Autumn Songs (1st Mov 'Allegro', 2nd Mov 'Lento', 3rd Mov 'Moderato'

Hi, don't stay there, outside, it's a bit nippy these days, chilly mornings and misty windows. Come in, passe em casa.

Autumn Songs wraps up this week as the clocks have moved back one hour and the nights have begun to ramble forwards hungrily, seeking out early evening shadows to feed on.

My first clip comes courtesy of Tribalistas, a band whose work I cherish. Amongst the many jewels in their self-titled album 'Tribalistas', this piece stood out from the very beginning. It's about (I think, as I don't speak any Portuguese, but do understand it fairly well) welcoming people who pass by your house. And that's what I feel like doing in these days of grim skies and plummeting temperatures. Offer someone a bowl of hot soup. Chicken and onion anyone?My second song is a classic, and yet never ceases to amaze me. The album version begins with a sublime, delicate brushing of guitar strings and then Mick Jagger's tremulous voice initiates the passage of rite to the supplicant's world. Marvellous and it always leaves me speechless.Haydée Milanés is one of those Cuban singers with a lot of baggage in her life and a big reputation to live up to. None of this is her fault. Daughter of the famous Cuban singer-songwriter, Pablo Milanés, Haydee's solo effort has been playing endlessly on my stereo at home and on my CD player everywhere I go. The reason? One of the better-produced albums to have come out of Cuba in the last few years. This clip serves as a reminder (as if it was necessary to remind anyone) that Cuba is not just salsa and Afro-Cuban, but different layers of an onion that if you come too close to will leave you in a lachrymose and befuddled state of mind.For winter songs I will be traipsing through Asian, African and Latin American nations unearthing those hidden gems that give us shelter against this inclement weather. Yes, do expect a few songs in English, too.

Thanks.

Copyright 2007

Autumn Songs (Andante)

Autumn Sun has a peculiarity that it's not hard to discern. It's a cheat. You look through the window thinking that you can still wear that sleeveless T-shirt, left over from a summer that never was, only to find that Autumn Sun has other ideas in mind. It shines, yes, but coldy. Sometimes I feel its gaze on my bare legs whilst I'm on my bike and can actually hear it sniggering behind my back.

Autumn Sun reminds me of desert Sun. Not that I've ever been to a desert in my life before. But I recently read a book whose action took place in the desert. The book was rubbish, but the description of the Sahara was both poetic and inviting. If only the author had left the cliches out. And this idea led to another one, that of the blues. According to some experts the blues, that quintessential American product of early 20th century came via the griots, West African troubadours, mainly in the regions of Senegal and Mali, who entertained people whilst at the same time telling tales. some of them of a contemporary nature. In that sense, Ali Farka Toure (RIP), is the ultimate singer, narrator and in this following clip he also extemporises his views on Black Americans. Some food for thought here.

My second clip this week is yet another contradiction, but please, bear with me on this one. The beginning of the video shows the Chillies by a beach in the warm, early-morning Californian sun. And yet, to me it sums up what is great about the transition between summer and autumn. Maybe because of my Cuban blood but the atmosphere in the clip reminds me of late night/early mornings sitting on the Malecón, Havana, with a group of friends, with a guitar and a bottle of rum. October and November in Cuba have that special melancholy feeling of lethargy, idly sitting around a guy who can't sing and can barely play the guitar, but who knows the whole repertoire of Silvio Rodríguez and Pablo Milanés. And that's enough, you don't care. Like here, you don't care. The surfers, you don't care. The boat mooring on the beach. You don't care. And that's what autumn is to me. Care-free Sunday mornings soaking up the misty Autumn Sun through the bedroom window. Breathe it in, folks! And enjoy the video.

My third choice this week comes courtesy of Mssrs Miles Davies and John Coltrane. The sound of jazz is the sound of autumn, or viceversa. Its crisp, clear notes sound like the crunchy leaves we tread on as we walk. And having these two maestros together is a relic from the distant past that we must dig out and listen to just like that old sleeveless woolie vest you insist on wearing over your shirt or blouse as soon as the first October winds announce autumn's arrival.





And that's all we have time for today. Expect some flamenco to come your way next week, plus a little bit of fado, a rhythm whose middle name is 'Autumn' and as the nights grow longer and the days shorter, my dear readers/posters/fellow bloggers, I think that Marisa's soothing voice will become our companion for the next six months, or so.


Copyright 2007