What music are you listening to? | 1

[Crocus sativus]

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[Typhoon]

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[Hoosiernorm]

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[Hoosiernorm]

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Went to see a friend of mine play at a bar this past weekend and these guys were playing the opener. They are a really solid band.

[Typhoon]

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[Skin Job]

Taking a break from dubstep, and found something you fellas might enjoy!

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[Hoosiernorm]

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Essential Thanksgiving Music

[Hoosiernorm]

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[Hans Bulvai]

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[Apollonius]

In commemoration of the anniversary (two days ago) of the death of Montserrat Figueras:


Yo soy la locura - Henri du Bailly (c.1590-1637) ; Montserrat Figueras, soprano ; Andrew Lawrence-King, harp ; Pedro Estevan, percussion
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Ohimè ch'io cado - Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643) ; Montserrat Figueras, soprano ; Ton Koopman, harpsichord ; Andrew Lawrence-King, harp ; Rolf Lislevand, lute
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[Hans Bulvai]

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[Hans Bulvai]

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[Hans Bulvai]

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[Hans Bulvai]

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[Hans Bulvai]

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[Hoosiernorm]

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[Azrael]

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Spinning the 45 old-school style

[Azrael]

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[Typhoon]

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[NapLajoieonSteroids]

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[Typhoon]

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[Miss_Faucie_Fishtits]

she was truly a great...... but, since I'm lacking in taste:

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[Hoosiernorm]

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[Apollonius]

It's not too early for Christmas music. There is so much good stuff.


I'll start with some villancicos.


Some religious authorities considered these a little scandalous (they are sometimes even bawdy), but here is Pedro Cerone, author of the famous 17th-century treatise, El Melopeo y Maestro, defending the villancicos, which he compared to the mascherate sung at Italian carnivals:

There are some people so lacking in piety that they attend church but once a year, and miss all the Masses of Obligation, because they are too lazy to get up out of bed. But let it be known that there will be villancicos, and there is no one more devout in the whole place, none more vigilant than these people, for there is no church, oratory or shrine that they will not visit, nor do they mind getting up in the middle of the night in the freezing cold, just to hear them.

From the Portuguese composer Fr. António da Madre de Deus, who served as master of the chamber music to King Alphonse VI of Portugal from 1660 to 1668. It has an amusing plot as the characters involved have fallen asleep after a long evening of drinking and dancing. They now wake each other up in order to get to Bethlehem on time to pay homage to baby Jesus, one of them repeatedly complaining, at regular intervals, of a terrible headache from having drunk too much:


Negro a 5 – Frei Filipe da Madre de Deus (ca.1630-ca.1690) ; La Capella Reial de Catalunya ; Hespèrion XXI directed by Jordi Savall
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Antonya, Fasiquia, Caspar!
What is it, what’s that you say, what’s wrong?
I’m blest if I know what ails me
this Christmas Eve
What’s this feeling, what’s wrong with us,
what do we want?
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

We all feel faint
our faces are burning up,
and our chests feel tight,
after a draught of wine
that black Purity served us.
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

Oh Jesus, my head is spinning,
oh Jesus, how it aches.
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

Our Lady have mercy on us,
let’s all be on our way.
All you black women,
the strangest motley crowd,
that all the whites are coming to hear.
Your barefaced wretch – you are
you lying wretch – you are
drunken wretch – you are
a disgrace to the negro race! – you are
A lady’s what I am, I’ll have you know
that’s sick from drinking sanguangua, ha ha.
An honest woman, too, hi hi, ha ha.
it’s you that is a barefaced, lying wench,
as all black folk will see.
What are you calling for now?

To go to Bethlehem
to see the Infant Immanuel
who was born in the hay
the black folk will do the splits
as they dance and sing
and play sweet tunes.
Oh, my head how it aches,
the drunken woman comes and goes,
the drunken woman sings, and away she goes.
Oh, my head, it is aching so
Drunken, drunken goes.


Verse
Here we are at the Crib
now see how the baby cries,
nestling in Mary’s arms he lies
waiting for the black woman
to lull him to sleep.

As we stand there I watch him
Will he fall or not?
Methinks all the beauty of the child
will be lost shaking to and fro.
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

See the mule and the oxen
watching over his crib,
the oxen are lowing
and the mule is munching hay.

The oxen feed on manna
and the mule keeps munching away,
I’ll drink the health of the child,
glug, glug, glug, another drop I’ll take.
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

Refrain
Le le le la la la
the drunken woman comes and goes,
the drunken woman sings, and away she goes,
and my head, it is aching so,
Le le le la la la
the drunken woman away she goes.


See the angels and shepherds
who have come to worship him,
in choirs of song proclaiming
that manna from heaven has rained
on us with the child that’s been born today.

I’m blest if I know
about manna from heaven and rain,
but wine’s another matter
and I’ll down as much as I can.
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

Refrain: Le le le la la la ..

Look how attentive
Saint Joseph is,
worshiping the babe,
that as father he owns as his.

Joseph plied the saw by trade
we know that to be true
so we in his honour ourselves will ply
with this wholesome mountain brew.
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

Refrain: Le le le la la la ...

This night we are all restless,
not stopping to draw a breath,
for we have presently witnessed
how God came down to Earth.

If God has come down to Earth,
and is startled by our gaze,
this black woman’s off home half crazy she goes
to knock back some more booze.
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

Refrain: Le le le la la la ...

You say, what good will it do me?
And that is your mistake.
A black woman’s faith
is a smoky haze,
of quicksand it is made.

In long, slow swigs
I’ve drunk of this and that,
and since it’s God’s birthday,
I’ll drink and snore it off as best I may.
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

Refrain: Le le le la la la ...

Hey, look at the three Kings
who have come to adore the child,
and among them is our cousin,
the black king, old Caspar.

Look, now, here they come,
with drink for a toast or two, with bottles
galore and a star
that dazzle and blind my view
Oh, my head, it is aching so.

Refrain: Le le le la la la ...

[Apollonius]

Ay, que me abraso - Juan García de Céspedes (1619-1678) ; Hespèrion XXI ; Tembembe Ensamble Continuo
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Oh, how I burn,
oh, master divine
in the beauty of your eyes!
Oh how they shed
a thousand stars
of glorious fiery tears!



Oh, the glory
of Bethlehem, bright
with beams of sunlight
and shafts of ice!
Oh, how His mother,
in the glass as she gazes,
watches Him grow
in her mirror reflected!



As the child
yields to slumber,
with a guaracha
we’ll fete Him.
So play then, and dance,
as now we admire
the fire in the snow
and the snow in the fire!


But oh, how the Little One,
laughing and crying
unites two extremes
at the very same time!


Peace to all men
from Heaven on high,
and thanks be to God,
for now we’ll be quiet!

Here’s a video of a live performance, perhaps not done to the absolute peak of perfection like that of the production from Jordi Savall et al., but played and sung very nicely:


Ay, que me abraso - Juan García de Céspedes (1619-1678) ; Flammula Voces & Flammula Musici
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