Who said that?

29th March 2010
‘I’m Nobody! Who are you? Are you – Nobody – Too? Then there’s a pair of us? Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody! How public – like a Frog – To tell one’s name – the livelong June – To an admiring Bog!’

Emily Dickinson

So we have poetry in our hearts and music on the hard drive. We have fed the dogs, stared out of the window, scared away the crows, now it is time to take stock. There are new tunes. For the record they currently have these names: Promenade Des Anglais, Coeur De Lyon, Macaroon, Afrobeat and Cape Clear.

Maybe it’s an aviary

28th March 2010
‘To see the world in a grain of sand, And heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour.’

William Blake, Auguries of Innocence

William could have been writing about today, this place. It’s 5/4 time, techno and castanuelas, on a new tune called, for reference, Macaroon, after the French capital’s favourite sweet delicacies. Soon enough macaroons in Macroom become kalimbas in Cameroon as we become the Macroom City Orchestra, the Cork and Cameroon district big band.

In the heart of the country

27th March 2010
Back in the County, at the heart of it, on the river bend, we walk down to the boat house, watch the rowers power up to the jetty and back, up to the jetty and back, like the birds in some long lost song from a distant memory of another life when she had red soft lipstick lips and everything was fine. I study a book of black and whites as maestro reclines on the day bed and the dogs pad about outside, sniffing the air, being dogs, and the reeds whisper sweet nothings to each other through the too clean glass. The work is by Jean Loup Sieff. In the 60s, when everything was monochrome and oh so simple, he made a photo essay on French new wave cinema, including Jean-Luc Goddard’s classic A Bout De Souffle.

Up the incline, dogs in tow, sun still beating, and back to base, where we find the trailer on Youtube and start playing with the words. La tendresse, la peur, la petit Americaine, et Dieu crea la femme, le Diable dans la peau.

Will there be trouble? It’s all so evocative, nostalgic, warm, fuzzy and beautiful, like the day, like the light splashing on the divan, like the girl on the river with a pony tail and no name. It’s all so perfect, how can there be trouble?

Cork City Bus Station

26th March 2010
He was an oblivion seeker, a lotus eater. Courtney’s description of Kurt in today’s paper. Kurt could never survive because, as De Botton so beautifully put it, we know life to be a hurricane.

You can’t hide or sit still, there is no peaceful eye to this particular storm. All you can do is go with the wind, whatever it brings it brings, until the end. No, not the end, your end, your own personal tailored finality.

Maybe it will be like this, eternity, waiting for the bus to afterlife or oblivion, depending on your belief, still not sure, but almost certain, that no matter which destination you buy a ticket for you will end up in the same place.

Today I am heading fo Skibereen, for more music making with the maestro. Because, since the club burned down, it feels like a long way but the best way to go.

City Reverb at Favela Chic

25th March 2010
We (The City Reverb) played at Favela Chic with The Wellingtons, who are about to change their name but hopefully not their style; who are a really cool, two girl, vocal, cello, percussion, megaphone and brightly lit umbrella band. Surely this is a winning combination?

For the record we (The City Reverb) played these songs in this order: 1 Swimming 2 Roll On 3 All You Need 4 Wings 5 Morning 6 Corner

Wings worked the best. I played A instead of G for half the first verse of Morning. Oops, must try harder.