Bradleigh.

Ruth 3:5

She said to her, “All that you say I will do.”

Lucio Battisti “Un’avventura,” 1969.

Give it to 2:38.  Stax, eat your heart out.

Matthew 2:18

“A VOICE WAS HEARD IN RAMAH,
WEEPING AND GREAT MOURNING,
RACHEL WEEPING FOR HER CHILDREN;
AND SHE REFUSED TO BE COMFORTED,
BECAUSE THEY WERE NO MORE.”

With school in full rampant glory going strong and plowing ahead right now, life has become subjected to little more than the day-to-day, routine serving only as a frame for changing attitudes, emotions, ideas, & my mind has been occupied with such.  There is a quote from Breton’s “First Surrealist Manifesto” that has had my brain working overtime to deconstruct, figure out, and the parallels between his words and my own worldly view stick out like ornery splinters in a sore thumb –

The mind of the dreaming man is fully satisfied with whatever happens to it. The agonizing question of possibility does not arise. Kill, plunder more quickly, love as much as you wish. And if you die, are you not sure of being roused from the dead? Let yourself be led. Events will not tolerate deferment. You have no name. Everything is inestimably easy.

Everything is inestimably easy.  Everything.  is inestimably easy.

I see these words & I grin foolishly and resplendently when I take walks in fading October evenings.  These are such American times in which we live, such days of excess & worry and complete unbridled debate & competition.  Presidencies, lapel pins, “that one”s…where are we going with this?  Politics are a bore & I long daily for a good hike to take or a nice lawn on which to lay my back and laugh and swear loudly.

I have absolutely no seque for what I am about to launch into, & everything I have just written has only been a feeble silly attempt to get at it, but now I’m stuck.  So I will just get on with it: African-tinged musical delicacies, or songs straight from the world’s most sadly forgotten continent.  For so much controversy, taboo, and confusion surrounding the nations of Africa, there is just as much culture, background, terror, & uncultivated undiscovered art/beauty/art.  I have been entrenched in Paul Simon’s Graceland & Rhythm of the Saints projects, & have been meaning to share these songs that split themselves between cheesy 80’s musicianship & Zimbabwean grace, for they are true examples of neo-colonialized performance.  And whether or not you think the idea is a good one or a bad one, more dangerous & silly than actually beneficial, to deny the attractiveness of these songs is foolish, is…well…stupid.

So, Listen.

Diamonds On the Soles of Her Shoes.  [The percussion free for all at the end is of especial interest...& Ladysmith...don't even get me started]

The Obvious Child.

Under African Skies.  [fe/male harmonies.  Wonderful so wonderful.]

Okay I won’t beat it to death, BUT I will add these songs at the end as an addendum, & these are perhaps more important to my purpose.  Songs from Nigerian Special, a 2-disc set of Nigerian jams from the 1970s, each one worthy of 300 listens at the very least.  See the culture, see the idealism, see the romanticized beauty, the language of a mysterious tongue!  See the way the guitar sounds absolutely jangly & mystified.  I can’t describe what this does for me.  Major major props to my good friend Miss Ruby for introducing me to all of this, take it for what it is, dance to it if you can.

Leo Fadaka & the Heroes: “Blak Sound”

Mono Mono: “Ema Kowa Iasa Ile Wa”

The Semi Colon: “Nekwaha Semi Colon”

Godwin Ezike and the Ambassadors: “Torri Wowo”

So.  Good.  See you all soon probably.

Titus 2:15

These things speak and exhort and reprove with all authority. Let no one disregard you.

Every now & again everyone has that moment where they come across something that fits so perfectly into themselves that they wonder why they hadn’t discovered it sooner — it almost makes you question chance, question karma or dharma or whichever one applies here, almost makes you question your own spiritual inclinations, stand up & say, “Right!  Right! Why now!  Goodness.”  Today has got to be one of those days, this afternoon has got me singin’ “Oh Lawdy yes!”

Because I started out my day folded knock-kneed on my front porch steps picking my ukulele with the crack along the back & humming “I Want to Sing that Rock N Roll” & because I have slipped this disc into my computer & I don’t even need an entire first listen to make me grin, make me shake & make me love.  Because this woman, this Gillian Welch, her absence has been felt unconciously I’m sure, & this is it for me.  This is where it fits, this is where my days should be heading.  This woman, this singer songwriter banjo picker six string strummer muted cap-slapper, it begins & ends with this music right here.  So forgive me while I wax bloggingly & share with you these tunes of my recent months.  Do not pray for affectation, it slips in un-noticed.

You do not need to be a Welch fan prematurely or with immediacy, you just need your attention re-tuned and your patience drawn out and flexed.  Take a seat, take a listen.  Take a mug, take a sip, ‘lectrify your soul.

“Red Clay Halo”

“I Want to Sing that Rock N Roll”

“Caleb Meyer” (for the headbangers?)

“Time (the Revelator)” (what an interview!)

“Annabelle” (if educational powerpoints are your thing)

Nothing more to say, I am impressed beyond my ages, beyond my vocabulary.  Instant timeless.