Archive for March, 2005

TAKE MY SONGS BY THEIR HANDS

Thursday, March 3rd, 2005

Sayed Kashua, take my songs by their hands
and lead them though the streets of your drunken pen.

Well, strange days. Nothing feels easy, but everything seems to fall right into place. I’m more silent than ever, these days (I know some of you wouldn’t believe it), kind of intro-pensive. I’ve absorbed the various reviews of The Move, the written, the verbal, and even the unspoken ones. I try to listen to them all. Mostly it’s very interesting to see how your music reaches the other. One of the best reviews I’ve had described my music as the best sound track for sex. Better still was the launching concert, where, I was told, a few couples (of various sexual preferences), so wholesomely swept by the music and vibe, were aroused into making it right there, by the club’s toilettes. Music gets you to high places, that’s for sure.

Anyway, this is one of these slow mornings, where I got zillions of things to do, but my soul screams for food, some inspiration and vitamins. And I got them right here;  Avigail Sperber ( a filmmaker) who has just reTurned from the Berlin Film Festival, and SAGOL 59 ( a rapper). They have both linked me up back to my soul, through two great links:

One is an amazing review of one of Ryan Adams’ songs from HEARTBREAKERS, by the fabulous writer Nick Hornby. Sayed Kashua, here’s my call for you, take my songs by their hands and lead them through the streets of your drunk pen.
http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/song/hornby.html

The other link is a site of the award winning film about
http://www.thedevilanddanieljohnston.com

Here’s a quote from Hornby’s review:

“Some people are at their best when they’re miserable. Ryan Adams’s beautiful Heartbreaker album is, I suspect, the product of a great deal of pain…On Adams’s next album, Gold, he seems to have cheered up, and though that’s good news for him, it’s bad news for me… His upbeat songs are fine, but they sound a lot like other people’s upbeat songs (you can hear the cheeriest incarnations of the Stones, Dylan and Van Morrison all over Gold); his blues gave him distinction.
“What rights do we have here? Are we entitled to ask other people to be unhappy for our benefit? After all, there are loads of us, and only one of them. And how can you be happy, really, if you are only ordinary in your happiness, but extraordinary in your grief? Is it really worth it? It sounds harsh, I know, but if you are currently romantically involved with someone with a real talent — especially a talent for songwriting — then do us all a favour and dump them. There might be a Heartbreaker — or a Blood On The Tracks or a Layla — in it for all of us. Thanks.”

Cheers!