It’s true, I admit it, I’m a film philistine. Despite Ken’s perfectly plausible explanation (internet, please thank Ken) for why film people love Ghost Dog, I would still rather sandpaper my cornea than see that movie again.
My point? So far, one person took me up on my offer to interview them - you should go read Ken’s great post (and my great questions!) over at Twunch. He also has a lot of snarky and sarcastic writing about other subjects that I’m sure you will love!
Tags: ghost dog, philistine, twunch
I like few singers passionately. Most of them, admittedly, are women. All of them write poetry which sounds like music. I actually have quite a few friends who are making this kind of music - what I consider magical, true music that seems so rare this day. The kind of music that goes right to your heart with a wrench and the toolkit. I guess it’s what they used to call ‘folk’.
What I find hardest to believe about these amazing friends of mine is their lack of fame. Not that I want to see them on the red carpet anytime soon; for purely selfish reasons: I love to secretly love the artists I enjoy. I like to cuddle up with them when I’m sad or depressed or lonely. I stick them in my ear buds and somehow that equals my heart. But it occurred to me that you guys might have friends making music like this too, and maybe we could work out some kind of a deal? Because I’m feeling needy and raw lately. And I need as much soul-harmony as I can get!
So here is one of my good friends for you, Carrie Lennard. I first met her when she came with her dad in the early nineties to Finca la Mota, the B&B I managed in South Spain, on a bicycle tour. One evening, late and (most of us) drunk, she sat at a barful of tough, working farmers and horsemen from Alhaurín el Grande. All of these guys know their Flamenco; this is how we spent most of our late evenings - singing and telling stories (all of us speaking over one another at full volume) with flamenco guitar-chords providing emphasis from the corner. After a lot of yelling, negotiating and hand-gestures, somebody finally, hesitantly loaned her a guitar. Within thirty seconds flat Carrie had all of those guys yelling “OLÉ” and every single one of us in the bar had tears in our eyes.
Will you make the trade even for me? If you feel like it, send me music or poetry from one of your friends who should be famous but somehow, mysteriously hasn’t “made it” past you into as many hearts and souls as they can… yet. And please, if you send anything- make it something that will balm the ragged parts of a soul. I need it right now.
For more from Carrie, drop me an email and I’ll be sure to put you in touch. Her first album; Kayla (my favorite) is available as linked in the name.
(post to be edited later to add pics)
