“Suddenly, I realised what this man’s problem was

26 04 2008

- and it is one shared by most insomniacs. They are far too lively minded. They are the opposite of passive. They do not want to be bored. But boredom is, actually, exactly what they need. And, I’d tentatively add, acceptance. Chris Idzikowski says that to ‘try’ and sleep is worst of all. Sleep dislikes scrutiny. It is shy - like a nocturnal animal. Perhaps the clue to surviving a long night’s journey into day is not to try at all.”

Interesting article on insomnia by Kate Kellaway in The Observer





A simple equation for you to solve…

26 04 2008

Off Track volume 1

+

= ?





Schmootball

23 04 2008

was disappointing on the whole. 5 Tibetans, then off to bed for me.





King of the Ukrainian fiddlers

21 04 2008

was, as I have just discovered, a man named Pawlo Humeniuk, a track of whose, “Urkainska weselia w Americzki” appears on the rather wonderful “Stranded in the USA“, released by the German Trikont label (my love of this label and the obscure yet utterly delightful music they release (klezmer, yodelling, Bavarian folk, disaster songs - browse their site to get an idea) cannot be put into words…)

Anyway, this is a collection of songs recorded by (mainly) European immigrants into the US in the early 20th century for the burgeoning ethnic music market - Upton Sinclair’s “Jungle” gives an insight into the world inhabited by these new Americans, and although the pride in Irishness has been subsumed by rampant hedonism, there are still many proud ethnic groups in the US who celebrate their native cultures (and in some cases act as a repository for traditions wiped out in their homelands by war/politics/modernity (delete as appropriate)) - and strangely, the clearest example I can think of at the moment is the first half an hour of “The Deer Hunter“, with an entire traditional (as far as I can tell) Rusyn wedding translated to late-1960’s Pennsylvania.

Anyway, I digress, this CD is, if you are at all interested in some of the more obscure roots of American popular music (beyond the clear blues and Irish folk that can be heard in traditional country music and all its descendants, including rock’n'roll), packed with Klezmer and Central European (both of which have recently had a renaissance amongst the young in London), but also Italian (in the style of the great crooners - and probably an influence on Sinatra et al), Austrian, Swiss, German, but most interestingly, Finnish. Finnish has never appeared to me (in the little of it I have ever seen written, or even less heard spoken) as the most musical of languages, apart of course from Fredi in 1976:

And yet they are musical, and even if understand less than a single word, there is a sense of yearning that the Finnish songs share with the ditties from the other supposedly more passionate and emotional ethnic groups. Gloomy, yes, but passionately gloomy (if such a thing is possible).





Poinsettia care

21 04 2008

is harder than childcare. It had wilted. And started to drop leaves. Unlike a child you cannot ask it to point where it hurts. So I checked on the internet. Not enough light. Or so I thought. I moved it to the living room - hours of indirect sunlight (as advised - too much is as bad as not enough). Too much water. So I watered it the way they advise. Leave it to stand for 20 minutes, then leave to drain. Still limp. Leaves drop. So I followed the directions of how to make it bloom again in Xmas - cutting it back to 8 inches. They believe that this holds it in a Peter Pan state, in which it simply reblooms each year and the energy is all put into attractive red-coloured growth. Is this morally right? Did Percy Thrower ever have to deal with this kind of thing? Has my life reached the level of gardening tips on my blog? In other news, I have a mysterious parcel to pick up from the Post Office…





Curious

21 04 2008

I mentioned car insurance in passing over at BIB just yesterday. Today I have masses of spam comments related to “auto insurance”. Coincidence?





Finno-Ugricism

19 04 2008

has been the flavour of the evening. ‘Leningrad cowboys go America‘ and now ‘Taxidermia‘. Oh and goulash for dinner from the Polish shop (does that count?).





His father died and left him a little farm in New England.

18 04 2008

All the long black funeral cars left the scene
And the boy was just standing there alone
Looking at the shiny red tractor
Him and his daddy used to sit inside
And circle the blue fields and grease the night.
It was if someone had spread butter on all the fine points of the stars
‘Cause when he looked up they started to slip.
Then he put his head in the crux of his arm
And he started to drift, drift to the belly of a ship,
Let the ship slide open, and he went inside of it
And saw his daddy ‘hind the control board streamin’ beads of light,
He saw his daddy ‘hind the control board,
And he was very different tonight
‘Cause he was not human, he was not human.

And then the little boy’s face lit up with such naked joy
That the sun burned around his lids and his eyes were like two suns,
White lids, white opals, seeing everything just a little bit too clearly
And he looked around and there was no black ship in sight,
No black funeral cars, nothing except for him the raven
And fell on his knees and looked up and cried out,
“No, daddy, don’t leave me here alone,
Take me up, daddy, to the belly of your ship,
Let the ship slide open and I’ll go inside of it
Where you’re not human, you are not human.”

But nobody heard the boy’s cry of alarm.
Nobody there ‘cept for the birds around the New England farm
And they gathered in all directions, like roses they scattered
And they were like compass grass coming together into the head of a shaman bouquet
Slit in his nose and all the others went shooting
And he saw the lights of traffic beckoning like the hands of Blake
Grabbing at his cheeks, taking out his neck,
All his limbs, everything was twisted and he said,
“I won’t give up, won’t give up, don’t let me give up,
I won’t give up, come here, let me go up fast,
Take me up quick, take me up, up to the belly of a ship
And the ship slides open and I go inside of it where I am not human.”

I am helium raven and this movie is mine,
So he cried out as he stretched the sky,
Pushing it all out like latex cartoon, am I all alone in this generation ?
We’ll just be dreaming of animation night and day
And won’t let up, won’t let up and I see them coming in,
Oh, I couldn’t hear them before, but I hear ‘em now,
It’s a radar scope in all silver and all platinum lights
Moving in like black ships, they were moving in, streams of them,
And he put up his hands and he said, “It’s me, it’s me,
I’ll give you my eyes, take me up, oh now please take me up,
I’m helium raven waitin’ for you, please take me up,
Don’t let me here,” the son, the sign, the cross,
Like the shape of a tortured woman, the true shape of a tortured woman,
The mother standing in the doorway letting her sons
No longer presidents but prophets
They’re all dreaming they’re gonna bear the prophet,
He’s gonna run through the fields dreaming in animation
It’s all gonna split his skull
It’s gonna come out like a black bouquet shining
Like a fist that’s gonna shoot them up
Like light, like Mohammed Boxer
Take them up up up up up up
Oh, let’s go up, up, take me up, I’ll go up,
I’m going up, I’m going up
Take me up, I’m going up, I’ll go up there
Go up go up go up go up up up up up up up
Up, up to the belly of a ship.
Let the ship slide open and we’ll go inside of it
Where we are not human, we’re not human.

Well, there was sand, there were tiles,
The sun had melted the sand and it coagulated
Like a river of glass
When it hardened he looked at the surface
He saw his face
And where there were eyes were just two white opals, two white opals,
Where there were eyes there were just two white opals
And he looked up and the rays shot
And he saw raven comin’ in
And he crawled on his back and he went up
Up up up up up up
Sha da do wop, da shaman do way, sha da do wop, da shaman do way,
Sha da do wop, da shaman do way, sha da do wop, da shaman do way,
Sha da do wop, da shaman do way,
We like birdland.

“Birdland”, The Patti Smith Group

Deep in Americana 1900-2008 at the moment.





The worst thing

15 04 2008

about this insomnia at the moment is the fact that it is costing me money. I curse the day I set up an iTunes account. It is all just too easy. I used to have to trawl Soho record shops looking for obscure funk singles, or modern German latin jazz EPs, or compilations of breaks from small towns in the US Midwest. Now it is all there - I just have to search for anything that takes my fancy. And then I check the record label’s website and see something else. And so it continues. And for just 79p a track. And I can not buy the b-side of a single if it is too awful.

Tonight’s foray has brought unusual hiphop and beats from Palov & Mishkin and a compilation of jazz, latin and afrobeat influenced tracks from the German label Jazz & Milk. Nice.





New music

6 04 2008

Put on a record

CDs for one and all - January to March 2008. In alphabetical order by title. You know what to do.

Acid, Pot Or Pills - Horace Silver
Africa Mokili Mobimba - Joseph Kabasele & African Jazz
Al Rahman - Mombasa
…As Bond Did - Bumps
Balcón Sin Flores - Savath & Savalas
Before… (Vocal) - Aim & QNC
Bembe - Grupo Oba-Llu
Black Dog - Led Zeppelin
Blessed - U-Roy
Body Baby (An Optimo Espacio Edit) - Pharoahe Monch
Bugle Call Banjo - Bluegrass Travellers
Coach Me (Again And Again) With In Flagranti - Black Devil Disco Club
Creation Myth - Map of Africa
De Tu Amorme Enamore - Yotu El Y Ella
Dirty Old Man - Irene Reid
Do Your Thing - Zapata
Donkey Ride - Quantic & Mr Scruff
Every Other Night - BNC
Girls On Film - Kokolo
Good & Bad (Special Jazz Mix) - Povo
Grass Roots - Black Grass
Hippie Priest Bum-Out - LCD Soundsystem
I Want Your Love - James Mason
Jackie - Scott Walker
Love Without Sound - White Noise
Make A Rainbow - Benny Sings
Mamie Is Blue - Faust
Miro Bop - Miroslav Vitous
Murder - James Pants
No Pussy Blues - Grinderman
Orientação (European version) - Tuze de Abreu
Oua-Train - Har-You Percussion Group
Overpowered - Róisín Murphy
Pop Your Corn (Parts 1 & 2) - The Rivingtons
Preludium Cis Moll - Josef Vobruba Se Svym Orchestrem
Rainstorm - Kormac
Red China Blues - Miles Davis
Sexual Healing - Hot 8 Brass Band
Subaqueous - Scuba
Super Good - Ленинград
Telefone - Walter Wanderley
Todo Tiene Su Final - Willie Colon & Hector Lavoe
Tu Y Tu K Mirar… Yo Y Mi Cancon - Los Ángeles Negros
Un Tzigan Avea O Casa - Fulgerica & The Mahala Gipsies
Untrue - Burial
W.A.R. - Trusme
We Did Dat Beat - Sygaire & Defcon
West Coast Poplock - Ronnie Hudson
You Can’t Always Get What You Want - Maxaynn