Concert – Luzmila Carpio

Songs in Quechua.

Mi madre hablaba las dos lenguas…” “My mother spoke both tongues” she says of her ancestral Aymara and the Quechua on which she was brought up.

The language is very important to us because in it is thinking, in it is that profound love for nature. I wouldn’t wish that any more languages ever disappear from the whole world, because if they do, the wisdom goes too. Continue reading


‘Qadduka-L-Mayyas’ – again. No apologies for the repetition.

A little over two years ago I posted several recordings of this song on a Sunday.

Today I have a few minutes to relax before my impending readaptation to what is known as a ‘commute’. I plucked some moringa leaves from a nearby tree to add to my pot of tea leftover from last night. The lavender, stevia, and holy herb leaves remain intensely flavorful, and I wanted to freshen it up with something earthy and nutritious.

With the aroma of herbs filling the air, I sat in the doorway and met the eyes of a neighborhood beauty far too young for me to be allowed to say ‘yes’ to. I thought of this song, and looked it up again.
In this translation the tree is given as … Continue reading

‘Twoubadou Rasin’ – Boukman Eksperyans

In the on-screen text it’s spelled ‘Troubadou’ not ‘Twoubadou’ but everywhere else I’ve seen it with the ‘w’ which better reflects the pronunciation as far as I can tell, and though there’s some debate over which orthographic convention Haitians ‘should’ use, I’m sticking with ‘W’. See a future post for more on this letter.

Enough intellectual masturbation! Ready for more forbidden desire? In cases like the one here, there is something to be said for the voice of experience cautioning youth. The song begins with the lyrics, “Angelina pa koute manman, Angelina pa koute papa. Pase pa la fennèt…” or in English, “Angelina doesn’t listen to mom, Angelina doesn’t listen to dad. She passes through the window…”

So while there is or can be much value in the elders’ voice of caution, what we have in most of the world today is more than caution, it is authoritarian (and often hypocritical) prohibition against under-aged erotic exploration. It is punishment/shame obsessed, not focused on welfare of the young.

What meaning does a child’s ‘no’ carry if they’re categorically denied their very own ‘yes’?

The real tragedy is not that youth ignore the advice of the old, but that the old oppress the young. The ignoring is most likely a reaction to the oppression; people are prevented from experimenting when young, when the costs of doing so are more transient, and when neoteny and neuroplasticity allow for learning and development.
Instead what we get is a cyclic addiction pattern set in place by an entire childhood of deprivation. Relationships are one area where adults are almost universally utter failures. Catastrophe is the norm, long-term success a freakish and revered anomaly.

Naturally the young in such a milieu may develop an identity of rebelliousness and disrespect, since their elders are eminently unworthy of respect, having routinely misused authority and failed to take responsibility for the bad design of culture handed to them. Generation after generation has done this for God-only-knows how long in my cultural lineage. …In some areas of life–true–the pattern is a recent one, dating back some hundred years or so, give or take fifty. I’m talking here about things like rope-making, fishing, hunting, basket-weaving, and timber-frame building. But in the area of sexual exploration, it is a story as old as our poorly named ‘civilizations’.

‘Greetings’ – Hamza el Din

While I miss the depth of pain evident in the harmonies of Hamza el Din and Shizuru Ohtaka on the former’s album version of this song of anguished lovers (poetry by Ismail Hasan), the following is a masterpiece of instrumental arrangement which in no way suffers from overproduction. Here is Ali Omar El-Farouk’s take on el Din’s melody:

Perhaps someone with better Arabic knowledge can provide lyrics and a translation, and someone familiar with the Nubian culture of Hamza el Din could provide commentary on the liner notes from his album ‘A Wish’, in which it refers to lovers denied each other, if my memory from reading them almost 20 years ago serves me well.

By the way, while I may get around to posting two more songs from that album, every song on it is a gem so if you’re thinking about purchasing it, I’d recommend jumping for the hard copy. You can expect links to the tracks ‘Nagrishad’ for its mesmerizing rhythm sequence and ‘A Wish’ for its gentle kindness later on my blogroll, no doubt, as well as possibly others from the Nubian master of the oud. I’ve linked here just to El-Farouk since his is an official Youtube account, while the uploads of el Din’s music are all from fans.

‘Diese kalte Nacht’ – Faun

So we’ve abandoned for now the Sunday/Wednesday themes, and it’s become a free-for-all, with random posts at any time of the week including those days which had been slated for the sharing of multiple versions of a song, in the one case, and long chunks of instrumental music, in the other.

Here’s another gutsy desire song, to amp-up from where we were last week with the energetic contentment of ‘Seo moLeaba’. It wasn’t hard for me, not knowing German, to guess at the subject matter of ‘Diese kalte Nacht’ without seeing the video or popping the lyrics in an online translator. Forbidden–yet mutual–desire has a certain ring to it. Tomorrow we’ll hear some more of the same, if I mistake not.

A fire inside meets a cold reception out in the world:

German lyrics taken from a Youtube user account comment under the official video:

Diese Nacht ist kalt Und der Wind der bläst Durch unser Land Und wer jetzt noch geht Ist ein Armer tor Oder auf dem Weg, zu der Liebsten Die jede reise lohnt

Ohhh [chorus:]

Öffne mir, lass mich hinein Dein Liebster steht im Mondenschein Diese Nacht ist so kalt So öffne mir Denn Morgen wird’s zu spät sein

Mein Vater wacht über haus und hof Meine Tür versperrt ein Eisenschloss Und ich habe keinen Schlüssel dafür Es führt heute Nacht kein Weg zu mir


Doch die Nacht ist so kalt Endlich öffnet sie ihm Und sie küsst ihres Liebsten kalte stirn Diese Nacht ist so kalt Doch sie öffnet die Tür und er küsst sie Sieben mal dafür


Der Morgen graut Und der Wind der geht durch unser Land Doch das Mädchen liegt in ihres Liebsten arm Und danket sehr der kalten Nacht und dem Wind dafür

‘Pua Hone’ – Brothers Cazimero

I didn’t see an upload of this song from the record label’s site, and since it’s one of the Cazimero brothers’ most sweepingly lovely songs, I’m bringing it to y’all today thanks to another fan uploading it.


I’m living proof that depression and sadness aren’t linked. I’ve awoken depressed–and happy–each of the past few days.

I’m accustomed to waking up depressed and full of grief. This song is so smooth that it makes a delicious accompaniment for all the flavors of depression I’ve tasted.

Try it and I’m confident you’ll agree.

‘Seo mo Leaba’ – Kíla

I mark yesterday with a white stone.

Though not the bed part, the kiss part is resonating right now. Being in love can imbue the most seemingly-trivial phenomena with a celestial glow:

Oh little gear icon on Youtube how I do love thee! Thy 0.75 settings are as the response of a child when something said in earnest–something really rather simple–went by too quickly to do more than leave an impression in the feelings parts of my sluggish brain, mis-tuned as it is for labor rather than its natural state of play. You give me the gift of measured repetition, eschewing the overcooked adultine habit of explanation.

“Bite me here.”

What was that, please?