SALA KEBA - PAPA WEMBA
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Great Heart
Some day I'll have to talk about Johnny Clegg. His impact on my musical life is immeasurable.
Spirit of the Great Heart - Johnny Clegg & Friends
Spirit of the Great Heart - Johnny Clegg & Friends
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
One of the Best Songs Of It's Kind I've Ever Heard.
The Finish Line - Steve Taylor.
Once upon an average morn
An average boy was born for the second time
Prone upon the altar there
He whispered up the prayer he'd kept hid inside
The vision came
He saw the odds
A hundred little gods on a gilded wheel
"These will vie to take your place, but Father,
by your grace I will never kneel"
And I saw you, upright and proud
And I saw you wave to the crowd
And I saw you laughing out loud at the Philistines
And I saw you brush away rocks
And I saw you pull up your socks
And I saw you out of the blocks
For the finish line
Darkness falls
The devil stirs
And as your vision blurs you start stumbling
The heart is weak
The will is gone
And every strong conviction comes tumbling down
Malice rains
The acid guile is sucking at your shoes while the mud is fresh
It floods the trail
It bleeds you dry
As every little god buys its pound of flesh
And I saw you licking your wounds
And I saw you weave your cocoons
And I saw you changing your tunes for the party line
And I saw you welsh on old debts
I saw you and your comrades bum cigarettes
And you hemmed and you hawed
And you hedged all your bets
Waiting for a sign
Let's wash our hands as we throw little fits
Let's all wash our hands as we curse hypocrites
We're locked in the washroom turning old tricks
Deaf
And joyless
And full of it
The vision came
He saw the odds
A hundred little gods on a gilded wheel
"These have tried to take your place, but Father,
by your grace I will never kneel
I will never kneel..."
Off in the distance
Bloodied but wise
As you squint with the light of the truth in your eyes
And I saw you
Both hands were raised
And I saw your lips move in praise
And I saw you steady your gaze
For the finish line
Every idol like dust
A word scattered them all
And I rose to my feet when you scaled the last wall
And I gasped
When I saw you fall
In his arms
At the finish line
Once upon an average morn
An average boy was born for the second time
Prone upon the altar there
He whispered up the prayer he'd kept hid inside
The vision came
He saw the odds
A hundred little gods on a gilded wheel
"These will vie to take your place, but Father,
by your grace I will never kneel"
And I saw you, upright and proud
And I saw you wave to the crowd
And I saw you laughing out loud at the Philistines
And I saw you brush away rocks
And I saw you pull up your socks
And I saw you out of the blocks
For the finish line
Darkness falls
The devil stirs
And as your vision blurs you start stumbling
The heart is weak
The will is gone
And every strong conviction comes tumbling down
Malice rains
The acid guile is sucking at your shoes while the mud is fresh
It floods the trail
It bleeds you dry
As every little god buys its pound of flesh
And I saw you licking your wounds
And I saw you weave your cocoons
And I saw you changing your tunes for the party line
And I saw you welsh on old debts
I saw you and your comrades bum cigarettes
And you hemmed and you hawed
And you hedged all your bets
Waiting for a sign
Let's wash our hands as we throw little fits
Let's all wash our hands as we curse hypocrites
We're locked in the washroom turning old tricks
Deaf
And joyless
And full of it
The vision came
He saw the odds
A hundred little gods on a gilded wheel
"These have tried to take your place, but Father,
by your grace I will never kneel
I will never kneel..."
Off in the distance
Bloodied but wise
As you squint with the light of the truth in your eyes
And I saw you
Both hands were raised
And I saw your lips move in praise
And I saw you steady your gaze
For the finish line
Every idol like dust
A word scattered them all
And I rose to my feet when you scaled the last wall
And I gasped
When I saw you fall
In his arms
At the finish line
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Of Course
Like everyone else of a certain age, place and mindscape, I grew up with the Beatles. In the long run you may see more of them here than any else. But maybe not.
The Beatles - Hey Bulldog
This is of course not the first of their songs I heard or loved, but it is one of my favorites and one some people seem to have missed
The Beatles - Hey Bulldog
This is of course not the first of their songs I heard or loved, but it is one of my favorites and one some people seem to have missed
I Think This Was My First Favorite Song
I believe this may have been the first song that could have stood out as my favorite.
Herb Alpert & Tijuana Brass - Tijuana Taxi
It made me want to play the trumpet. I had piano lessons around the time of the first and second grade, but it didn't really stick. A bit later I remember going to the band teacher telling him I wanted to play trumpet thinking of this song. He asked me to hum America the Beautiful. I wasn't much of a singer and I didn't do it very well. He told me I had not musical ability and I could not be in the band.
Next time you have a dictionary handy look up bad teacher. I'm sure they have a picture of him.
Herb Alpert & Tijuana Brass - Tijuana Taxi
It made me want to play the trumpet. I had piano lessons around the time of the first and second grade, but it didn't really stick. A bit later I remember going to the band teacher telling him I wanted to play trumpet thinking of this song. He asked me to hum America the Beautiful. I wasn't much of a singer and I didn't do it very well. He told me I had not musical ability and I could not be in the band.
Next time you have a dictionary handy look up bad teacher. I'm sure they have a picture of him.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Expect randomness.
I've come a long way since Telstar
I love this, among many other thing.
The tags will fill up with genres as I go. That's about the only rhyme or reason there may be.
Busi Mhlongo - We Baba Omncane
Busi, may she ever rest in blissful peace, was a once in eternity spirit.
Yehlisan'umoya ma-Afrika
http://www.mg.co.za/article/2010-06-18-subverting-and-owning-maskanda
I love this, among many other thing.
The tags will fill up with genres as I go. That's about the only rhyme or reason there may be.
Busi Mhlongo - We Baba Omncane
Busi, may she ever rest in blissful peace, was a once in eternity spirit.
Yehlisan'umoya ma-Afrika
http://www.mg.co.za/article/2010-06-18-subverting-and-owning-maskanda
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
The Music I Love
I love all type of music. From the simplest folk guitar to elaborate Indian symphonies. Of what draws me to a particular song or artists talent and skill are important, but there is a certain undefinable quality of hearing some piece of the performers self in what they do. For this reason I'm not a big opera fan. I can appreciate the story telling and the sheer talent of the performers, but there is an artifice and pretense in the style that often buries the human being.
As a consequence I am drawn to folk and popular music styles because there is often a strong sense of the individuals involved.
I grew up in the 1960s and '70s. The flowering of Rock as exemplified by the Beatles and the California Folk/Psychedelic explosion are viscerally music for me. I have long since broadened my tastes to include Indian music, African, Latin and all manner of Art music. About the only thing I avoid is popular commercial music. Most of what ends up on the radio in the US is abysmal.
As a consequence I am drawn to folk and popular music styles because there is often a strong sense of the individuals involved.
I grew up in the 1960s and '70s. The flowering of Rock as exemplified by the Beatles and the California Folk/Psychedelic explosion are viscerally music for me. I have long since broadened my tastes to include Indian music, African, Latin and all manner of Art music. About the only thing I avoid is popular commercial music. Most of what ends up on the radio in the US is abysmal.
Songs Like This Were Just In The Air
As a child music was like air, you didn't even notice you were swimming in it.
About Memories of Music
I love music. I always have. I tend to flood my FaceBook profile and LiveJournal pages with videos and GrooveShark links. I probably overdo it. This will be where I indulge my musical exhibitionism. If people like my tastes they'll find me.
One of the First Songs I Remember
Down at Jay and Ritchie's house, for Saturday morning cartoons. They had a HiFi and we played this song just about every week.
Lindley Armstrong "Spike" Jones (December 14, 1911 – May 1, 1965)
Lindley Armstrong "Spike" Jones (December 14, 1911 – May 1, 1965)
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