Showing posts with label David Bowie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Bowie. Show all posts

Saturday, 16 January 2016

Saturday Evenings: Stay In, Sit Up and Switch On

Don’t be a dick”. Those were the simple words with which Laurie Penny, contributing editor for New Statesman, ended a recent article for the weekly magazine. As New Year resolutions go, hers is as good as they come and one I would easily follow. If only I believed in New Year’s resolutions. The subject she and other writers had explored was the Ten Commandments and how to either re-write some of them or invent new ones for our fast-developing 21st century.

“Don’t be a dick”. Easier said than done. We grow up and in the process acquire ways of thinking that very often conflict with other people’s points of view. Rather than trying to reach a compromise, we try to beat them, to win them over. We put our side of the argument over theirs. We mock them, we deride them, we call them names. En bref, we behave like “dicks”. Even, when truth is on our side, when we can present evidence and this evidence is real, palpable, physical, we still behave like “dicks”.

Could 2016 be the year when we do less of this and we behave more humanely? I know it is difficult to keep a straight face when a Donald Trump-supporting voter lets rip into Muslims, Mexicans and black people. But we need to understand that, just like in Britain the likes of Nigel Farage and his merry band of immigrant-bashers won’t go away any time soon, in the States it is not Donald Trump who is the problem but the system that supports him. You can be a “dick” all you want towards his supporters and yet, the only outcome will be an enhancement of their sense of disenfranchisement.

Based on my personal experience, I can vouch for clear communication, respect, talking and a willingness to compromise as fundamental conflict-solving tools. Most of the time, of course. For a dialogue to take place you need two or more people. And one or more of those people willing to listen to you. But we should also be willing to listen.


Live life to the full, without fear

We do not have all the answers. Part of what makes us human is that eternal search for the meaning of our lives. Not just from a philosophical point of view, but also from an emotional, spiritual and mental one. 2016 has already kicked off with a fear-inducing mood. Some of it is real. Indonesia, as I write, Paris last week, Istanbul in Turkey a few days ago. Some of it, however, has been manufactured: more armed coppers on the streets of Britain (how will they stop an act of terror?), Denmark telling refugees to hand over their valuables in order to pay for their accommodation, a German town banning male migrants from its public indoor swimming pool. The message is clear: be afraid, be very afraid, they don’t look like you, they don’t sound like you and they don’t behave like you.

Sadly, every time this happens we lose another little bit of our humanity. Men do not grope because they are born in a particular country or belong to a specific culture. They do it because we still live in a patriarchy-ruled world. In most countries. That means developed and Third World nations and in between. Robbers are not gender-, or nationality-, or culture-specific. They are robbers, criminals. See them as such. Try them as such.

Since the beginning of the year I have gone out on more bike journeys around London, details of which will be included in future posts. Every time I go out it never ceases to amaze me how open and carefree people are in this mind-boggling (on a bike, it is) but gorgeous city. I see very little fear on people’s faces. I have seen resignation, doubt, uncertainty but not  a lot of fear. That has made me even more resolute in my decision to choose life over fear. Yes, I know that the worst can happen to me just like it could happen to anyone else in another country, or city or town. But, I cannot allow politicians, such as Donald Trump, or David Cameron, or Nigel Farage, to manipulate me, to make me believe that we live in the worst of worlds. And whilst I will politely disagree with their supporters and will try to engage them in conversation and will attempt – with every single fibre of my body – to reach a compromise, I will carry on believing that we live in the best possible of worlds. In fact, it could become even better if we follow Laurie Penny’s advice: “don’t be a dick”.

When I was still in college (high school for US readers), a friend of mine played me Space Oddity on his battered stereo. I didn’t think much of it at the time, to be honest. It was only when I was in uni and visiting another friend that I got hooked on Bowie on the spot. My mate used to live right next to the Japanese embassy in Havana and in those days people used to place a metallic coat hanger strategically outside their houses to try to get a signal from foreign (mainly American) channels via embassies (they had their own prerogatives, don't ask). It was the only alternative we, Cubans, had to the all-powerful, Fidel-run media. The images on the telly were fuzzy at best, but on clear days (and nights) the reception was decent enough to get a good image. MTV and MLB became our new “addictions”. One evening the video of Life on Mars came on and… well, the rest is history. Starman, Heroes, you name it, I sang them.

The death of one trail-blazer like David Bowie, is an accident. But when you lose such a versatile actor like Alan Rickman, then the whole thing could be thought of as carelessness. As it happens, on Christmas Day just gone, we all watched Love Actually,. This is a film that still manages to make me feel sick without any actual vomit coming out of my mouth. Even for someone with a sugar tooth like me, this sucrose-coated film is too much to take. Yet, the standout scene for me is between Rowan Atkinson and Alan Rickman in the jewellery section. This moment encapsulates everything I learnt when doing improvisational theatre: the constant status-swap (Rickman in control at first, Atkinson reacting and then both actors reversing the roles), the timing, the shortness of the scene (just under three minutes). It is pure magic and it is how I want to remember the man who has made me watch Die Hard more times than I care to admit. Rest in peace Bowie and Rickman, you will both be missed.

© 2016

Photo taken by the blog author

Next Post: “London, my London”, to be published on Wednesday 20th January at 6pm (GMT)

Thursday, 4 February 2010

Food, Music, Food, Music, Food, Music... Ad Infinitum

And the winning dish is...? Sausage hotpot. With vegetarian sausages.

For a few months now the most-requested recipe chez moi has been a hearty, filling, delicious concoction that came in a cookery book for children. It is easy to prepare and the whole family has reached a unanimous decision: Thursday is sausage hotpot day. Saying that, though, my wife and children were not very impressed a couple of weekends ago when I revealed that I used the left-over fat from the Sunday roast to pan-fry the onions, garlic, sausages and the rest of the ingredients. Cue cringeing faces all round the table. Sometimes the Sunday roast left-over fat has been in the fridge for a few weeks. Or months. But, as I explain to them, that's what we do in Cuba, so, get used to it, my lovelies, it's just a lesson on multiculturalism.

Back to this tasty recipe and the music to go with it. Here're the ingredients, preparation and melodies I recommend you listen to, as the warmth of this superb dish serenades your belly with an ardent culinary lullaby.

Sausage Hotpot

Ingredients:

2 eating apples (fruit provides a natural sweetness and an extra vitamin boost)
2 tbsp olive oil
6-8 sausages (we use Linda McCartney ones)
1 onion (chopped)
1 carrot (diced)
2 garlic cloves (finely chopped)
1 tbsp mixed herbs
110g (4oz) lean bacon cut into bite-sized pieces (optional)
400g (14oz) tinned borlotti or pinto beans (drained and rinsed)
400ml chicken or vegetable stock
4 tbsp tinned chopped tomatoes
1 tbsp tomato purée
Salt and pepper

Carefully remove the skin of the apples using a vegetable peeler. Quarter them and remove the cores. Cut the apples into bite-sized pieces. Preheat the oven to 200C (400F/Gas 6). Heat the oil (or Sunda roast left-over fat in my case, oh, yes, I'm sticking to it) in a large saucepan or ovenproof pan and cook the sausages for 5 minutes, or until browned all over. Remove the sausages from the pan and set aside. Put the onion and carrot into the pan and fry over a medium heat for 5 mnutes, stirring frequently. Next, add the garlic, bacon and herbs, stir well, and cook for 6 minutes. (Transfer to a large casserole dish if you aren't using an overproof pan). Add the beans, tomatoes, tomato purée, apples and sausages and stir. Pour in the stock and bring to the boil. Add the beans and stir well. Cover with a lid and place in the preheated oven. Cook for 25 minutes. The sauce should reduce and thicken and the apples will become tender. Take care when removing the casserole dish from the oven as the hotpot will very hot. Season with salt and pepper. I serve this with rice for my daughter and me and jacket potato for my wife and son.

My first track to go with this yummy recipe is one of my favourite songs ever. And no, it was not originally written by Manhattan Transfer, although it was part of their 1987 album 'Brasil'. Djavan is one of those composers whose music is difficult to label, but not hard to like. He's got the lyrics, the rhythm and the voice, oh yes, the voice. Enjoy.



And if we're discussing voices, I dare you, my fellow blogger/reader to listen to the next track and not to be carried away. I challenge you to remain passive and blasé. What's that I see in your hand? A lighter? And why are both your hands in the air now, waving from side to side? I knew you would succumb to this melody in the same way we all do at home to the might of the sausage hotpot every Thursday. Just, please, don't set the house on fire. As for you, sir, step forward, David, or Ziggy, I don't care what you call yourself anymore, to me, tonight, you're Mr Voice.



And to round this post up, I bring you a heavy, funky, sultry dose of acid jazz courtesy of one of the better bands out there, St Germain. You loved them last summer when I uploaded Rose Rouge. This number is more laid-back but it still exudes musicianship and togetherness. Many thanks and as we say in Spanish: Buen provecho.



Copyright 2010

Next Post: 'Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music', to be published on Sunday 7th February at 10am (GMT)

Tuesday, 21 October 2008

Killer Opening Songs (David Bowie - Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed)

What happens when a Killer Opening Song is not a Killer Opening Song? No, no, K.O.S. is not trying to confuse you my dear reader, but recently K.O.S. felt at a loss after listening to a particular record: David Bowie's 1969 'Space Oddity'. Our Weekly Section on Great Introductory Album Tracks was already familiar with the record from its days in uni, yet its attention had always been captured, not by the title track with its famous 'Ground control to Major Tom' line, but by the second tune 'Unwashed And Somewhat Slightly Dazed', a raw rock'n'roll affair that threw K.O.S. off its stride the first time it heard it. K.O.S. has already blogged about this particular song before (you can read the article here) but in essence it can be summed up as terrestrial bedlam of the good kind.

This conundrum put K.O.S. to think of all those tracks that deserve to be in pole position in a record and yet end up being number five, eight or last. K.O.S. is aware that this opinion is completely subjective. After all its own definition of a Killer Opening Song is 'Composition at the beginning of an album whose aim is to make a strong and vivid impression on the listener, thus encouraging him/her to continue to listen to the record until the end'. So, is giving priority to musical numbers whose authors deemed not worthy enough to be placed at the beginning of their record contradictory? Yes, but by now you should be used to K.O.S.'s occasionally wilful and capricious ways. That's why, for the next few weeks it will be uploading tracks that it believes should have been Killer Opening Songs but never made the cut. Think of it as a way to redress the balance and right a wrong. You could also (unfairly, K.O.S. hastens to add) think of it as a way of K.O.S. uploading clips of songs that are very dear to it and whose position in an album disqualifies them from being included in a weekly section that it is all about Killer Opening Songs. For the time being, here's David Bowie with 'Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed'. And also for good measure, K.O.S. included the video of 'Space Oddity', too.

Note: The link below will take you to last.fm. It's a fantastic website and I can't recommend it highly enough. Download your own scrobbler, sit back and enjoy the lovely surprises last.fm will throw at you. Thanks.

'Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed'



Copyright 2008

Saturday, 5 January 2008

Road Songs (Andantino)



















Disclaimer: This post is not an endorsement of bad driving and the blogger cannot be held responsible for any actions resulting from reading this post. Also, the following should NOT be attempted under any circumstances whilst doing your driving test. You will fail!

A few months ago I was driving around the leafy suburbs of Muswell Hill and Crouch End where the landscape varies dramatically from one road to the other, especially in the former case. Sometimes it is flat, sometimes it is slopy. On approaching a mini round-about half-way up a hill I looked to my right and noticed that a few cars were coming down the street. As it is customary in these cases, I brought the car to a halt softly, put my handbrake on and the gear into neutral. That did not last long, though, as I revved the car slowly until the needle went up to 2 and brought the clutch back up delicately whilst at the same time releasing the hand-brake. The vehicle remained motionless for a few seconds and as soon as the traffic cleared from my right I was ready to go.

This course of action is not a lesson you are taught when you are learning how to drive by your instructor. He/She would deem it unwise and unsafe. In fact, it was actually my wife who first suggested it as a way to be prepared to continue my journey without delaying the traffic behind or stalling the car. It got me thinking, though. Some songs are like that. A journey through a musical spectrum where suddenly they go uphill and come to a round-about similar to the one I encountered on that occasion and then they stop. Momentarily, however. Just for a few seconds. Far from putting their hand-brake up, though, they dither a bit and let the car gears reach the biting point. It is normally no more than a few seconds, until the green man changes to red, until the last car on their right hand-side has passed. And then the journey continues.

To illustrate this I have gathered a selection of clips from youtube.com as usual. My first offering comes courtesy of one of the most prolific and influential musicians Cuba has ever produced. He has already been featured on this blog in my 'Autumn Songs' selection and at the time the feedback was very warm and effusive. So, I thought it was apposite to bring him back. Ernesto Lecuona, El Maestro. By the way, at 2:46, watch the pianist's right hand as it glides over the piano ready to come down softly on the black and white keys in order to continue the journey after the uphill start. Think of the biting point. Sublime!



One of the most common mistakes people make when they choose not to put their handbrake up whilst doing an uphill start is that their car rolls backwards. This is a very serious error which could cause an accident (read the disclaimer at the beginning of this post). To avoid this, as you go up a slope and are coming closer to either a round-about or a set of traffic lights you should stop slowly and ease back into first gear the same way Caetano Veloso does it in this live rendition of 'Girl from Ipanema', the eponymous composition by Joao Gilberto. At 1:02 look how Caetano joins in without interrupting the musical flow. Brilliant.



He was extravagant and eccentric in the 70s. But what you can never deny is that his musical output was second to none. And in the same way a car manoeuvre like the one I have been referring to so far can seem odd, his choices were sometimes criticised or just derided. But where would pop music be without David Robert Jones aka David Bowie? Classic.



It's Roger on percussion that really does it for me on this track. The way he bangs on those conga drums so ominously, keeping the beat going, weaving bass, guitar and vocal into one thread is a joy to see. But what also kills me (pun unintended) is watching Freddie shortly before his untimely death. His voice singing to the inevitable. That split second before the cars coming on your right pass in front of your eyes and continue their journey is the same split second in which your whole life is shown to you as a slide show before you are gone. Masterful.



Uphill starts are unpredictable and certain bands music is, too. Uphill starts where clutch is slightly raised whilst the right foot is firmly glued to the gas pedal keeping the needle in number 2 and the handbrake stays down have chutzpah. The same goes for some bands. The same goes for this band. They had a carefree joie de vivre, a raw energy that consumed the listener. Recently they staged a comeback at the O2 arena in London and their insouciance was still there for everyone to see. Watch the way guitar and voice enter a playful battlefield where little skirmishes here and there build up the momentum in this famous track. Led Zeppelin never did things half-way and you, too, should be prepared to take your chances when it comes to heading up that hill and braking slowly just before that big road ahead of you. Just enjoy that tiny instant when all the gears in your car are huffing and puffing to provide you with the magic of the 'biting point' moment. Amazing.



This is all for this week. Happy driving!

Copyright 2007

Wednesday, 11 July 2007

I've got a song in my head

I've got a song in my head and I can't stop. I've got a song in my head and I continue to bop. I've got a slender song in my head that can lift its body a third off the ground and look down onto me . I've got a song in my head that can flatten its neck sheltering me in the hood of its larynx. I've got a song in my head that slithers along, nestles in the crook of my arm and stays in, warm and uninvited. I've got a song in my head that is solitary and territorial; it prefers deep forests, but can also range in open areas. I've got a song in my head that, from the first time I heard it, has overpowered me from any angle, using its puny size to knock me off my balance.

It's a mad song, it is, my song. It talks about a phallus in pigtails and blood in my nose. It describes how my tissue is rotting/where the rats chew my bones. I love my song, because it is mine, you see. I know, I know, it was written by one David Bowie but I've appropriated it now, just like IT has got a hold on me. When I first got 'Space Oddity' years ago, it was the title track I was familiar with. But it was the second song, 'Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed' that got me hooked to the album. It starts with a simple acoustic arrangement and Bowie singing in a nonchalant manner Spy, spy, pretty girl/I see you see me through your window/Don't turn your nose up/Well, you can if you need to, you won't be the first or last/It must strain you to look down so far from your father's house/And I know what a louse like me in his house could do for you and suddenly... pandemonium.

The guitar grows muscled forelimbs with which to render the listener powerless, there's a harmonica that lets rip right into your soul, and doesn't let go until you lie on the floor, motionless, still, immobile, from having exhausted yourself through pure musical ecstasy.
I've got a song in my head, I've got a song in my head that makes me hop and bop, and I won't stop till I drop... I've got a song in my head...
Copyright 2007

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