13 april 2012 CRISIS? …..

Bert, onze geluudsman, is d’ er al als ik een man heur praoten met een geweldig Engels accent. Fout, maor daor zo meer over. Dizze man heurt bie een stellegie jonge muzikanten, die heul veurzichtig Europa veroveren. Pokey LaFarge & The South City Three bennen in Spiekerboor. En eerlijk is eerlijk. Ik ben d’er groots op. Veurig jaor waren ze aofsloetende band op Take Root en naoderhaand waren ze te gast bie de BBC, bie Jools Holland. Me dunkt!

Ik loop naor boeten en begroet Pokey, Joey, Adam en Ryan. Wat mie geliek opvalt is de wieze, waorop de mannen d’er bielopen. 

Kiek, ik ken hun muziek; western swing met een vette knipoog naor ragtime en old-timemusic. Zeg maor de muziek uut films van laurel & Hardy enzo. 

Maor dat ze ook daogelijks die tied uutstraolen verrast mie een beetie. En toch past het bie de mannen. Niks crisis, maor optimisme. Mooi!

Ik wies ze de weg en kom met de raodmanager aan de praot. De man met het ongeleufelijke accent.

Weer fout! Niks accent: Garry is Scottish. En dat wil e je laoten heuren ook.

Dan het concert.

Ik hol van dizze muziek. Hou mot ik daor objectief over praoten of schrieven. As ik de goudgevulde zaol inkiek zai ik mensen heur stoul aan de kaant schoeven; ze wilt daansen, ze mout daansen. Het is de muziek, die je vrag:”kom daans met mie”. 

De muziek hef misschien een band met de crissisjaoren, dizze aovend is de crisis wied vot.

As t concert aoflopen is en de eerste bezuikers heur auto opzuikt, zai ik enkel maor lachende gezichten. Veul met een cd-tje, en enkeling met een vynyllproduct.

Pokey Lafarge & The South City Three waren in Spiekerboor en dat willen de bezuikers waiten ook.

De “doempies” bent dan ook niet van de lucht.

PoemOnTheSpot, written and performed (part I)(accompanied on guitar by Dave Quanbury) during the concert of TWILIGHT HOTEL, Roots on the Road @ 't Keerpunt, Spijkerboor, April 7, 2012:

TOUGH AND WEATHERED

I. (first set)

Songs like old leather

worn and soft

tough and weathered

people are gathered

they came in rainy weather

to hear these songs of:

whispers in growing fears

through the night

but finally I'll be free

wolves will be blind

you'll be free, really free

if dogs run free why can't we

darkness by blinded eyes

wolves go blind

this night will break the day

we'll be free, we will be

the world goes round

the world embraces

the world faces standing still

love sparkles, love finds its way

in this room, filled with me

not knowing what love is;

does it light up?

is it lightning?

is it paying bills?

is it life's last will?

forests, lakes, lives together

and sing a song of

cities, sunshine, wind

at cheeks turned and turned again

hearts bleed mud

and I long fot whatever city -

city on it's knees

city full of shadows

and the river flows

and my shiver knows

lost and found in time passed by

time to come

Johnny's house burnt down

but his music

worn and soft

tough and weathered

keeps on going on

like a cigarette in a frozen town

chilly and willin'

inhaling, exhaling

breathe of life

new day, dawn breaking

centuries steaming

we're locked up in this frozen town

where everyone's hanging on

and on and on

(like a guitar sliding

through light and shadow)

all is well

hear the bell

this night, this late night

strange lights draw me to the cold

I get old, younger than yesterday

there's this masterplan

go ahead

I wish you well but

I can't tell

I don't know of high and low

there's a wild card to my heart

I wish you well but

I can't tell, Alice

I'm weathered and tough

worn and soft

like old leather

playing your ribs like keys

shivers quiver like a name

like words spoken, like lanterns in Chinatown

from blackbird-lips

sing me into your song

let me be, let me belong

like a trumpet sounding free

let you be me

break my day and waste it

tear it apart and taste it

this day, morning dove

to you this song

this sing-along day

loneliness disguised as love

I see you, my morning dove

outside in the streets

strangers with weeds in their hearts -

compared to what?

get from under the bar

gypsies are in town

drop your illusions

delusions, solutions

and get to this place

where time washes

itself and the clock works

like old leather

worn and soft

tough and weathered

II. (second set)

Dance your whispers into a song

wake up in a swollen river

touch the heavens

roll your own

and dance your words

dance dawn to day

bar be cue, meat the people

roll your own

the horses in my heart

get a grip and hold on

be a master

ask her, tell her, sing her

play your trumpet

and

sound her, call her

be a thief of her heart

hold on, hold on

she will let you in

to her horses

she will master it

don't hurry, don't worry

just fall down to your knees

you'll find a heart that is right

let's make our day

while guitars are sounding like horizons

like hills, like roads to anywhere -

this day, our day

don't hesitate

impatient love

my heart's been pushed

I'm going forward in the red sunset

showing teeth, a hollow heart, bleeding free

marks on her arms

signed, sealed and delivered

bleeding heart, beating heart

(a man, dead on a hotel-bed

she waited by his side

all night

'til light was bright....)

bleeding heart, beating heart

day to day

lost in those eyes

swimming in forgetfullness

heartaches of strangers in bed

dreaming of separate lives

failures in books, written by desires

anywhere where we make it

where we break it

where we fake it

let's count the ways

let's forget the heartaches;

here's some sand in your eyes

sleep my love

and be my mistake again

don't let the waters run dry

balladeer, draw near

sit by the fire

and then: head north

jump on a truck

I wish you luck

sleep in a hut in the fields

and the man dressed in white

(do you hear the knock on your door?

in the quiet of night?);

I carry his child

he owns nothing worthy to sell

his pockets are empty

but I have no choice

there's this voice

there's these words from the desert

I hear them

speaking of rocking-me-words:

so I wake up to the clock that's killing me

baffling and billing me

rocking and rolling me

and I'll be home

wherever I roam

bein'on the ground

so low down

change my way of livin'

staying up all night long

being down no more

got of the floor

played my songs

opened the door

to show you more

songs like old leather

worn and soft

tough and weathered

soft and warm

and we got all night

to let the records play:

it's allright, it's okay

to twang along

to clap our hands

to solo-guitar where it stands

lend a hand

let the records play

songs like old leather

worn and soft

tough and weathered

and yes, another song

a brandnew song

to carry you home

to me

in the summertime

where coyotes sing the chorus in this Yes!

another song

to sing him back to me

in the summertime

where all is green

while everything takes a part of nightmares

and this theme sings me to a sundown

forever more. forever this day

of holding your breath

I'll tell you all of my secrets

lie about my past

and then

send you off to bed

forever more

-Egbert Hovenkamp II-