kelle.de

Yesterday night I made a discovery.
I watched this: http://plus7.arte.tv/fr/detailPage/1697660,CmC=2255684,CmPage=1697660.html

What really struck me was the performance of Joey Burns from the US Band Calexico (I had never heard about them before). The performance is found roughly halfways on the video accessible through above link, featuring two songs (A wonderful acoustic version of “Two silver trees” and a hardly rehearsed but perfect full band version of “Tornado Watch”). Also try searching for “Calexico” on Youtube.

This is wonderful wonderful stuff. So full of bold experimental and melancholic melodies and lyrics. Yet with some texmex elements (brass and classic mariachi guitars) that add an almost sarcastic note to their mostly noir music pieces. Sounds like an impossible combination, doesn’t it? Lesson learnt: If you want to do something bold and new, you  have to make the impossible possible.

This is the western wall video I did yesterday. The movie was recorded in my flat and on the balcony, as well as half a mile away, or so, where some remains of the actual western wall are located.

The cold rain dribbling onto the roof window in no haste but with steadiness, getting heavier with each drop. It feels almost like north atlantic is reaching out with his mighty chilling grip, far onto land. It is safe and warm inside, but I can sense the stormy breeze ooze underneath windowsills and doorsteps. And outside in this cauldron of deadly atmospherics, somewhere there are you, waiting and hoping for the bus to come soon.

What do you do if you live on the German/Dutch border, and there is a weekend, no plans. Yes. You go to Amsterdam. Little did I prepare but taking a small backpack with some spare cloths and 2 bottles of beer for the trip. It was saturday night, and I went to the small train station of my town. With a good deal of delay the train finally arrived at Heerlen central, and on went the ride to good old Amsterdam, where I met my friend Steinn from Iceland. There we went, to the Korsakoff, an alternative club location on Lijnbaansgracht, dark and dense in atmosphere, the wretched saluting in mutual respect, gazing at colourful delight and indulging in spheres of heavy sound. Caleidoscoped by these impressions we stumbled out at last, into the fresh night, where the where-go-nows flocked. We sheltered us into the company of a group of Swedesmen, first indulging in jestful banter on site, then while moving on. The move targeted at the central station where we took the early train down south, back to Heerlen. This was were the journey found its preliminary end at a cafë without windows, without food, and without drink.