Aaaaaaaaaaallo! schön dass du hier bist,
ich honschoggele mich hier jetzt in einem jonken donken Haus ganz allein, doch nicht allein, sondern mit zwei Kätzen die ganz goofig sind, die fressen jeden Tag Spaghetti und dann, wie mir ehrzählt wird, fangen Maüse. Basically, theyr’e not dogs. I am trying to keep my GERMAN going, trying to keep it flowing as I honschoggle myself alone in a jonking donking house, kept company only by spaghetti-eating cats who I’m sorry, but, JUST AREN’T DOGS!
It’s not easy being green. Start again. It’s not easy gulping down syllables and speech sediments that, to my mind, are misty mountains mounted on the walls of my shabby memory. What I’m trying to say on this music blog, that will eventually lead up to and introduce a bundle of music related to what I’m trying to say to you, is, if you learn a language, you learn a part of your fiddly self, a new side: how you then interact with that language is how you react to your own very person as a speaking, sociable, sometimes sulky little animal.
Und so, meine Freunde, meine verlorene schwarze Schafen, deren Nächte hier einen hellen Bild von Bergscrollen und Denklichte geworden sind, bitte scroll downwards, mount my my first automated installment of songs upon the wall, click onwards, alight upon my conflicted Englishman’s German Language Music Story (EGg LaMpS). I have intentionally collected music that I like, that is relatively unknown, and that has enough German vocab in it to usher an English-speaking listener, as myself, somewhere utterly else, to explore a new land, a new language of song. This is definitely the kind of cabin to be lost inside.
It’s sad that this has happened, that I’ve done this. The truth is, however, there is a disastrous dissymetry between English-speakers and non-English speakers in terms of the language listened to, in terms of music. Every single person who reads music blogs like this, from all over the world, will have favourited songs with lyrics in them of the English language. The same can 100% not be said of any other language. This statement is true and it’s also true that the English language is not aesthetically or rhythmically or syntaxically superior to all other languages when it comes to music. So, what’s the crack? Guys, I’m talking Vietnam here, I’m talking British India, I’m talking alcohol and tea leaves, drugs for the indigenous and drones for the indignant, the Western wrongs on the world, I’m talking noisily so just press play please, take the Politics and the opinions with a pinch of salt, blur through my opening bilingual nonsense, it’s late and I’m fairly sure the cats are extremely hungry.
Unfortunately, given my position, the old computer and the harddrive, I cannot do an 8tracks mix as the songs aren’t all on SoundCloud, and I can’t upload songs as I’m on another person’s computer. These are such 2000s problems I know, apologies. Because I’m away for weeks and weeks and Marcus is more busy behind the scenes at the moment, I’ve automated posts over the next 2 weeks, all of them on the theme mentioned above, to reflect my predicament and my situation, which this blog is always helpfully doing. Given the automated installment nature of these posts, I couldn’t help but connect them all together. Be prepared for a mindboggling slightly nonsensical short-story, drawn out oddly over a stretch of time. It takes only two installments before the music is at best referred to indirectly through the tools of metaphorical objects and imaginary people. If this is dissatisfying then apologies, but I didn’t have time to keep it concise.
First up! –
byebye – Weg
One is quite flamboyant with his head-movements and the other is quite still: amusingly reminiscent of Brett and Jermaine from Flight of the Conchords. This song is beautiful to be honest, so are these people and I almost want to go on a mission to end up accidentally at a big after-after-party, all the new friends mulling, soft hands and sofas, where these guys are feeling relaxed and there are two guitars sitting obediently on the curtain-drawn window-sill, patiently waiting. Weg by byebye is the best 4am chilled-out gig music I can fantasise in zonks.