La belleza es tu cabeza

Dear blog, dear friends, it's been a long time coming. Long long long. I've been gone too long! I had the itch to write today, I even had a few songs I wanted to share, but providence led me elsewhere. I came across a few subtle gems, and while these fantastic finds threw my plan off, they also brought me a great sense of comfort. The kind you need on sundays, especially when it looks like you haven't had a hug in a while (I had the flu these past two weeks, so it has been a hug-less 14 days and counting!).

I've never been a fan of sundays for some reason, perhaps because it marked the gloomy end of the weekend, hence the ominous start of classes the following day, hovering like an impending near-death... after all, I did go to nuns' school... ta-da!



But even if my teen-angst ruined Sunday afternoons were marked by hours spent trying to study, cleaning, doing the laundry, melancholically writing half assed demo songs (for better TCMA songs, go here), and watching my father cook meticulously for hours, there would still be the precious yet fleeting Sunday morning-ish "morning".



Sunday morning once meant waking up late with an apex sunray rested on my smiling face, lazily sitting up in my bed as I'd grab my headphones to appreciate every single second of the fuzzy Velvet Underground's "Sunday Morning", while I would reread some of my favorite childhood books. Then I'd prepare my famous brunch for the 'rents, and we'd savour it as we listened to some of my mom's favorites, Jacques Brel (whom she'd call Jacquot), Leo Ferre, or mine and my dad's favorite: Ella Fitzgerald and her golden, soothing, chill-inducing voice.



Then it would all end too fast, and the mid afternoon would morph into late afternoon, which led us to a generically bland Sunday evening (gotta save that energy for the long arduous week!), then bedtime, spent tossing and turning, and soon enough, being awoken by the gloomy cawing of that same damn humongous crow, followed by being reluctantly rushed through an inevitable slow paced, almost robotic, dazed and confused, almond-eyed, zombie-gulping-down-breakfast-driving-Nana-and-her-cousin-to-school-then-heading-to-work Monday morning.

Life has changed since then. But this morning, unlike other Sunday mornings, I woke up and had little to no must-do's on my agenda. Then I started feeling a little lost, sensing those anxious feelings of old creeping in. So I did something I haven't done in a while: I went looking for new music! I went over to one of my favorite blogs to once again enjoy the writing, photos and songs tastefully written, arranged and chosen by Dan, Jordan and Sean (and sometimes by their guests) over at saidthegramophone. [while you're there check out the umbrella tree picture and the awesome overlapping women with burnt eyes!]

I then stumbled upon a pretty sweet song. The kind that you've already heard quite a few times, but haven't outgrown or won't get rid of just yet, like your favorite holey shirt, or this Cranberries song. However this time, the trumpets are playing even more out of tune, the sky is grey, getting menacingly greyer and you know it's going to rain yet again, like it has all week, tutu-tutu-tutut, you know there will be thunder and lightning again tonight, because after all, this is South Florida and it's hurricane season! ok I got a bit carried away there, but I speak from the heart.

So after listening to that nonchalantly, slightly depressing yet appropriate song, I went over to another favorite blog of mine written in part, or should I say mainly, by an ex Montreal dweller and fellow lo-fi musician, vinyl collector and physicist (the last two of which I'm unfortunately not) extraordinaire: David Barclay (the one playing guitar in the picture below). Yeah, so David rocks my socks! he's pretty awesome, hell, Austin even had a little man crush on him! Yup, he's cute like that! [And I guess the folks at Channel 4 in the UK also fell for his rosy cheeks and cutesy twee songs, as I'm pretty sure the first thing I'm hearing in this Skins episode, or at least in this exerpt,is The Diskettes' "Art"!]



[Do I really find a way to talk about Donkey Heart in every post?!!! all THREE of them?!!]

So as per usual, Mr. Barclay had uploaded some pretty obscure and great stuff (or at least unknown to me, maybe aside from Nagisa Ni Te). And in one of the posts, he linked to this one blog, which linked me to yet another blog - ah the joys of the internet! To make a story short, I fell upon a goldmine (no worries, I'll share some of it one day... someday...), which in turn led me to finally listen to this:



here is the mp3 format:

Toumani Diabate - Ne Ne Koitaa

After hearing these magical golden drops, I believe talking and writing is void of meaning. Thus I will only add these words: this kind of beauty is yours to explore.

In the words of Mr. Murrow, good night and good luck!



P.S.: thanks for bringing it to my attention Mikey, "Shalom" is reuploaded.

It turns out Mordecai isn’t only a falcon…

I’d love to start off with a few swear-words, you know, "histoire de" (a soit disant fancier way of saying "in order to") get it out of my system. But I’ll just do it silently (everyone is asleep), from where I’m sitting, faraway from your ears and eyes… Done!

However, my potty mouth (or is it fingers? although in the latter case, the imagery is a tad repulsive...) is bound to crack, and I'm sure you'll pardon my French. Besides, I can't quite believe it's almost been a month since my first post!

Perhaps it would be best to begin with an apology for not writing a new entry earlier… I’ve sincerely been meaning to, however, the past few weeks have been exhaustingly busy. They essentially were what I’d like to call “fourre-tout” weeks, which means that everything and anything would happen, mostly all at once. So here’s what happened in a nutshell: A LOT OF SHIT!

And then, when you top it with today… Oh today, today… yeah, well, you know: learning that yet another family member has passed and that I consequently have to decide whether to travel to NYC or not for the funeral, but then realized that I can’t quite afford it because I’m oh shit yeah: BROKE! Then you add to the mix a full moon (which is nevertheless gorgeous!), PMSing, a crazy schedule, a lack of sleep, a stubborn blister that just won’t go away (it's been a month, any suggestions?! because so far patience and rest haven't payed off!), not to forget the fact that the clerk gave me the wrong receipt and I only realized it two days later (now that I want to bring the item back, what do I do smartypants, huh?!). If all this isn’t quite a cocktail Molotov, then I don’t know what it is!

*breathe in * * breathe out*, remember the breathtaking moon and all the good times you've had with your family...

Needless to say, I haven’t had the time (perhaps except for Monk Time) to post a new entry. No, no, no… let me put it this way: right now I’m taking the time to write this, which virtually didn’t exist in my schedule! It’s alright, because I enjoy doing it! This being said, I feel like kicking myself for not being able to avoid my second post to be, albeit briefly, about family once again, or that it might carry a tinge of bitterness. But since I don’t dictate the course of life, I’ll just go with it instead. Hi, my name is Neyza, this is my reality, and I’m sharing it with you.

So my dad’s great aunt has passed… which made me think of what my aunt said the other night:

“there’s only been four deaths in this family in the past 40 years. But now that those of the last generation are all aging at once, we have to be ready, that is not if, but rather when they start dropping like flies!”

Kapow!!! Reality check, right in the kisser! Just because they're family, doesn't mean they are eternal...

On a lighter note, and all logic aside, do you know which song I woke up with, in my head, this morning? “Jewish Girl”! Talk about reminiscing! For those who have no idea what I’m talking about, it’s one of my old band’s songs, which we unfortunately never recorded. The funny thing is, little did I know (trailer) it was actually Purim (wiki) today. So, if your name is Esther, more power to you and merry Purim, if that’s the saying!

Oy vey! this was perhaps a shorter entry and a bit of a rant, but still filled with goodies! Let's be honest, this was goodies galore!! Well, till the next one, my little Johnnys, be good and don’t let winter bring you down, because spring is right around the corner!

P.S.: this time, all links = mp3s. If ever a link is broken or doesn't work, notify me.

So long... I guess we'll just have to adjust...

My great-grandma passed away this morning, while doing what she liked best: eating. Right after enjoying a good breakfast, she peacefully closed her eyes on 104 years of existence. I remember her once saying that the day she'd stop eating, it would be a sign of her imminent death. I'm glad she never got to that point!

Her death took us all by surprise. I know what you're thinking, she was a 104! But it genuinely surprised us, because she took us all on the ride for all these years and it just became expected for her to live forever. Besides, everyone enjoyed the yearly summer family gatherings on her birthday. And upon leaving her this past sunday, after having spent a pleasant weekend by her side, she half jokingly, half seriously told us (my aunt and I) she expected us to be back on monday to take care of her, as my grandma would be working on President's day.

This is a woman who aged well; she had all her teeth, wore reading glasses, kept her sanity and lucidity, had a great sense of humour, a voracious appetite (which turns out is hereditary, especially when it comes to sweets!), never got sick as in never had diabetes, arthritis etc (until this past month when her body started retaining fluids, mainly in her lungs, which got her out of breath and eventually caused her death), went to school at the age of 90 (it's never too late to learn!!!), knew and loved all her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren (adopted and blood-relatives) dearly. Until recently, she was cooking and cleaning. But mobility became an issue in the past year or so and began to limit her independence.

However, all along the way, she remained greatful, humorous and loving, guided by her life mantra: "give me strength, courage and patience dear Lord", without knowing this simple prayer would keep her alive and well for more than a century. If there is someone who has lived a beautiful, humble life and died of an equally honorable death, it is her...

While I did my share of crying, and realized that her departure has left forever a void in our lives, I can only be happy for her; happy that she died in a warm sunny country, happy that there was no suffering and only enjoyment as she took her last breath. Besides, she herself said (in creole of course) that when she lays in the coffin and we'll be saying farewell, bawling our eyes out, she'll be looking at us out of the corner of her eye, laughing...

Perhaps my only regrets for her would be that she won't get to be buried next to her husband, who lies waters away, and that, as the eldest citizen (of Florida is it? or the US?) she'd receive a birthday letter signed by now ex President Bush, upon her anniversary, ever since she turned a 100, and that she will unfortunately not live to have the privilege to receive it from President Obama on her 105th... oh well!

All I can wish for you lots, is that you age just as well, and that you may be fortunate to die peacefully, of old age, in your home, surrounded by loved ones.

This being said, I'd like to share with you the best elegy I've heard, which is incidentally one of my favorite songs. I'm talking about Simon & Garfunkel's "Frank Lloyd Wright". I did a bit of research and it turned out this song was actually written as a farewell to Art Garfunkel, on Paul Simon's part, upon the death of their collaboration.

A song, that for some reason popped in my head as I was writing this entry, is The Arcade Fire's "Wake Up". And I couldn't help but notice that the beautiful melody sung by Win at 4:42 "With my lightning bolts a-glowin' I can't see where I am going" shares an uncanny resemblance to the gorgeous, plaintive theme of Fauré's Élégie Op. 24 for cello and piano, which is introduced in the first bars and comes back once more at 2:15 min and even more passionately at 4:55 min. But that's what great bands/musicians do, they're able to inspire themselves and/or emulate great compositions, both consciously and unconsciously.

Petite parenthèse on "Wake Up": I was a little disappointed when I looked up the lyrics and found out the very last line is actually " You better look out below!" and not " You better look out for love!", since the latter would have brought a more hopeful ending to the song.

It's funny that once "Funeral" became widely hyped up, I stopped cold listening to it for years (that's just my nature), only to go back to it today (I'm dead serious! no pun intended), and now a wave of nostalgia washes up over me: "rebellious" CEGEP years, joining my first band, meeting and hanging out with Richie, Régine and Win.

While The Arcade Fire might be overrated and a tad apocalyptic to some, when it comes down to it, they sound a lot better than what most "indie" bands are releasing these days... To me, 2008 was, pardon my french, a shit year, save perhaps Beach House's magical "Devotion", Land of Talk's solid "Some Are Lakes", those Nigerian and Golden Afrique comps, No Kids' geeky soulful "Come into my house" (which totally trumps Hot Chip's what was it called again?!!) and Half-Handed Cloud's... well everything he released! I might be forgetting other albums but that's beside the point!

Much like Régine, as far as I know, most of my family (to the exeption of the Frenchies on my mother's side), including my now deceased great-nan (from my father's side) are from the ex "Perle des Antilles", Haiti. They eventually emigrated to Montreal during the Duvalier years (only to relocate to the Sunshine State 25 years later).

Speaking of Montreal, if you're around Concordia's campus tomorrow, the 18th, do the right thing (oh how clever!), and make sure to catch Spike Lee's lecture!!!! I know I would if I could!!!

And lastly, speaking of great black people (what?! I never said I was good with paragraph transitions!), I'll just leave you with Jazz's smokiest elegy: Goodbye porkpie hat, Mingus's reference to Lester Young's (below) trademark coiffe. And till next time (which should be my next entry, really), take good care of yourself, I mean it!

P.S.: to download mp3, just click on links. I think you'll be able to figure out which ones are mp3s.