The morning demons need to spill out of their dreamtime jackets 
Given words in this verse.
When the firings say in so many complex ways that you weren't there, mother, or 
how can I possibly know what to do -
now we know it is the hurt not the facts
that needs to flex from that compressed absence -
and while your body practices 
strange watchers will continue to people your dreams.

Don't believe the shapes they take 
Believe each opportunity to breathe out.
All is not lost.

There are a couple of legendary double bass pieces … as „Jade Vision“ by Scott LaFaro or „Silence“ by Charly Haden, „Pendulum“ by Eberhard Weber … Starting here, triggers more pieces, yes, for sure …

One of the strongest resonating bass pieces is no doubt „Believer“ by Carlos Bica, released in 2006 on the Enja label with his group AZUL, the still existing trio of Carlos, Jim and Frank augmented by guest DJ Illvibe. „Believer“ is music, die das Herz höher schlagen lässt und die Seele singen lässt. Und so viel mehr. And much much more … 

„Believer“ brilliantly unleashes the inherent forces of the ostinato in the footsteps of Ravel from a truly deeper place. It is beautifully cycling,it is suggestive, hymnic and intimate. It circles freely, it swings, it rocks. It gives birth to melodic flights of fancy and keeps all connected to the stamping ground. You can dream and dance to it. It zooms in and out, flies high and dives deep in its perpetuum mobile quality. It’s a port and moving passage. It houses African as well as Lusitanian traces.It is a song of songs spreading joy and confidence. It murmurs and celebrates. It invites and is a companion.

There are a couple of versions in different line-ups to sound out its manifold possibilities


LIVE AT SINES w/ Jim Black, Frank Möbus and DJ Illvibe



In duo w/ pianist Joåo Paulo Esteves da Silva



LIVE AT Teatro São Luiz in Lisbon w/ Joåo Paulo Esteves da Silva, Mario Delgado (g) and João Lobo (dr)


Solo w/ pianist Joåo Paulo Esteves da Silva

Apropos Carlos Bica : his newest album „11:11“ is an all-Lusitanian affair, released on CLEAN FEED with a convincing and highly captivating Portuguese line-up: Eduardo Cardino on vibraphone, José Soares on alto sax and Gonçalo Neto on guitar and banjo. The album is on the newest longlist of Preis der deutschen Schallplattenkritik.

Bica 11:11

She lit a fire in my childhood. I will never forget „Lichter von Kopenhagen“. And other songs from early radio days. She was able to elicit the universal from the trivial and take the uncanny out of „exotic otherness“ without exposing it to laughter. (m.e.)

After Caterina Valente passed away on September 9th, my phone spied me posting that clip of Valente and Dean Martin performing “One Note Samba,” which is the most charming thing ever filmed. So I got served this free? bootleg? puzzling assemblage of Caterina Valente and Maria Dolores Pradera songs on SoundCloud, which might be a real album? I cannot tell. The third song, presented here as “Franqueza,” is actually Valente doing “Cucurrucucu Paloma,” and her version is as canonical as the later Caetano Veloso performance I hold so dear. Free, also. (Sasha Frère-Jones)

einmal eröffnete einer seiner songs eine nicht nur von mir geschätze tv-serie, und der ungemein eindringliche song führte uns aus faszinierende art in eine welt diverser abgründe. nun sitze ich hier im besten restaurant von matala, habe einen „seabrass“ verspeist, und um den fisch herum das erste risotto ever erlebt, das mich umgehauen hat. zeit für ein cappuccino, und ein neues rätsel, und der erste, der mir den namen des künstlers / acts schreibt, in den comments hier, nicht als private mail, bekommt um nikolaus die cd nach hause gesendet. sie erscheint (oder ist erschienen) zwischen september und november 24. auf einflüsse angesprochen, die sich auf dieses album ausgewirkt hätten, ohne unmittelbar hörbar zu sein, in der einen oder anderen weise, nannte er / sie / die band (ich will es ja nicht zu einfach machen) Mazzy Star, Beth Gibbons, Gene Clark – und Sade . good day and good luck! (m.e.)

Rätsel gelöst: HIER ein Song aus „Small Changes“. Tom Doyle fühlt sich in seiner Besprechung in der Dezemberausgabe von Mojo von ferne an „Dry The Rain“ von The Beta Band erinnert – LISTEN!

“(…) The album is playful, too. Audience applause and babble opens Lowdown Part 1, in which a rolling Pino Palladino bass part and Al Kooper-styled Hammon interjectiojs conapire to evoke a kind of downtrodden take on The Beta Band‘s Dry The Rain, replete with a naggingly beautiful melody. (…)“

I am stepping in the toes of Joni Mitchell‘s Matala experience in 1969 or 70, with a little problem. She wrote here first famous „Carey“ lines: „The wind is in from Africa. Last night i couldn‘t sleep“ . My „little insomnia“ is possibly not related to winds crossing the Lybian Sea, and not to any die hard problems. And it is very probably not coming from my melancholic episode last night when strolling the Matala Hippie Boulevard Of Dreams. One moment alone, staring at the black colour of the sea, sounds wrapped me up from behind, i turned around cause my ears were caught by a sweet magic melody from a totally empty Merino Bar. Only the girl who makes the drinks sent me a smile for being her guest, i kindly resisted, and for a moment the saxophone in that song i loved in the days that were the days, rang a bell: oh, these famous sax lines in „Baker Street“. Mellow me! How deep down it went, this song, anyway (if you read the lines of Mr. Rafferty‘s song). I was transported into a time where music was pure presence and dream and adventure and a look for elevations to come. Even reflecting losses, had a shining facade. This acoustic trigger of future feelings and dances is somehow diminished and lost by age where 69 is not your regular thrill, but a number of age, of days growing shorter. So that special song that wrapped me up, burned itself inside with tenderness, a time travel machine to Würzburg in those mid-seventies, was „Year Of The Cat“. „She doesn’t give you time for questions as she locks up your arm in hers. And you follow ‚till your sense of which direction completely disappears“. I think I will give this song another quiet shot tonite making it my dream path to sleep sleep sleep sheep sleep… I hope the scent of patchouli (in that song) doesn’t completely kill me.

Today Alabaster DePlume – saxophonist, songwriter, poet, orator, activist,  shares Prologue To A Blade, a series of creative statements setting the stage for a larger project arriving next year.

The Prologue includes a beautiful new digital EP – featuring two tracks recorded in Palestine with local musicians, pianist Sami El Enani and Qanoun player Laith Albandak, and a third track inspired by the experience of living in solidarity with the people of Palestine – which is out now on all digital music platforms.

This body of work lays the foundation for his evolving artistic journey, as he explores the role of dignity in healing and its impact on community, society, and humanity. 

was für ein Lied, so traurig, so herzzerreissend. Robert Wyatt liebt es, das weiss ich.

Im Hotel.

• Du, ich muss dich was fragen. Ich bin Didier aus Graz.
• Michael.
• Ich habe der Nicole das schon gesagt. Nun frag ich mal.
• Nur zu.
• Bist du in der Musikbranche?
• Ja. Also, auf der anderen Seite. Im Radio
• Ich wusste es! Ich mach seit Jahrzehnten Musik.
• Was?
• Hardrock und Stoner. Circle Creek.
• Wir haben uns was zu erzählen.

In einem ausführlichen Interview etwas älteren Datums (2008) – HIER in TheQuietus – spricht Robert Wyatt mit Jonny Mugwump über sein Leben und seine politischen Überzeugungen, seine Nervosität bei Aufnahmen mit Bjork und die Bedeutung von Unvollkommenheit in der Musik. By the way, he‘s still alive and kicking. Read about Richard Williams‘ visit at Robert‘s home recently in „The Blue Moment“!

I travelled three times to London to interview Robert and Alfe on „Dondestan“, „Shleep“ and „Cuckooland“ in the times of their release. Unforgettable, when, on the hottest day of that summer of 2003 , we were lead to the empty Purcell Room, that excellent concert hall, and then moved though every track of „Cuckooland“.  At one pont Robert told me how Brian Eno sang his part of the uncanny „Forest“ with opulent arm gestures of an opera singer. (And what a deeply moving song that is, from two of my favourite singers ever!) Many of his stories blurring the lines between the private and the political. And such a great humour, too. He‘s life‘s company, always has been! (m.e.)