9 posts tagged “music”

Those of you who are old enough might remember Jefferson Airplane, the psychedelic rock band that was so influential and popular in the 60s. I still remember "Don't You Want Somebody to Love" and "White Rabbit" (feed your head!).

The lead guitarist for that group was a fellow by the name of Jorma Kaukonen. He seemed an odd match for a hard rock band, since his roots were in the blues and in traditional acoustic folk music. After the band broke up, Jorma drifted for a while and eventually returned to those roots with an absolutely gorgeous recording that he made in the 1970s: He did some Rev. Gary Davis spirituals on the guitar and also came up with a few songs of his own.

My absolute favorite song of his goes by the name of Genesis, and has to do with love and reconciliation. According to the liner notes, he had an affair of some time and his wife found out. They eventually worked it out and this song came out of it. For me, this is one of those "driveway" songs: that is, you hear it as you pull into your driveway and stay in the car until the song ends. The lyrics are just as beautiful as the song. I'll post them below the audio:

If you like this song, I'd recommend investing the CD. There's some nice stuff on there. Not everything's as good as Genesis, but it alone is worth the purchase price of this album.

Genesis, by Jorma Kaukonen:

Time has come for us to pause

And think of living as it was

Into the future we must cross, must cross

I'd like to go with you

And I'd like to go with you

You say I'm harder than a wall

A marble shaft about to fall

I love you dearer than them all, them all

So let me stay with you

So let me stay with you

And as we walked into the day

Skies of blue had turned to grey

I might have not been clear to say, to say

I never looked away

I never looked away

And though I'm feeling you inside

My life is rolling with the tide

I'd like to see it be an open ride

Along with you

Going along with you

The time we borrowed from ourselves

Can't stay within a vaulted well

And living turns into a lender's will

So let me come with you

And let me come with you

And when we came out into view

And there I found myself with you

When breathing felt like something new, new

Along with you

Going along with you

My first instrument was the classic guitar. I began the study when I was 15 or thereabouts and continued through my early 20s. I had an excellent teacher, who nurtured the musician in me and at the same time instilled habits of discipline that serve me to this day.

I listened to a number of pieces written for guitar, performed by a number of prominent musicians: Andres Segovia, Julian Bream, etc. At one point my father encountered the second movement of a concerto by Joachim Rodrigo. It was one of the most beautiful melodies I've ever heard and I stop - simply stop - everything I'm doing whenever I chance to hear it.

I came across the first part of this movement while browsing YouTube a few weeks ago. I just posted it to the blog I've put together for my family, so that my dad can hear it. While I was at it, I thought I might share it with you as well:

Second Movement of the Concierto de Aranjuez, performed by Kaori Muraji. She's quite a performer, too.

I'm still amazed at the creativity people can show. This guy is just plain amazing:

No, seriously: he is. I don't know if you've ever actually seen a Tuvan throat singer, but this was my first time. Damn.

I'm in a quiet mood, relaxed a bit after all the Easter packing and shipping. Everyone else will pick up their order at my house so all I have to do is bring it upstairs from the freezer and collect payment. This Sunday I'll be getting together with my in-laws for a Polish Easter brunch with many of the foods I've been packing and shipping all week.

I'm feeling a bit calmer and more contemplative, even as I'm frustrated with the inordinate amount of time it's taking to start my new job assignment. Snafu after snafu, with me wondering when and where it's all going to end. Frustrating, but at least I've been assured that the job is still mine...as soon as they clear the bureaucratic hurdles.

I found an interesting bit of music on YouTube the other day. I've been watching the video a few times now and find myself mesmerized by it. It's of a young player performing on a Hang drum, which is some type of Swiss part percussive and part melodic instrument. It has a mildly steel drum kind of sound, but it's played with the hands like a bongo drum. It's difficult to describe, but lovely to watch and hear. Let me share my mood. Enjoy:

And happy Easter!

This is very cute and very creative. Check it out, below:

Lovers of traditional music get to travel the globe in ways many others don't. My husband found this on YouTube a few months ago, by a young Turkish musician playing the Saz. It's a three-coursed guitar-like instrument. He's amazing. Leaves Eric and Co. behind in the dust (no offense, Eric). This kind of music can inspire a great deal of passion in me. I see so much in my mind's eye, from dust devils to women in hijab walking dusty village paths with water jugs on their heads:

By the way, here's more information about the famed beauty Layla (of Eric Clapton fame), a 5th century Iranian woman who attracted the ardor of a Bedouin suitor by the name of Majnun, the Romeo of his day perhaps. This is based on a true story (with thanks to Wikipedia):

Qays ibn al-Mullawah ibn Muzahim, a bedouin poet, was from the Bani Aamir tribe of Arabia. He fell in love with Layla bint Mahdi ibn Sa’d from the same tribe, better known as Layla Al-Aamiriya. He soon began creating poems about his love for her, mentioning her name often. When he asked for her hand in marriage her father refused as this would mean a scandal for Layla according to Arab traditions. Soon after, Layla married another man.

When Qays heard of her marriage he fled the tribe camp and wandered in the surrounding desert. His family eventually gave up on his return and left food for him in the wilderness. He could sometimes be seen reciting poetry to himself or writing in the sand with a stick.

Layla moved to Iraq with her husband, where she became ill and eventually died. Qays was later found dead in the wilderness in 688 A.D. near an unknown woman’s grave. He had carved three verses of poetry on a rock near the grave, which are the last three verses attributed to him.

Many other minor incidents happened between his madness and his death. Most of his recorded poetry was composed before his descent into madness.

While you're pondering this wonderful, painful tale have a look at the artwork below, said to be a representation of the mad poet:

And, before I go, here's another lovely Saz piece to ponder:

Now that's what would have been playing in the background! Imagine deserts, fig trees, mad poets and magic in the hot, dusty air.

I've been listening to a song I downloaded not too long ago, from a British folk singer by the name of Nic Jones. Nic hasn't played since the early 1980s, following a horrendous road accident that had him hospitalized for months. I don't know what damage it did to his body - but for whatever reason he never went back to playing. Perhaps he no longer could.

Nic Jones sang and played traditional music, accompanying himself on guitar most of the time. If you're familiar with the likes of Martin Carthy, then you'll recognize his musical style: very modal and very intense.

I've been fascinated with one song he performed in the late 1970s, a traditional balled called Rufford Park Poachers. Years ago I played fiddle in a traditional Celtic and British band and our lead singer performed it. I was fascinated by the song then, and and still am. It's got a captivating melody and a great deal of rebellious sentiment, something relatively rare for traditional ballads. In most cases the songs revolve around having to bear social and economic burdens rather than rise up against them.

Rufford Park Poachers documents the struggle of a band of 40 poachers who invade a nobleman's estate grounds, Rufford Park. They attack and kill the head games-keeper and a few of them are transported to Australia for their crime. I find it very provocative and end up wondering whether or not the poachers were justified in attacking the grounds-keeper. It does sound as though they intended to kill him:

A buck or doe, believe it so
A pheasant or a hare
Sent on earth for everyone
Quite equally to share

Poacher bold, As I unfold
Keep up your gallant heart
And think about those poachers bold
That night in Rufford Park

They say that 40 gallant poachers
Now they were in a mess
They often were attacked
When the number it was less

Now poacher bold...

Among the gorse
To settle scores
The 40 gathered stones
Making a fight for a poor man's right
To break the keeper's bones

Now poacher bold...

Then the keepers went with their flails
Against the poachers and their cause
That no man again would dare
Defy the rich man's laws

Now poacher bold...

And the keepers they began the fray
With their stones and with their flails
When the poachers started, oh
They quickly turned their tails

Now poacher bold...

Then upon the ground with mortal wounds
The head keeper Roberts lay
He never will rise up until
The final judgement day

Now poacher bold...

Of all the band who made a stand
To set a net or snare
Four men brought before the court
And tried for murder there

Now poacher bold...

And the judge he said, for Roberts' death
Transported you must be
To serve a term of 14 years
In convict slavery

Poacher bold, my tale is told
Keep up your gallant heart
Think about those poachers bold
That night in Rufford Park

This mass attack and sentencing actually happened:

"...in 1850 there was a showdown between local people and gamekeepers in the shape of a vicious and bitter fight, after which ringleaders were selected, tried and transported for up to 14 years." The original version of this song was recorded in 1908 on wax cylinders. The above-mentioned Martin Carthy performed it starting in the 1960s.

Do you think the poachers/townspeople were justified in this mass action? Convict transportation to Australia was brutal. Do you think the judges were justified? I find this a very unusual song. Usually songs would go along the lines of "I broke the law, I lost, now I'm going to be hung/imprisoned/transported." The British ballad tradition is full of laments for people kidnapped by the government to be forced to serve (often for life) in the military. Their wives lamented, they lamented. There were songs of people thrown out of work during the industrial revolution. Lots of lamentation and sorrow. But, almost no rebellion. No one fought back, at least none that were documented.

I'd love your opinion. By the way, here's Nic Jones's version of the song. I think it's fabulous:

So, what do you think??