Monday, March 29, 2010

Musical Night

When the guitarist bends the thinnest string of his instrument, he goes higher than his listeners think. He goes into realms unknown to the unsuspecting watcher (who, by the way, is more engaged with the colour of the guitar). He goes ka-boom. Whooshi-whooshi-whoosh. And when he bends the thinnest string from the highest fret, it’s total rocka-jaggory. I can’t tell you about it and I won’t. You wouldn’t wanna know.

On the drums, Michael Monk. APPLAUSE please!

If you wanted to give the piano (OK. OK. Keyboard, for the newly-initiated) player another name, you could call him a Weaver. He weaves what? Melodies? I don’t know exactly, but he weaves for sure. Threads running haywire.

“I can’t get no Sattis-faction.”

And at final last, the great virtuoso saxophone player, ladies and gentlemen, Charles Boyd. He plays the alto saxophone and boy, does he BLOW.

What? Aren’t we gonna talk about Bach? The Bach? We are, for sure, but only after we have managed to understand why his hair looks like he washed it with mayonnaise.

Thank you, guys. We totally, totally loved performing here. We’d be back sooner than you can imagine.

Monday, March 15, 2010


In days of need, of hunger
That’s when people come together

They may roam about all aloof
Very lost in their own
Until the night of need arrives
And they flock to different specimens
Of their own

Helping each other out
In planned cooperation
And strained collaboration

But still in these processes of togetherness
Their own survives
Still in such joint projects
They refuse to be humbled
By the need of the hour
Or by the hour of need

They hold their space together
And shine in the light of their minds
And this more than anything else
Binds these people in a bundle