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Archive for the ‘Orhan Pamuk’ Category

SOUNDTRACK: HAYKO CEPKIN-“Kabul Olur” (“Accepted”) (2018).

Hayko Cepkin is a Turkish singer of Armenian descent.  He was born on March 11, 1978 in Istanbul.

It’s hard to find out anything about him that’s not in Turkish.  So I’m including what I find interesting

In June 2005, he released his first album “a collection of compositions he recorded at home and all lyrics, music and arrangements of his own.”

He left Istanbul in 2014 and moved to Selçuk, İzmir.  He bought 9 acres of land from Şirince, and created a place where the lovers of Varil / Barrel Camping will enjoy and relax. The artist continues his music studies here.

He even had a festival there some years ago.

This song is from his latest album which is a great example of Anatolian rock–a fusion of Turkish folk and rock music.  He has taken it to some heavier levels than other bands with heavy electronics.

“Kabul Olur” starts with some electronic sounds and a flute before Cepkin starts singing in his rather lovely, powerful voice.

A minute it the drums kick in and the song starts to rock.  And then comes the power chorus at 1:20 (the second time through is even more powerful).  The post-chorus–the repeated title–is like a decompression after the intensity of the chorus.

The pounding middle section is a great combination of his growls and a traditional flute.

The denoument is him repeating “tamam” which means okay.  Its an ntense ending to a song that totally rocks.   Here’s the translated and original lyrics and the video below.

“Accepted”

My path is long, slow
Yolum uzun, ağır ağır geçer 
Life is tired I lean a little, see me
Ömür yoruldum eğilin biraz, beni görün 
The road is not this life desperation
Yol değil bu ömür biçaresizlik 
Stop, this is the final final way to death.
Durdurun, kesin final bu yol ölüm. 
Hear my voice, my voice is a little choked.
Duy duy sesim sesim biraz biraz kısık kısık buruk. 
He sees the end, walks, crazy heart.
Sonunu görür, yürür, deli gönül. Why isn’t my day in the season. 
Neden mevsim olupta günüm geçmiyor. 
Why is it born in my hands and dying? 
Ellerime doğupta neden ölüyor 
Even after all life goes by 
Bile bile sonuçta ömür geçiyor 
Heavy heavy heavy heavy heavy …
Ağır ağır ağır ağır ağır…Acceptance?
Kabul mu olur? 
Yeah, okay.
Evet, tamam.
Why isn’t my day in the season. 
Neden mevsim olupta günüm geçmiyor. 
Why is it born in my hands and dying? 
Ellerime doğupta neden ölüyor 
Even after all life goes by 
Bile bile sonuçta ömür geçiyor 
Heavy heavy heavy heavy heavy … 
Ağır ağır ağır ağır ağır… It’s okay.
Kabul olur. 
Yeah, okay.
Evet, tamam.

 

[READ: June 4, 2019] “Geneva, 1959”

The June 10th issue of the New Yorker features five essays by authors whom I have enjoyed.  They were gathered under the headline “Another Country.”

I do love a story which features lots of diacritics, and this one sure does.  Orhan talks about his brother Şevket and their mother Şekure and how they left Turkey because their father had gotten an good job with IBM in Switzerland.  The boys were seven and nine and their mother wanted them to learn French.  She had learned French in Istanbul and believed she could teach them at home.

But the boys were willful and she gave up, assuming the children would learn the language on the shore of Lake Geneva, in the parks, on the streets, or even at school.

But Orhan resisted the French language.  All of school was in French and Orhan seized up.  Mostly he hated being separated from his brother and he felt at sea. (more…)

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SOUNDTRACK: KALBELLS-Tiny Desk Concert #783 (September 5, 2018).

The opening of the first song “Craving Art Droplets” was kind of promising, with the backing singers (Angelica Bess on keys, Sarah Pettinotti on bass) all “yeahing” at the same time and their rather strange chord progressions (and synth bass).  But once the song started, I realized it wasn’t going to get any better.  Just layer upon layer of cheesey synths.  The only thing that saved it was the live drums (Zoey Brasher), even though they don’t add a lot.

Just before the break, the song builds in an interesting way with everyone chanting louder and louder. And just when I thought there was hope, it devolved into the worst thing ever–lead singer Kalmia Travera’s long cheesey sax solo.  Oh dear.

She introduces the next piece: “The next song we’re gonna play is a medley.”  That’s a strange intro for songs no one knows.  Wordless chanting starts “123456/Bodyriders” (along with a cowbell).  The lyrics… are puzzling at best “Six was the rest, six was everything” (?)  When it segues into “Bodyriders,” the Travera singing high notes over the chanted background is promising, but those synth sounds again…. (even when she bends the notes, it’s still cheesey). .

“Droolerz” is a new song and has an amusing lyric: “We could play drums and eat lobster at the opera.”  And the way the delivery comes across is enjoyable.  The chorus also wants to be fun

Dance in the back yard, lets party
Let out all our demons, in the heat
Hang out on the lawn, in the dark
Naked in the shower, till dawn

But the way it’s sung is such a downer I can’t stand it.  Maybe its the synths–but I feel like the song is struggling and failing to be bigger than it is.  It all feels really sad to me.

[READ: April 15, 2016] “Distant Relations”

Sometimes it’s easy to tell that a piece in the New Yorker is an excerpt.  And sometimes you just hope it is.  And in this case, my hope was founded.  “Distant Relations” is a chapter from Pamuk’s book The Museum of Innocence, (like this excerpt, it was translated from the Turkish by Maureen Freely).

The main reason I assumed it was an excerpt was because of one or two lines in the early section of this story.  The ending, while ambiguous, could have been a (relatively unsatisfying) ending, but those hints that there was more really made me want there to be more.

The story begins with the narrator talking about his fiancée Sibel.  It was 1975 and she had just noticed a purse in a shop window (by Jenny Colon).  He made a note to go back and get the purse.  Although they are in Turkey, both protagonists have been abroad,  He studied in America, while Sibel studied in Paris.

The next day he decided to go to the shop and buy the purse.  It was owned by a distant relative.  She wasn’t there when he went in, but instead there was a beautiful young woman there.  Before the transaction was finished, he recognized who it was.  It was his “cousin” Füsun.  I put cousin in quotes because it turns out that she is very very distantly related. (more…)

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SOUNDTRACK: THE HEAD AND THE HEART-Sasquatch Music Festival, May 28, 2011 (2011).

This is the fourth live recording from The Head and the Heart that NPR offers.  Not bad for a band with only one album out.  This set finds the band even more confident and relaxed (despite their genuine excitement at playing the festival).  The band sounds fantastic and I’ve really grown to appreciate the female harmonies on most of the songs now (I’ve not always liked them on every song).

This set has two as yet unrecorded songs in it (one of them was listed as untitled).  There’s some banter between the band and the fans (the band is nothing if not jovial) including a great story about how someone in the band went to Sasquatch the year before and swore he wouldn’t remove his backstage pass wrist band until The Head and The Heart band played Sasquatch.  I like to imagine there was ceremonial wrist band cutting ceremony on stage, but that is lost in the audio version.  Of course the story would be better if it was two or three years later, but it’s still a pretty good one. [See the Five Dials review below for a similar story!]

I found the sound quality of the show to be less than perfect.  The sounds are a bit muddied.  I don’t blame the band.  The Sasquatch venue may be beautiful (so many performers comment on it, I’d love to see the view) but I suspect that maybe the audio was less than stellar.

Nonetheless, The Head and the Heart continue to amaze in a live setting.

[READ: July 3, 3011] Five Dials Number 14

If Five Dials 13, The Festival Issue, was a double live CD, jam-packed with photos and stories and all kinds of wonderment, Five Dials Number 14 is an EP.  Even though it contains only one item, it’s more than a single, because the item is long and a lot is packed into it.  And that ends my metaphor.

One of the fun things about Five Dials is that it can be whatever length it wants to be. Many magazines offer double issues, but they never offer tiny issues afterwards.  And sometimes it’s nice to have a short issue that you can enjoy leisurely, without having to sift through filler.

So this issue consists of exactly two items: Craig Taylor’s introduction and the nobel prize acceptance speech by Orhan Pamuk. (more…)

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