At first I thought "He Made His Way From the City (Fly Away Home)" was a Bob Marley song but, raking my brain, I could not identify it as such. So I mumbled it into the iPhone (RIP). As presented, it is the working out of a new reggae song that is distinct enough that I want to record it with a few ace musicians in the near future. Could be the Louie-Voltaire unit or the Jahpoy-Nils-Chuckie unit. Could be both, to compare results. There are also some tribal ska songs that I would like to get professionally recorded.
Fly Away Home has a specific message that anyone who has spent too much time in a sprawling urban environ aching to be back where trees exist can relate with. The soundscape that follows is a travel back in time to Mindoro, a place of semi-abundant––if not intact––natural beauty. And of relentless tricycle and jeepney led covering over.
The Wild Lagoon flute is a mythological narrative concerning a fish, bait, reeling, unreeling, and finally an eternal whirlpool where two arch enemy brothers meet. Yin and yang, black and white.
Followed by a very loose take on an old blues classic done by Leadbelly, Jim Morrison, Cobain, among others. Also integrated are field recordings of a kid in Sablayan teaching his younger brother how to play the mouth flute.
My conception of what is possible is expanding. My devices are lost, there may not be more mendicant recordings for a while. Enjoy fellow travelers.
* 1489 visits to the site yesterday (scratch that, three days ago), a record. There is an audience for this, somehow. I continue to edit a new section of Arisugawa Park, for tomorrow "David and Eve Collide. "Not as exciting as Superman v. Batman, I know....
** Shakespeare is addressing the topical subject of Huguenot asylum-seekers in ca. 1600 London. On the refugee issue, he writes:
You’ll put down strangers,
Kill them, cut their throats, possess their houses,
And lead the majesty of law in lyam
To slip him like a hound.
Alas, alas! Say now the King
As he is clement if th’offender mourn,
Should so much come too short of your great trespass
As but to banish you: whither would you go?
What country, by the nature of your error,
Should give you harbour?
Go you to France or Flanders,
To any German province, Spain or Portugal,
Nay, anywhere that not adheres to England:
Why, you must needs be strangers.
Humanist to the bone. Will joins Mark Twain on the list of writers I admire.