lieder schreiben, also macht besser mit.“

I am going to contribute something a bit unexpected around here… Inspired by Ian’s entertaining Bowie discography overview in summer 2015, I’d like to present my opinion piece on Elton John’s discography

Some time ago somewhere I read someone stating that of the seven bands or musicians having sold more than 250 million records, Elton John is the only one not to receive as much respect as the other six (The Beatles, Elvis, M. Jackson, Madonna, Led Zep, Pink Floyd) among music critics and music lovers. I think that’s kind of true, considering I’ve been following Mr. Dwight’s aka Mr. John’s body of work consistently and rather closely for almost all my life (which, however, began in 1978, after his creative peak, by the way).

Sure, Elton John put out some stuff which is pretty mediocre — but he’s been around as a recording artist for 50 years and I’d like to pay tribute to him with this little overview to his 70th birthday this month. I’ll try to keep the comments short, since he put out so many albums.

(1) Empty Sky (1969) ***

Notes: An old friend who’d never listen to Elton John received this LP once from another friend – and was surprised he actually liked it. It was not was he’d expected. An ambitious, but uneven mix of influences of the late sixties, from progressive rock to chamber music to psychedelic Sgt. Pepper, with a few nice leftfield pop songs.

Standout tracks: Empty Sky (8½ minutes), Skyline Pigeon (harpsichord version).

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(2) [untitled album] or Elton John (August 1970) ****½

First album produced by Gus Dudgeon, with string orchestra arranged and conducted by Paul Buckmaster. Probably his most personal album, rather melancholic and intimate. Some rocking blues, some orchestra pop, some gospel songs.

Standout tracks: Border Song, The Greatest Discovery, I need you to turn to, Your Song.

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(3) Tumbleweed Connection (Oct 1970) *****

I actually bought this album maybe five times, in various editions on LP and CD. A thoroughly beautiful and emotionally intense concept album about the American West, with lots of songs being quite unconventional. It’s actually not what you’d consider as „pop album“ , but rather a cinematic collection of country and western and bluesy folk songs referencing the civil war, among other things. One of the best albums of the 1970s, for sure.

Standout tracks: Amoreena (NB: the fantastic opening song of Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon), Come down in Time, Son of your Father, My Father’s Gun.

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(4) Friends (Soundtrack Album, Feb 1971) **½

Haven’t heard it in decades. A soundtrack album to a film no-one knows. Paul Buckmaster wrote some instrumental sections, but a couple of Elton’s rock songs are pretty good.

Standout tracks: Can I put you on, Honey Roll.

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(5) 17-11-70 (March 1971) ****

I always enjoyed this rough-sounding live album, recorded on November 17th, 1970, for a New York radio station, a lot; always hoped for Elton John to release another similar intimate acoustic album again. This 52 minute, hard-rocking set (one track was left off of the original LP version) presents Elton’s very spirited core trio of piano, bass (Dee Murray, his bass player until he died in 1992) and drums (Nigel Olsson, after he left Uriah Heep, has been part of Elton’s band from 1970 until today). This absolutely great selection of songs includes no hits, but fine covers versions of My Baby left me, Get back and Honky Tonk Women.

Standout tracks: Amoreena, Take me to the Pilot, Honky Tonk Women.

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(6) Madman Across the Water (Nov 1971) ****½

A rather dark, but somewhat cinematic storytelling album, an adequate follow-up to Tumbleweed, strangely enough never received recognition, though there’s not a single mediocre song on the elegiac album, which relies heavily on Buckmaster’s string arrangements and epic character stories such as Levon (a beautiful song covered by, yes, Jon Bon Jovi twenty years later). Tiny Dancer (featuring BJ Cole’s steel guitar) of course became a late hit because of Cameron Crowe’s film Almost Famous. Interesting guest musicians include Rick Wakeman, Herbie Flowers and a choir.

Standout tracks: Madman Across the Water (featuring Rick Wakeman), Indian Sunset, Levon, Razor Face.

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(7) Honky Château (May 1972) *****

Finally, Elton’s first „real“ pop album. All killers, no fillers. Soul, blues and rock songs, fantastic piano playing, a tight rock’n’roll band, probably the album responsible for Elton John’s reputation as a great songwriter and rise to big stardom. And yes, there’s Rocket Man – just listen to it disregarding you’ve heard it a million times on mainstream radio. There’s lot of fun on the album, too, just check out Honky Cat (with the cool brass band), Hercules (with Nigel Olsson on „Rhino whistle“) or I think I’m going to kill myself. And there’s Ray Cooper on percussion and congas, Jean-Luc Ponty on electric violin and David Hentschel on A.R.P. synthesizer. Thoroughly fantastic.
Standout tracks (I always loved the rock numbers): Honky Cat, Susie (Dramas), Amy, Hercules.

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(8) Don’t shoot my I’m only the Piano Player (Jan 1973) ****

The only reason this is not thoroughly fantastic is probably Honky Château. Even more pop music than in 1972, slightly more eclectic, incorporating influences from all across the past 20 years, including Merle Haggard, Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, the Marx Brothers and Speedy Gonzales. All songs are very good to great, but the album is maybe less than the sum of its parts. And, well, here you’ll find Crocodile Rock and Daniel, if you don’t know where to look for them. ;-) (PS: Daniel is not a gay anthem. It’s about a Vietnam veteran.)

Standout tracks: I’m gonna be a Teenage Idol (a tribute to Elton’s friend Marc Bolan, with a brass band), Have Mercy on the Criminal (orchestral blues-rock), Midnight Creeper (another strong brass arrangement, this time with a much darker song), Crocodi— ah forget it…

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(9) Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (Oct 1973) ****½

People usually say it’s his best album. So what do you expect me to say…? It’s not. However, considering Elton John has become mainstream radio fodder since then, it’s surprising that there are nasty lyrics about a Dirty Little Girl and how All the Girls love Alice, as well as a funny reggae about a Jamaica Jerk-Off or the tongue-in-cheek Social Disease on here, all of which would have required a „parental advisory“ sticker a few years later. Speaking of which, Guns N’Roses paid tribute to the beautiful I’ve seen that Movie too in their huge 1991 hit You could be mine, the „title song“ to Terminator 2.
It’s probably the first openly gay album in mainstream music; with Alice and Bennie and the Jets, which is a self-portrait homage to glam rock and has since been referred to and sampled many times in (American) Black Music, most recently on A Tribe Called Quest’s standout 2016 album We got it from here… Thank you for your Service, where the rappers collaborated with Elton using samples of the song and added new lines. Personally, I think the side 3 of this double album is the best crafted suite of perfect songs in Elton John’s discography: Sweet Painted Lady – The Ballad of Danny Bailey (1909-34) – Dirty Little Girl – All the Girls Love Alice, a universe of its own.

Other standout tracks, besides the previously mentioned ones: Social Disease, Love Lies Bleeding, This Song has no Title.

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(10) Caribou (June 1974) ***½

…is basically a light afterword to Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Notable for the nasty live favorite The Bitch is back, inspired (and covered) by Tina Turner, a few absurd and nonsensical songs like Solar Prestige a Gammon and Dixie Lily (mock-country), as well as the seven-and-a-half minute solo piano (with some synth in the last part) epic Ticking about a young school shooter (Elton performed the song on several solo tours, e.g. in Germany after the Erfurt school massacre for that reason).

Standout tracks: You’re so static (an absurd tango), Ticking, I’ve seen the Saucers.

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(11) Greatest Hits (Nov 1974) *****

It’s what it claims it is: A greatest hits collection of the first five years. NB: Candle in the Wind was not on the original LP version.

Standout tracks: Crocodile Rock.

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[continued here]

„I was making a rare appearance in London, solo – I seldom perform. And Brian Eno showed up and began to set up his recording gear. He’d asked me to do an album that he would produce for his own label at the time, Obscure. The record would be ‘Obscure 11’. With him I met Rhett Davies at the studio, and Brian asked him “What have you got that’s new?”. And Rhett produced some options that Brian then tweaked, and I thought that this was such a perfect working relationship.

I had fantasised about having that sort of connection with an engineer. But the album never happened because Brian and I had a concept disagreement. He wanted to feature my voice and disregard the music environment of the song, where the voice lived, and although he was probably right, that is not what I wanted.

Brian had decided to relocate to the US at this point, and asked if I would house his large Tannoy studio speakers. I was living in a spacious flat, part of a manor house that had been a hunting lodge belonging to Windsor Castle. The sound that those speakers produced was gorgeous and I came to rely on them for all of my acoustic decisions. Five years later I received a call that Brian wanted his speakers back! „What speakers?“ I said. The thought of being separated from them was intolerable. But now I test everything on a boombox so, Brian, if you still want your speakers – let me know!“

(Annette Peacock; you can read the whole article on the strange worlds of this woman in thequietus.com) 

 

 
 

Hello all women, womanizer and womenliker. Even for Aphrodite, the goddess of love and laughter it was not quite sure, if she was a woman or a man. She was a fighter as well. I doubt that she met Adonis in that  water bath, too cold for a goddess, for the mother of the gods and „the otherness“. Bobby Brown would have been here on Cyprus very happy to reveal his true self: Oh God I am the American dream. Frank Zappa first.

Paphos ist die diesjährige halbe europäische Kulturhauptstadt. Die andere Hälfte geht an Aarhus, wo es vermutlich geordneter zugeht. Wahrscheinlich haben sich die Organisatoren im Datum geirrt, vielleicht bin ich 10 Jahre zu früh hier? Der Markt von Paphos ein Schutthaufen, die Straßen mit gefährlichen gaps. Die Einheimischen sind relaxed. „We are in construction.“ Es ist beste Stimmung unter der großen Sonne.

Ich mag es, wenn in der Kunst ein Thema bearbeitet wird, das dem Künstler wichtig ist. Hier stehen kunstvolle Weinfässer auf dem halbfertigen Platz und laden zum Verweilen ein. Worauf deutet noch mal das Weinfass im Traum?

Und die Musik?

Ich werde drei Konzerte besuchen, heute spielt das Cyprus Symphony Orchester ein „tribute to MIKIS Theodorakis – „Where shall I find my soul?“ MIKIS Theodorakis war in Studentenzeiten einer meiner Heiligen. Alice Zawadzki + Band spielen Jazz und Songs of the great American songbook. Am 21.3. dann ein Bach-Konzert. Happy  birthday, Bach, only 332 years ago.