Good morning with Preaching To The Choir (Live At The Green Note) by Bernard Butler. Have a nice weekend.
An essay, in the form of a tragicomedy letter is accompanying today’s song choice. It’s in the vein of what I, in my Picky INTJ Fairy incantation have been posting to Bernard on his Instagram.. It’s also a shout-out to my essay on Deep Emotions and to my note on Camber Sands.
Oh mine! Where did that super deep, manly, hoarse voice came from? Me thinking live at The Green Note was safe. You live on youtube or social media tend to be . It’s live, no risk. Turns out, it’s a minefield. Urg! Urg! Urg! Picky INTJ fairies don’t know what to do when we’re nearly in tears with emotion. There’s a glance at the guitar, a “maybe the bass?”, a “poem, write a poem, pour it on the page” I’m always doing it, like right now, writing this). But it’s too much, and too many hours of non-creative discomfort, and of being silent and still.
Preaching To The Choir gives me the chills, it’s too close to home. It’s home, times ago. Preaching To The Choir is, or is supposed, to be about politicians, rulers, their deceit and lies and hypocrisy. That’t not my meaning of the lyrics. Songs are this, they mean a different thing to each of us.
“… Oh I’ll reach across the covers to caress your skin / The memories we overcome could mean anything / The words I use to hurt you disappear / Their presence only lingers in your tears…”
Those words always, always, get to me. They cut deep, they have a multilayered, multi side meaning to me, and there are almost, if not really, tears. I don’t know the exact meaning Bernard had in mind when he wrote them. For personal purposes, it doesn’t matter. They bring me memories, they bring out a “good grief”, they’re touching.
“Isn’t it a good thing that you have emotions.” asks Bernard on the Super Deluxe Edition interview. It is. But… but I keep being amazed at how, why, Good Grief, the album, and now it’s companion Live At The Green Note bring out such emotions in me. It’s unusual.
Therefore, congratulations, Mr. Butler. You did it again! Fortunately I have forever cancelled you a few months ago because you don’t like to play bass! You may recall that from Instagram. It has now become hazardous to attend your concerts. However, you will not get away that easily. For purposes of practice and reharsals duty, coupled with protection I’ll most likely turn up with my guitar. It’s becoming something of a trademarks to show up at concerts with my guitar on my back. Don’t worry, I will not take to the stage. It’s all yours. But I will have my safety blanket. Dark glasses are also useful and a side blessing in disguise of photosensitive. Any possible tears Will be hidden.
The hallmark of a great artist is not measured in record sales, size of venues played or any other similar thing. It’s in how deep and truthfully how many hearts and souls are touched by the artist’s work. You’ve deeply touched and moved a few, if not a lot, of us, Mr. Butler.
Signed Picky INTJ fairy.
Bernard Butler is currently touring the UK. Bernard Butler plays in Portugal for the first time in November. 14 (Thursday), Casa da Cultura de Setúbal, Setúbal, 9:30pm 17 (Sunday) 1, Sala 2 Casa da Música, Porto, 9pm
Amazing Songs & Other Delights #71 is the The Desert Blues and Not Just edition airs Monday 7th, 3-4:30pm (gmt+1) on Yé Yé Radio: yeyeradio.com (or on the app). This a longer, special edition.
This programme opens with Imajighen by Mdou Moctar and closes with Tom Huddleston singing a live version on Hank Williams’ I Saw The Light. Once more, I’m travelling through connections, details, inspiration. And writing an essay.
Imajighen means free men in Berber. Although the lyrics specifically, or more specifically, address the free men of the Desert, the song’s words can be transposed to encompass us all. The chorus goes: “Imajighen, we can’t afford to be divided Imajighen, We can’t afford to be divided Imajighen We have no time for hate Imajighen Calling on you all wherever you are! We are all Imajighen” Full lyrics in English, Tamasheq and Tifinagh can be read here. Tom Hiddleston plays Hank Williams in the film I Saw The Light.
What do Mdou Moctar and Hank Williams have in common? Everything, I venture. Amazing Songs & Other Delights #71 the The Desert Blues and Not Just edition could be said to be part of my “self taught” guitar schooling, mostly related to what Grupo Operário do Ruído, of which I’m part of, have been working on music wise.
Desert and African blues often have clapping. Clapping, including Arab clapping, a dry, hand palm against hand palm, clap, along with the fat clapping, is also something we have been exploring on Grupo Operário do Ruído. The same goes for rhythm, space, speed, rests, tone, intensity, ambient, emotions, silence, continuous, abrupt or smooth changes.
Since I elected the electric guitar as my main instrument in Grupo do Ruído, I have been paying a different kind of attention to the many faces, possibilities, approaches of the instrument.
This year, on Grupo Operário do Ruído we even created our own blues. A not so standard one, nonetheless, a blues.
Which take us to, what is the blues, what is a standard blues? The answers may require a many volumes encyclopedia. Or music theory explanations. I’ll leave both aside. As my choices for this Amazing Songs & Other Delights show, the blues is many things, everything, often not what a rigid blues school would call blues. Yet, it’s precisely the richness, the uniqueness, the emotions, feeling, sentiment that make the blues. Not being a never-miss-a-note-i-can-play-it-at-1000-miles-per-second master of the mimor blues pentatonic scale, proper chords progression, and on. If that’s all you got, you don’t have the blues, you have technique.
On these blues choices of mine we go on a journey with stops on Niger to Portugal, through the United States, Argelia-France, Marocco, United Kingdom, France-Spain, Mali, Cyprus, Algeria. Or, as sang Mdou Moctar’s Imajighen “We can’t afford to be divided”. Therefore, let’s have, sing and play the blues!
Tracklist: 01 – Mdou Moctar – Imajighen 02 – ANOHNI & The Johnsons – Breaking 03 – Tiwiza – At u Azeka 04 – Bombino – Mahegagh (What Shall I Do) 05 – Rui Veloso – Sayago Blues 06 – R.L. Burnside – See My Jumper Hanging On the Line (live at home, 1978) 07 – Tarwa N-Tiniri – Taryet 08 – Tom Verlaine – 5 Hours From Calais 09 – Dead Combo – Lisboa Mulata 10 – Fatou Seidi Ghali (Les Filles de Illighadad) – Telilit (live from Story of Sahel Sounds) 11 – Manu Chao – Tu Te Vas Feat. Laeti 12 – Felt – The Stagnant Pool 13 – Boubacar Traoré & Ali Farka Touré – Duna Ma Yelema 14 – Buzz Ayaz – Buzzi Ayazi 15 – Soledad Brothers – This Guitar Says I’m Sorry 16 – The White Stripes – Suzy Lee 17 – Etran de L’Aïr – Imouha 18 – Ben Watt with Bernard Butler – New Year of Grace (Upstairs at the De La Warr Pavilion Bexhill 5th April 2016) 19 – The Legendary Tiger Man – Keep it Burning 20 – Majid Bekkas – Daymallah (feat. Rachid Zeroual, Khalid Kouhen, Paolo Radoni, Marc Lelangue) 21 – Tinariwen – Sastanàqqàm 22 – Tom Hiddleston – I Saw The Light (with Mark Kermode on double-bass, live in the Wittertainment studio)
words: Raquel Pinheiro; photos: Renato Cruz Santos/Cultura em Expansão
A week ago me and my colleagues from Grupo Operário do Ruído, a parte experimental-exploratory-avant ensemble connect to Sonoscopia were in the depths of our Open Rehearsal, after months of hours long reharsals.
Being part of the group has been a very interesting experience. I elected the electric guitar as my main instrument, in itself a challenge. I’m far more familiar with an electric bass than with an electric guitar. Most of my other instruments are as peculiar and unique as Grupo Operário do Ruído: a couple of plastic beads necklaces, a children’s melodica, mismatched drum sticks, empty spices bottles, and more, and our claribones, what I call our odd purpose build mix of trombone and clarinet.
Many instruments we use were build on previous years of the existence of Grupo Operário do Ruído, some like my guitar, the traditional drums, the tambourine are convencional. My use of the electric guitar is anything but convencional. We’re often asked what we do, what we play. We’re still working on the musical piece directed by António Serginho and Carlos Guerreiro, to which we all contribute.
I would say we’re much close to an orchestra than a rock band. The musical, sound, and other approaches are wide. As you can see on the photos we do not use staves. There are structured rhythm parts, solo and free style parts, corporal movement, a bit of singing. Each of us, one more than others depending of what we play, swap our instruments, according to the section we’re playing.
None of the above explains much other than a little of the mechanics of this year in Grupo Operário do Ruído. It’s not easy to explain as it is a sound experience composed of a million details.
I’ve been asked if I felt nervous playing in front of an audience. I didn’t. I didn’t even notice the audience that surrounded us. We’re concentrated on what we’re playing as well as in the hand instructions of António Serginho tailor made for us, and therefore different than standard conductor instructions.
An old friend has, for the last couple of years, been suggesting I should write essays. About whatever I feel like, since I write to him regarding everything under the sun. Although there is an inordinate amount concerning guitars and songs, and quite a bit on feelings and emotions. Therefore, let’s go for it. Like the shorter text on Camber Sands, this isn’t a standard song, or record, review. Do I even do anything standard? Answer, standard (guitar) tuning.
“Good Grief! I’m almost running out of tissues. That’s a compliment, by the way.” is what I wrote on Bernard’s instagram post of Deep Emotions visualizer. Running almost out of tissues was a small dramatic exaggeration to, there, easily convey the feelings and emotions brought by the song. Which are many, and multilayered.
Here, I have more room. All the room I want. The tissues didn’t almost run out – there was a nice stock, but the song release day and subsequent days were trying. What does a mostly logical, calm, joyful, steady person of profound, even feelings, do when confronted with a flood of emotions? She’s lost. And, or, shuts down. Or tries to figure out why tears keep want to burst out. Tears?… Again? What is going on?
Deep Emotions is an emotional mine field for me. The begging is easy “I saw the stars align over Primrose Hill”. Oh! a fellow star gazer! Nice. 🙂 A stubborn daughter and a stubborn dad? Rings several bells. From then onwards, making the song mine, quicksand is afoot. It makes me traverse at least, two separate levels of stored grief and trauma, that I thought solved, shelved, dusted and done. Unlike Sapphire Goss’ (who directed the short film that accompanies the song) words “… brief glimpses of half remembered things … ” there is nothing half remembered for me coming from Deep Emotions.
still from Deep Emotions film by Sapphire Goss
So far, Good Grief has proved a contender to thee record that has deeply touched me in such an unsettled manner in recent years – along with Mick Harvey’s Waves of Anzac/The Journey. Interestingly, Deep Emotions was released on April 24th, both the eve of Anzac Day – a solemn day in Australia and New Zealand – and 25 de Abril the day in 1974, 50 years ago, that ended a 48 years dictatorship in Portugal. The dictatorships had Colonial War (1961-1974) to which by dad and many young men were dispatched to. Dad left the war, went to exhile and was only allowed to return in 1977? … Talk about emotions. Deep, complex, ones. One
If with Waves of Anzac/The Journey I took my default route to process feelings and emotions: go for a very long walk on my own, and, more recently, also hit my electric guitar to pour it all out, when I start writing about Deep Emotions I was too tired for either manner of physical release.
still by Deep Emotions film by Sapphire Goss
What seriously intrigues me is why the album versions of the songs provoke such an emotional reaction in me. The live versions, that can be found on youtube, touch me, but with serenity intensity. There is no “what do I do with these shattering waves that are bringing it all to the surface again?” sensation.
Aside from the obvious – live versus recorded – what is the difference? The voice? The delivery? The existence of more instruments? The arrangments? The production? The (in)famous sensorial surround sound (I listened to the, theoretically, non surround sound)? All of the above? The guitar(s) on the album version has(have) a lot to answer for, but … Does is matter? Is it relevant to go find Wally and figure out exactly what is the cause? Probably not. Maybe better to leave aside dissecting that side of things and write from feeling. Or maybe those things are a deliberated way of translating emotions. Deliberated in the sense artists go for whatever allows us to better express what we want to tell, and, hopefully, reach cross to the listener, viewer, reader, audience.
Grief and trauma. I could sell it by the bucketload. We all probably can. The difference is not all of us are out there, opening up, being vulnerable, explaining, talking about our songs and life before an audience, being scrutinized.
Now and then I write songs, and most often I write poems, some of which were turned into songs, and instrumental music. A lot of me and my life is on those, but mostly in a cryptic way, providing me with shelter. You would also need to know my life to decode them. Deep Emotions is the opposite of cryptic, of providing shelter. It’s bare bones, ripped apart heart, dive right into the storm. And I don’t like it. Because, as said at the beginning, it brings back what had been properly wrapped on the bottom of the top shelve of the cupboard or thrown away since it was no longer of use. Yet, here I am, tissues within reach.
still by Deep Emotions film by Sapphire Goss
Why do I have issues, get frightened with, of, deep emotions? It is not with deep emotions per se. It is with deep emotions that blow up in your (in my) face. Especially when coming from the person who was meant to be there for me through thick and stone, till death did us apart, who, instead of the grim reaper did us apart. And there it was, grief and trauma cake layer number two. Not that, by then, or before, with grief and trauma cake layer number one, I had no words for the consequences.
It is also because when the me who is often told “you’ve always been the backbone” (I’m a bassist, I’m meant to) or “you’re rock solid” (I’ve just wrote I’m a bassist and I’m meant to), “you’re the driving force” (I’ve just wrote twice I’m a bassist …) was overwhelmed by deep emotions everything for myself went south. I was as disoriented as a band when the bassist stops playing unannounced. Instead of my usual know what to do in a crisis and trust my instincts, there was a seriously hurt, confused, couldn’t comprend it person.
It is not every day your beloved tells you, among other baffling stuff and behaviour “you have no feelings, you don’t even cry at funerals”. Of the seven billion humans on Earth that human was aware I go deeply quiet and silent in such situations. That saying was just the more visible start of a downward spiral caused by depression, grief and trauma – his – that spill over in all sorts of ugly manners and would culminate in a wrecked marriage and a miscarriage. Miscarriage is a soft way of putting what happened, but I’m not ready to go further in such a public forum. Connect the dots.
still from Deep Emotions film by Sapphire Goss
So… so… On the record when Bernard sings “I’m not holy in possession of myself” it is not Bernard my mind sees, hears. It is something far more dangerous than him speaking about himself in a song. And it gives me the shivers.
If I go further back, there is another major episode of raining deep emotions I had no idea how to deal with. My by then boyfriend, husband to be, me and a friend had a music and poetry project. I was offstage, picking most of the poems. My husband picked a few and wrote some. He read/spoke them on stage with our friend compositions and musical support. The hurt, pain, mortification, inner darkness coming out when my husband read, interpreted the poems, in particularly one called Leilão (Auction) in which the narrator auctions every part of itself, including its most treasure possession, the heart, was too much for me.
Not knowing how to express how much it upset me to see his raw pain, how it heart broke me, I issued an ultimatum “It’s the band or I!”, knowing too well it would be me. By then, we were young, life was hectic, all the concepts now easier to speak of eluded us. I have memory no of ever explained the reason for the ultimatum. Life, and other projects, carried on. Until the darkness and deep, muffled, or explosive, emotions I didn’t knew how to deal with, now with more added hurt and grief, resulted in self destruction, into which I nearly got fully pulled into. I came back home, we both bare the scars, our bond is broken.
still from Deep Emotions film by Sapphire Goss
So… So… Deep emotions are very scary. At least for me. “I’m hard to reason with, that’s not in doubt…”, “the saddest story is my anguish and pain”, “I got deep emotions running through my veins/Sometimes I feel guilty, sometimes I feel pain”, “when they take me over I’m harder to reach…” Oh! 😦 It’s still not Bernard my mind hears and sees, even if it is his voice singing.
As for “I’m drawn to the boundaries of longitude/Iike the companionship of solitude”, that’s far more me, my longitude often being inner.
It’s the guitars, isn’t it? On the record. They come from here, and there, and then there is that big, fat, bluesy one, that contrasts and adds to the dramatic crescendo. And the clapping. If it is clapping. Drums, maybe?
And now I just made part of my story known and opened myself to be scrutinized. It is fine. Another friend told me I should write a book with my life story. I’m not quite there. This things take time. For now, I may go back to my own Good Grief (or Ghosteen) a record in sketch mode, that came to me out of the blue with a set number of tracks, names for most of them, a storyline. I set it aside “It’s silly. I don’t want to go there. I’ll have to explain it.”…
Fortunately for me, Good Grief only has seven more songs. Meanwhile, until the next one is out, I’m going to see the stars, and planets, aline above the urban mountain top, with back view to the sea, I live at.
P.S. I’ve mailed you the tissues bill, Mr. Butler. It is quite hefty. I’ll accept your gorgeous factory black 330 as payment.
A little over one year ago my friend Dana suggested me Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. I have now been writing The Morning Pages, an integral part of the book that is meant to be carried on.
Dana recommending me The Artist’s Way wasn’t so much because I was artistically blocked. I was composing, playing, painting, writing poems and more at the time. More because I wasn’t going to physical places I wanted to go. My feet, my body, seemed glued. In early 2022 I was invited by a friend to go and spend time with him. I truly wanted to, but couldn’t move.
Maybe summer (2022) would be it. It wasn’t. Summer 2022 brought a big musical piece, appeared literally when I woke up, name, concept, the names of several tracks all there. I turned my laptop on, opened Audacity and start cresting the sounds that, for me, translated the names of the tracks.
Out of the blue, as a coincidence, that Julia Cameron just like my friend Ed call synchronicity, Francisco (Silva – The June Carriers/Velho Homem/Old Jerusalem) start sending small guitar lines for me to hear the sound of his new guitar, an electric one (in Old Jerusalem life, Francisco was known for playing acoustic). He didn’t knew I was composing, I didn’t knew he had the Mustang. “What if I put some of those guitar lines on my tracks?” And so I did and what was electronic start become, and end up, electro-acoustic.
That same summer another friend turned 50. Until the eve of his birthday I didn’t knew he played (guitar), he didn’t knew I played (bass). There was going to be a band in which he was playing covers. I said I would go and play bass. And I did. I had played with them before, had never played on stage, hadn’t played bass in about 18.5 years until a few months before, no rehearsal. Just get there, they were already playing when I arrived, pick the house bass and go for it. It was great.
A few days later I was at the jams that were held at the place of the birthday party. This time, it was tricky to get the house bass. A woman playing electric? Seems not (it turned out is wasn’t just a woman playing electric, but not being from the proper musical background. I stayed there, observing, until I spotted an approachable musician, a saxophonist. We both played together, by the end of the jam. Total improv. He would wonderfully fit the saxophone wherever it was required. The next week he brough a jazz guitarist that gave me four 7th arpeggios to practice to play with them one week later. And so it was.And then it stopped. But I got a fabulous saxophonist for my music I didn’t even knew I needed. That summer I also started painting on canvas.
I didn’t went to stay with my friend. Autumn, Winter came. I didn’t went to go see my friend. It’s 2023. I want to go see someone play abroad. My feet remain glued. Dana, aware of what has been written so far and more, told me about The Artist’s Way. I read it, did all the exercises – some may, at first glance seem silly and childish, but aren’t – begin writing The Morning Pages.
I start venturing into short distance travels by train. Stayed overnight with a recent acquaintance. And with a different friend for a few weeks, carrying a ton of notebooks, my guitar, the digital copy of The Artists Way. It was the first time I spend a number of weeks with an electric guitar as my only instrument. It was a thrill.
Over two years since he invited me, I still haven’t went to see the friend that asked over in early 2022 – there is a little more to the story than my feet being glued the floor. As in, my feet were glued to the floor, but something else, my heart, was glued too. Under his shyness, my friend is adventurous, passionate, intense, larger than life, has deep emotions, loves love, passion and life. I share some of those things, but don’t deal well with deep, bubbling emotions. Open my heart again? Run the risk of heartbreak? Probably not. One day it will (re)happen.
But The Morning Pages have been there for me, so has he who keeps telling me to write for others to read. I write a lot on my journal(s), notebooks, The Morning Pages, to him.
I’ve recommended The Artist’s Way to a few people. Some already read it, did the exercises and wrote The Morning Pages for a while. Others bought the book and are still to read it, do the exercises and immerse themselves in The Morning Pages. My Morning Pages aren’t always in the morning, but I’ve been writing the three pages everyday. Matt, another friend, thinks it is quite the commitment to be writing The Morning Pages for a year.
Early this year I went to a vero circuit/guitar pedal building wokshop. A nice distortion/fuzz pedal both for guitar and bass was build. The last time I had soldered I was 13 or 14. Afterwards, home, I painted and customized the pedal box. Some of the materials, like the sparkling dust and the stars were part of a number of things from The Artist’s Way exercises. The rest is acrylic paint and glossy nail varnish and coat.
I’ve recently become a member of Grupo Operário do Ruído (Workers Noise Group) an ensemble of noise(s) and rhythm from Sonoscopia that will have its public presentation December 8th at Conservatório de Música do Porto. We have a staggering amount of rehearsals and a few workshops. Grupo Operário do Ruído is far less leftfield for me than what can be called life narration writing. To an extent I do that with my poems, but it is very different. I’ve also taken a short trip by metro to the seaside north of Porto that included seeing a small intimate concert friends had put up.
In fairness, I move across very different social groups. So much so that now Beatriz, one of my fellow members of Grupo Operário do Ruído (GOR) asked if her fellow GOR members would be interested in being part of her group of guests in a performance she is part of called Sonópolis. Sonópolis is to be presented at Sala Suggia, the orchestra room, at Casa da Música, July 7th. I’m in!
Mondo Bizarre Magazine 