"As a guitarist/composer, Barrios is the best of the lot, regardless of era. His music is better formed, it's more poetic, it's more everything! And it's more of all those things in a timeless way." (John Williams)

"Oeps!" (Bas Kooman a few times during recording - inwardly)

Choro da saudade (Agustín Barrios Mangoré 1885-1944)

For Saskia and her dad (1935-2021)


[Rough English translation]
SOMEWHERE STILL HERE
Hey Dad, how are you
It's been a while
I miss you
I can still see you standing
Behind the front door
From the nursing home
How you kept waving
When we had to go

You couldn’t find your place
Didn’t get used to it there
You wanted to go home
With us
Until you forgot
Where your home was
Who everyone was
It all happened so fast

But it feels like you are somewhere
Somewhere still here with me
And know what I think

Hey Dad, I still see us
Together enjoying
Concerts by Bach
You with closed eyes
You were there for me
When I got depressed
That I was not alone
Spoke out of your face

And it feels like you are somewhere
Somewhere still here with me
And know what I think

Sometimes you were struggling
You could be angry, stubborn
Did not know what to do with yourself
The helplessness of your childhood
You came back to that again
A child, now skin and bone
That was always on its own
All alone

Hey Dad, I would
Like to talk to you
While I rub your shoulder
Somewhere still here, somewhere on earth
Where you are with me

Cover art: Katinka Kooman 
Strings: Javier Orman
Mastered 2022.10.16

Ergens nog hier

ERGENS NOG HIER

At the beginning the 7/8 measure may feel a bit uncomfortable to some, but that's exactly how the main character in this song feels. Until he gets drawn in...

[Rough English Translation]
DON'T ASK WHY
What makes life worth living
He asks wearily
It is the journey that you experience yourself
She says captivated
It's the wind
The sea, the salt
It's the child
In young and old
It’s our nature
The game, the sum
All together
And don't ask why

Don't ask why

What gives life ‘zin’ [In English: ‘meaning’] to you then
He asks intoxicated
How nice that you start about ‘zin’
She replies roguishly
For you to ask
For me to know
Is that too vague
Make ‘zin’ [In English ‘meaning’ but also ‘I feel like’] tactile
Don't you feel lust
Oh boy, come on
I want you to kiss me
And don't ask why

Don't ask why

VRAAG NIET WAAROM (click for translation)

The love makes narrow beds wide...

[Rough translation]
THE LOVE
It's nonsensical, says the mind
 It's ridiculous, snarls our pride
 It can't be true, exclaims the experience
 It is what it is, replies the love

The love, the love 
Makes narrow beds wide 
The love, the love 
Keeps old souls young 
The love, the love 
With or without oath
The love, the love
Refreshes us at the source

It's not worth it, sputters our fear 
It's a disillusionment, sulks the sadness 
 It's not what it seems, blushes the shame 
It is what it is, replies the love

The love, the love
Wins for those who dare
The love, the love
Does sometimes act a little silly
The love, the love
Gives more than it asks for
The love, the love
Or was it the other way around?

The love, the love
Is granted to all
The love, the love
Veiled and bared
The love, the love
God bless every attempt
The love, the love
With whom and anyhow

Sax: @DaveMcKeown
Rest: me
Cover picture: StockSnap

De liefde

DE LIEFDE (mastered 28.10.2022)

[English translation]
ADIEU
Again i saw my love leave
and again it was: Adieu, my heart; soon
it is done with you, with me, with us,
and time and space move in between.

Ah, how many trains I saw depart
from other, from identical terminals?
I turn around and mutter under my breath
what we didn't tell each other this time as well.

Again the world is opening up to me
But darling , I see, just where I look,
in every shop window a stranger walking
whom i look like since you left.

Even for those who have learned not to hope 
too much, the illusion gradually disappears
Again the world is opening up to him
But he only sees, where he looks,
in every shop window a stranger walking 
in every shop window a stranger walking...

Poem: Jean Pierre Rawie (bundle 'Woelig stof')
Music: me

Adieu

ADIEU

https://open.spotify.com/track/6ZqzH5qSUIeWQWTJJY9ppr?si=bceddb7ffcc9470d 

[rough translation]
RITUAL
I preserve the little ritual,
so you can return anytime.

Every day, when evening falls,
I prepare the table: an extra plate,

cutlery, your own chair, a candle, a glass,
as if you just were delayed.

I hear (how could I think that what
makes me who I am, was gone forever?)

I hear, as if the house still existed,
the gravel, the latch, the dog barking,

and you come in at the moment
I light the lamp, arrange the flowers.

I just hope I can stay calm
and without looking up from my silent routine

find the words, as if it were self-evident:
sit down, help yourself, you were expected.

[Dutch poem]
RITUEEL
Ik houd het kleine ritueel in ere,
opdat je elk moment terug kunt keren.

Iedere dag, wanneer het avond wordt,
maak ik de tafel klaar: een extra bord,

bestek, je eigen stoel, een kaars, een glas,
alsof je enkel opgehouden was.

Ik hoor (hoe kon ik denken dat hetgeen
waardoor ik ben, voor altijd was verdwenen ?),

ik hoor, alsof de woning nog bestond,
het grind, de klink, het aanslaan van de hond,

en je komt binnen op het ogenblik
dat ik de lamp ontsteek, de bloemen schik.

Ik hoop alleen dat ik dan rustig blijf
en haast niet opziend van mijn stil bedrijf

de woorden vind, als was het vanzelfsprekend:
Schuif aan; tast toe: er is op je gerekend.


Poem: Jean Pierre Rawie
Music & mix: Bas Kooman
Master: White Sea Studio (2022.06.27)

RITUEEL (mastered)

I wrote this song after reading a quote from the surrealist writer Jorge Luis Borges:

“A man sets out to draw the world. As the years go by, he peoples a space with images of provinces, kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fishes, rooms, instruments, stars, horses, and individuals. A short time before he dies, he discovers that the patient labyrinth of lines traces the lineaments of his own face.”

Here's to the full life.

@dave-McKeown: thanks Dave, for your brilliant contribution.
It makes all the difference!

[rough translation]
LOW HORIZON
wander with me all winter through the white frosted country
let us leave some traces in heather, polder, grassland, dune and beach
from Faith Hill to Baren Field
from Harm Wood to Chuckle Brook
take me to your heart, wander with me to the edge

wander with me all winter and tell me what you know
about this piece of earth that’s named to our first impressions
The Fire Timber or Leaf Fen
Shimmer Canal or Mill Dam
striking are the names that you nonetheless will soon forget

This is us
This is us, dear
dotted lines on the cold ground
I see you
I see you there
in the twilight on the path
on the low horizon

wander with me all winter, map out this land
roads, bridges, people, animals, anything you discover here
from Faith Hill to Baren Field
from Harm Wood to Chuckle Brook
isn’t it a mystery that reveals itself to us?

This is us
This is us, dear
dotted lines on the cold ground
I see you
I see you there
in the twilight on the path
on the low horizon

[Dutch lyrics]
LAGE HORIZON 
dwaal met mij de hele winter door het wit berijpte land
trek met mij een spoor door heide, polder, weide, duin en strand
van Geloofshoop tot Barreveld 
van Griefhorst tot Schaterbroek
haal met mij je hart op, dwaal met mij tot aan de rand

dwaal met mij de hele winter en vertel me wat je weet
van het stukje aarde dat naar onze eerste indruk heet
’t Vuurhout of Bladerven
de Glimvaart of Molendam 
beeldend zijn de namen die je ook weer zo vergeet

Dit zijn wij 
Dit zijn wij schat
stippellijnen op de koude grond 
ik zie jou
ik zie jou daar
in de schemer op het pad
aan de lage horizon

dwaal met mij de hele winter, breng met mij dit land in kaart
wegen, bruggen, mensen, dieren, alles wat je hier ontwaart 
van Geloofshoop tot Barreveld 
van Griefhorst tot Schaterbroek
is het geen mysterie dat zich aan ons openbaart?

Dit zijn wij
Dit zijn wij schat
stippellijnen op de koude grond
ik zie jou
ik zie jou daar
in de schemer op het pad
aan de lage horizon



LAGE HORIZON (Low horizon - with Dave McKeown)

Vocals: Zefora
Music & production: Bas Kooman
Painting: Glenn Brady (fragment)

Touch The Sky (Zefora vocals)

Can a non-religious person have religious feelings? I guess so. The feeling of being part of a greater whole can bring anyone joy and comfort. After i heard the moving lyrics of Sean Doran aka https://soundcloud.com/something-memorable and the song of Johny Minstrel (https://soundcloud.com/johnny-minstrel/oh-bury-me-a-collaboration) i was sure. I couldn't resist making my own song.


BURY ME (Lyrics Sean Doran)
bury me on a mountain , for the snow has melted now
for I never could put down roots, let the wild flowers show me how
Bury me by the Ocean,  where sea birds wheel and screech
 In my time I stole too many kisses,  now only waves will kiss the beach
   
bury me in such place, such place somewhere
 if there’s no trace left to find me,  you’ll know I’m at peace out there

bury me in the Desert,  the ground will be bone dry 
there been too much drinking in my life,  time to give abstinence a try
bury me in the Desert,  where the sun has no tears to cry
too many untruths have passed my lips,  now the sands will hide where I lie
 
bury me in that place, that place somewhere
 if there’s no trace left to find me,  you’ll know I’m at peace out there

bury me in a gold mine, the cool stillness of cut stone
where the water ’s constantly dripping, will sing a requiem for my soul
bury me in a gold mine, leave no trace above the ground
for I lost all the loves of my life, let me rest where something precious has been found

bury me in that place, that place somewhere
 if there’s no trace left to find me,  you’ll know I’m at peace out there

Painting: Bruno Condor

Bury Me

The number of people forced to flee their homes across the world has exceeded 50 million for the first time since the second world war. Half the world's refugees are children.

Thanks Dave (@dave-mckeown) for the sparkling sax and clarinet parts!

Photo: Shawn Baldwin

[English translation]
OUTLAWED
outlawed in camps
seeking refugee from the war 
scared, exhausted
fearful of every rumor
about new disasters
the occupier and his brutal rule
waiting for peace
in the cold outside

behind the fires the long day darkens
the hours slide in the black night
a path of star gravel lightens up 
are you going back home human child?

outlawed in camps
seeking refugee from the war 
muddling in tents
squatting near the sick
without money and food
standing in line with a sigh
waiting for peace
in the cold outside

behind the fires the long day darkens
the hours slide in the black night
a path of star gravel lightens up
are you going back home human child?

where you were born, to which god you pray
when all is lost, it's this you will find:
a helping hand is stronger than a fist
why is our world not a bigger home?

[Dutch lyrics]
VOGELVRIJ
vogelvrij, in kampen
voor de oorlog op de vlucht
kopschuw, moegestreden
beducht voor elk gerucht
over nieuwe rampen
de bezetter en de tucht
wachtend op de vrede
in de koude buitenlucht

achter de vuren dimt de lange dag
glijden de uren in de zwarte nacht
licht er een pad op van sterrengrind
ga je naar huis terug mensenkind?

vogelvrij, in kampen
voor de oorlog op de vlucht
modderend in tenten 
bij de zieken neergehurkt
zonder geld en eten
in de rij staand met een zucht
wachtend op de vrede
in de koude buitenlucht

achter de vuren dimt de lange dag
glijden de uren in de zwarte nacht
licht er een pad op van sterrengrind
ga je naar huis terug mensenkind?

waar je bent geboren, tot welke god je bidt
als alles is verloren, vind je enkel dit:
een helpende hand is sterker dan een vuist
waarom is de wereld geen groter thuis


VOGELVRIJ (with Dave McKeown - click for translation)

ODE AAN EEN MOOIE TIJD

Coverfoto: Skitterphoto

Station Halfweg

STATION HALFWEG (met Gregor Theelen)

Hoe kun je

HOE KUN JE (met Gregor Theelen)

ODE AAN EEN MOOIE TIJD

Coverfoto: Anemone123

Wie ik ook omarm

WIE IK OOK OMARM (met Gregor Theelen)

Poem: Jean Pierre Rawie
Music: me
Lovely light footed soprano sax: Dave McKeown 
Check his wonderful eclectic cloud: @dave-mckeown

KLEINE LIEFDESVERKLARING
Ik ben al bijna dood*, en ik 
zal nooit aan mensen wennen; 
zo meen ik ook geen ogenblik 
je werkelijk te kennen,

maar soms, tezamen in het huis 
en in één bed tezamen, 
met het behoedzame geruis 
van regen langs de ramen,

heb ik wel eens een kort moment 
gedacht dat ik doorgrondde 
hoe ondoorgrondelijk je bent, 
en dat al veel gevonden.

* Heb 'dood' veranderd in 'grijs'

[rough English translation]
LITTLE LOVE DECLARATION
I 'm almost grey*, and I
will never get used to people;
and I don't think for a second
that i really know you

but sometimes, together in the house
and in one bed together,
with the gentle murmur
of rain along the windows,

I thought for a brief moment 
that i comprehend
how incomprehensible you are,
and that this is already a lot.

The original poem has 'dead' instead of 'grey'.

PHOTO: Laura Williams


KLEINE LIEFDESVERKLARING (with Dave McKeown)

"It's never too late to play your pipes" - Dave McUilleann

Artwork: Cornett McKitchen (thanks Derek!)
More piperism: https://soundcloud.com/derek-cornett/mckeownegans-wake

In this song an Oblomov-type-a-guy wakes up early in the morning and he is determined to go working again, but life is what happens when you're making plans.


[Rough translation]
NEVER TOO LATE
when outside
the first bird whistles
and it is done with the night

I know
after all the time I was wasting
It's never too late to get up earlier

no doubt
It's really high time
with fresh courage to go back to work

and sober
without a bad drinking breath
maybe for now I should take it easy

my poor mother told me once
son, it's always better late than never
my poor mother told me once
son, it's always better late than never

I 'll manage
as I stay in my bed
and tomorrow go looking for a job

you do it
only if you can do it right
It's never too late to get up earlier

my poor mother told me once
son, it's always better late than never
my poor mother told me once
son, it's always better late than never



NOOIT TE LAAT (by Man McBasko and the mysterious piper)

6th track from the album 'Dans dwaas'

Clarinet: Dave McKeown @dave-mckeown
Guitars, bass, vocals & finger snaps: Bas Kooman
Music, lyrics & mix: Bas Kooman
Mastering: Darius van Helfteren

[English translation]
SUBURBAN SHEPHERD BLUES

I joggle here every night with my owner
through the streets of the neighborhood where I live
sometimes he stands still and has a chat
with the female owner of that arrogant poodle bitch

thankfully there ’s always something to smell
so I put my wet nose in the wind
and mostly towards the bushes
where it gets interesting and life gets some meaning

in the depths of my being
I'm really no pussy
but nothing in this neighborhood is what it seems
The tail wagging and bigotry
make me sad and furious
so I'm looking for a tree
to lift my paw
and listen to my own pee

the suburban shepherd blues
the suburban shepherd blues
the suburban shepherd blues

in the depths of my being
I'm really no pussy
and i used to herd cattle for work
how a dog can fail
is here one of the taboos
“he was always looking for a tree
to lift his paw”
will be written on my suburban tombstone

the suburban shepherd blues
the suburban shepherd blues
the suburban shepherd blues

[Dutch lyrics]
VINEX HERDER BLUES 
Ik sjok hier elke avond met mijn baasje 
door de straten van de woonwijk waar ik leef 
soms staat ie ook wel stil en maakt een praatje
met het vrouwtje van die poedel, die arrogante teef

er valt gelukkig altijd wat te ruiken
dus ik steek mijn natte neus graag in de wind
en meestal in de richting van de struiken  
daar wordt het interessant, daar krijgt het leven zin

in het diepste van mijn wezen
ben ik echt niet voor de poes
maar niets in deze buurt is wat het lijkt
dat gekwispel en gekwezel 
maakt me treurig en ook woest 
dus zoek ik een boom op
en til ik mijn poot op 
en luister ik 't liefste naar mijn eigen gezeik

de Vinex-herder blues
de Vinex-herder blues 
de Vinex-herder blues 

in het diepste van mijn wezen 
ben ik echt niet voor de poes
vroeger dreef ik koeien voor mijn werk
hoe of een hond kan sjezen
is hier een van de taboes
"hij zocht steeds een boom op
en tilde zijn poot op"
is al wat er rest voor op mijn Vinex-zerk

de Vinex-herder blues
de Vinex-herder blues 
de Vinex-herder blues

Dans dwaas

Vinex-herder blues

06 Vinex-Herder Blues (with Dave McKeown)

Words and voice: Hannah Duncan (@hanjan)
Woodwinds: Dave McKeown (@dave-mckeown)
Vocal: Emma Shanley (@emma-shanley)
Music and mix: Bas Kooman

Sometimes

A sad woman asked me
“Can this be changed?”
and hoped I would have
a key in my pocket
to fit the lock of her
despair.

The lonely man asked
“What shall I do?”
as we both sat,
with his chain ankle ghost,
that manacled
freedom.

Sometimes,
we keep our souls
in a locked box
on the window sill
and fear death’s fingers
if it rattles.

Sometimes,
we seek to hear only
clattering dialogue of thought,
clanking down the
one way tracks to
contention.

And sometimes
the truth is hidden in cell-seeds
trapped in shoulder stories,
or the anxious rope tale
of your skipping
stomach.

“What does your body say?”
I want to ask.
The answers
will hold their
breath and wait
for you.

But only in that
rejected, split off
holder, in the
soft sacred
fruiting
body bowl

Will you ever feel
the right question to ask.
The question that
tells you, finally:
it is time
to harvest.

SOMETIMES (with DAVE, HANNAH and EMMA)

Thomas

There's more in life that we do not experience than that we do. 
But hey, you can't have it all.
Sometimes that's for the better.

[Rough English translation]
YOU CAN'T HAVE IT ALL
In the past i didn’t want to miss anything
Was eager to join in all things fun
If I had to choose, I could not decide
I’d rather divided myself in two 

For football, parties, music and friends
a week was really too short
when she fell in love with another
it only really dawned on me

You can’t have it all

Now so many years have passed
I see many people with a cross to bear
Who are suffering or have severly suffered
people without a future, without a home

because of illness, distress, violence and loss
they’re broken, tired out 
for us, my love, I praise the day
for us, my love, I speak of happiness

You can’t have it all

Still, i want my life to be in the fast lane 
Sure, that’s how i’m gonna do it
but without risking life and limb
and with guaranteed pension

You can’t have it all

Soprano sax: @Dave-McKeown
Drums: Matt Snowden
Rest, Music & Lyrics: me
Mix&master 2021

JE MIST MEER DAN JE MEEMAAKT (with Dave McKeown)

“Every person must choose how much truth he can stand”, said Irvin Yalom, American writer and psychiatrist. “Self-awareness is a supreme gift, a treasure as precious as life. This is what makes us human. But it comes with a costly price: the wound of mortality.” Inspired by Yalom’s book ‘Staring at the sun’ British poet HanJan (@hanjan) wrote the poem Ripples.

I wrote music to these words and asked Texan vocalist Faerytale (@faerytale aka Lisa West) to sing them. Lisa never stops to amaze me. With her musical talent, and her warm and compassionate personality. For a reason she writes and sings personal songs for very sick people and people who lost a loved one, to give them a sense of peace and love in their most vulnerable moments.

RIPPLES
When we are dead
And nestled under the ground
Or scattered over favourite seas
And special places
The mountain will say nothing
The trees will not moan
And the river will be moving slowly
For someone else.
All that you know
All the thoughts you have owned
Will pass into nothing.
Only your vacated body
Will provide sacred compost
For those that inherit the earth.
And only those things you created
In the minds of your children,
In the people you touch,
In the art you leave behind,
Will show you have been here
And that you loved.

We are the stones that sink when flung into this still lake.
If we give our living plummeting momentum
Let velocity and passion hurl us forwards
Without restraint
It may be that our ripples will reach from bank to bank
To be felt by those we never touched: 
Through the blaze of our own comet tail light across their heaven.

Ripples

RIPPLES (feat. Faerytale & HanJan)

I am no classical guitar player.
I could however play in the subway,
just because this piece is so much fun to play...
(It's far from flawless.)

More (and better) classical guitar on Soundcloud: 
Derek Cornett, Jens Felger, Stan Leonard, Guy Trepanier and Frank Hiemenz!

Si ela perguntar (by Dilermando Reis 1916-1977)

My good friend @dave-mckeown wrote this little gem and asked me to play along on the guitar. Always a great pleasure, and even more so because it bears my name :-) That B alliterates very nicely, don't you think? Anyway, it's a clarinet duet, a smooth tune at an easy going pace in Gilberto-style, with a cool melody and gorgeous harmonies and – as always – outstanding soulful playing.

Recently Dave has added some great compositions of his own to the arrangements he makes for sax, clarinets and other instruments on https://www.sheetmusicplus.com/publishers/david-mckeown-sheet-music/3006203?aff_id=673683 

This is one of them.
Hope you enjoy!

Sheet music plus

Bossa De Bastião (Dave McKeown/Bas Kooman)

Dutch version of "IF I KNOW YOU", a song by Ian Melvin: @ianmelvin
Many thanks to @milanazilnik for the creation of the wonderful piano track.

This Dutch version is part of a translation project by Ian Melvin to create as many versions of "IF I KNOW YOU" in other languages as possible. 

For all the other translations please visit Ian's group:
soundcloud.com/groups/if-i-know-you-like-i-do

DUTCH LYRICS

ALS IK JOU KEN 
Als ik jou ken, echt goed ken 
Zou je ooit weggaan? 
Had jij die wens? 

Had ik jou minder lief, dan zou moeten 
Waar zou je't zoeken? 
Wat kon ik doen?

Ik voer over grote oceanen 
Ik bedwong de hoogste berg 
En ik bracht dan uit de diepste zee 
Die zwarte parel mee 
Alleen voor jou 
om wie je bent 
als ik je ken

Als je mij kent, echt goed kent 
Zou ik ooit weggaan? 
Had ik die wens?

Had je mij minder lief, dan zou moeten 
Waar zou'k het zoeken? 
Wat kon jij doen?

We bevoeren grote oceanen 
We bedwongen elke berg 
En we brachten uit de diepste zee 
Die zwarte parel mee 
alleen voor jou 
om wie je bent 
als ik je ken 

LITERAL TRANSLATION (out of Dutch)

IF I KNOW YOU 
If I know you, really know 
Would you ever leave? 
Could you wish for this? 
  
If i loved you less, than I should 
Where would you be looking? 
What could I do?

I could navigate large oceans 
I could conquer the highest mountain 
And I brought then out of the deepest sea 
That black pearl 
Only for you 
for who you are 
if I know you

If you know me, really know 
Would I ever leave? 
Could i wish for this?

Did you love me less, than you should 
Where would i be looking? 
What could you do?

We could navigate large oceans 
We could conquer every mountain 
And we brought out the deepest sea 
That black pearl 
only for you 
for who you are 
if I know you

Painting: Stefan Krikl

Als ik jou ken (Collab with Ian Melvin and Milana Zilnik)

i think, almost all parents can relate to this beautiful poem by Hannah Duncan:

The School Trip

The tears that loomed 
All day, have finally spilled.

And over a lost page 
-  A checklist of what she will need 
As she goes away. 
Who is more anxious  
At separation?
 
I am the one sitting up after midnight
 Checking labels on luggage 
And praying over folded clothes 
That she will be ok. 
Slipping notes into the wash bag. 
Pondering which shoes
 To squeeze into the case.

The trigger for the spill 
Something quite different though: 
The fear of another looming separation 
Possibly to be made in defence of the vulnerable. 
That part in me, that part in her. 

The realisation that this life
Just gets more and more complicated. 
And the tangle of relationship
 Can pull you up mountains 
And rip you from the trees. 
That loving another
 Can bring you back down to your knees 
To that bleakest place 
-  Of feeling 8 years old 
And just wanting to find home again.

Please, visit Hannah's cloud as well, lots of beautiful music and lyrics there: https://soundcloud.com/hanjan
I first saw this poem, when Dave McKeown (https://soundcloud.com/dave-mckeown) told me about his collaboration with Hannah for the Poetry Month - he set the spoken word to music in the form of a gorgeous clarinet quartet: https://soundcloud.com/hanjan/national-poetry-month-the

When reading, i wanted to sing these brilliant words and tried to make a song of it.
So glad that Hannah liked it and even wanted to add her vocals and instrumental accents with accordion and concertino. Thank you Hannah!

Painting: Annemarie van Hooff (http://www.annemarievanhooff.nl/)

The Schooltrip (duet with Hannah Duncan)

[Dutch lyrics]
DE GEEST UIT DE FLES
de geest uit de fles
danst door de lucht
loert met een lach
en prikt in je rug

hij draait om je heen
strijkt langs je huid
zucht in je oor
en springt voor je uit           

je verlangt al zo lang
zo lang naar een dans
naar een dans op de tong 
een dans op de tong van de slang

de geest uit de fles
is sterker dan wij
voelt hij de lust
dan maakt hij je vrij

verhoort hij je wens
met hartstocht en zin
dan hoop ik dat hij 
mij aan je bindt

ik verlang al zo lang
zo lang naar een dans
naar een dans op de tong 
een dans op de tong van de slang

Cover picture: Kellepics

De geest uit de fles (The genie from the bottle)

At the beginning of the nineties i was six months in Russia 
and went to a show of singer songwriter Alexander Rosenbaum
at the 9th of May in St. Petersburg - the day the Russians celebrate the victory
over the nazi's in world war II. Never forgot this great song... 
So i thought, today it's the 9th of May, and i record and upload this cover.
It's almost 20 years ago that i spoke Russian for the last time, so the pronunciation 
is probably not completely how it should be :-)
 
[Russian Lyrics - Alexander Rosenbaum]
На ковре из жёлтых листьев
 В платьице простом
 Из подаренного ветром крепдешина 
Танцевала в подворотне осень вальс-бостон. 
Отлетал тёплый день, 
И хрипло пел саксофон.  
И со всей округи люди приходили к нам, 
И со всех окрестных крыш слетались птицы, 
Танцовщице золотой захлопав крыльями... 
Старый дом, как давно звучала музыка там.  

Как часто вижу я сон, 
Мой удивительный сон,
 В котором осень нам танцует вальс-бостон. 
Там листья падают вниз, 
Пластинки крутится диск: 
"Не уходи, побудь со мной, ты мой каприз". 
Как часто вижу я сон, 
Мой удивительный сон, 
В котором осень нам танцует вальс-бостон.  

Опьянев от наслажденья, 
О годах забыв, 
Старый дом, давно влюблённый в свою юность, 
Всеми стенами качался, окна отворив,
 И всем тем, кто в нём жил, Он это чудо дарил.  
А когда затихли звуки в шуме городском 
- Всё имеет свой конец, своё начало, 
- Помолчав, всплакнула осень маленьким дождём... 
Ах, как жаль этот вальс, как хорошо было в нём.  

Как часто вижу я сон, 
Мой удивительный сон, 
В котором осень нам танцует вальс-бостон. 
Там листья падают вниз, 
Пластинки крутится диск:
 "Не уходи, побудь со мной, ты мой каприз". 
Как часто вижу я сон, 
Мой удивительный сон, 
В котором осень нам танцует вальс-бостон.

[translation in Dutch]
AMERIKAANSE WALS
Op een tapijt van gele bladeren, 
 in een eenvoudige jurk van door de wind geschonken crêpe de chine,
danste de herfst in een steegje een Amerikaanse Wals. 
De warme dag liep op zijn einde
En hees klonk een saxofoon. 

Mensen uit de buurt kwamen naar ons,  
En van al de naburige daken vlogen vogels op,  
Met hun vleugels klappend voor de gouden danseres…
Het oude huis, zoals vroeger klonk er muziek. 

Vaak zie ik een droom,  
Mijn verbazingwekkende droom, 
 waarin de herfst voor ons een Amerikaanse Wals danst. 
De bladeren vallen,  
De plaat blijft draaien: 
 "Ga niet weg, blijf bij mij, je bent mijn capriccio." 
Vaak zie ik een droom,  
Mijn verbazingwekkende droom, 
 Waarin de herfst voor ons een Amerikaanse Wals danst. 

In vervoering, zonder besef van tijd,
Danste het oude huis, verliefd op zijn eigen jeugd,
Met al zijn muren, de ramen wijd open     
En schonk dit wonder aan allen die er woonden

Toen de klanken wegstierven in het geruis van de stad  
- alles heeft een begin en een einde - was de herfst even stil 
En werd tot tranen toe geroerd, een kleine regenbui,
Ach, wat jammer van die wals, het voelde zo goed.

Vaak zie ik een droom,  
Mijn verbazingwekkende droom,  
Waarin de herfst voor ons een Amerikaanse Wals danst. 
De bladeren vallen,  
De plaat blijft draaien: 
 "Ga niet weg, blijf bij mij, je bent mijn capriccio." 
Vaak zie ik een droom, 
 Mijn verbazingwekkende droom, 
 Waarin de herfst voor ons een Amerikaanse Wals danst. 


Vals Boston (Alexander Rosenbaum cover)

The shortest lyrics I know that tell a whole story is from the Cuban band leader and composer Cachao and consist of three words: the question "Why?" followed by the answer "Why not!" Because of the infectious swing (why dance? - Why not!) it is pretty brilliant in a simple way. 

The same goes for Mabelé, a song in Lingala from Congolese singer Kevin Mfinka. Those simple (through the whole song repeated) four lines express humbleness, acceptance and gratitude. I think it's a gem and that's why i love to play it.

[Translation]
Earth is my body 
My body is the earth 
One day I'm going under the earth 
You stayed to take care of my kids 

Painting: Kevin Stevenson

Mabelé (Earth

For this song i used one of the most famous poems of J. Slauerhoff (1898-1936). i changed a few old style Dutch words for new. Music by Bas Kooman (2013).

VOOR DE VERRE PRINSES
Wij komen nooit meer saam:
De wereld drong zich tussenbeide.
Soms staan wij beiden ’s nachts aan ’t raam,
Maar andere sterren zien we in andere tijden.
 
Uw land is zo ver van mijn land verwijderd:
Van licht tot verste duisternis—dat ik
Op vleugelen van verlangen rusteloos reizend,
U zou begroeten met mijn stervenssnik.
 
Maar als het waar is dat door grote dromen
Het zwaarst verlangen over wordt gebracht
Tot op de verste ster: dan zal ik komen,
Dan zal ik komen, iedere nacht.

[English translation by Leonie Broekstra-Pauw]

TO THE FAR AWAY PRINCESS
Never again will we reunite:
The world has forced itself in between.
Sometimes we both stand behind the window at night,
But different stars in different times are seen.

Your country is so far away from mine:
From light to the depts of darkness - That I
Traveling restlessly, on wings of desire,
would greet you with my final cry.

However, if it’s true that by great dreams dreamt
Up to the most distant heavenly light
the strongest desire can be sent: then I will come
Then I will come, every night.


Painting (fragment) by Rena Marzouk 

More about SLAUERHOFF
J. Slauerhoff is one of the greatest Dutch poets of the twentieth century. He owes the unique position he occupies in Dutch literature to completely personal themes he carved out in equally personal poetry. Longing for the passionate love for a woman, struck by the tragedy of loneliness, the yearning to be elsewhere or somewhere in the past, the desire for the sea, the disenchantment with present-day life, the awareness of degeneration, all these themes mark him as a late Romantic poet.

On the other hand, the rawness and acrimony of his tone, as well as his split personality, make him a true exponent of his era. In the guise of consistently different characters, either historical or fictive, Slauerhoff aligns with the modernist tradition of Yeats, Pound, Eliot, and Pessoa.

Born and raised in Leeuwarden, capital of the province of Friesland, Slauerhoff studied medicine in Amsterdam. He made his debut in 1923 with the collection Archipel *(Archipelago*), in which almost all the elements present in his later work can already be found. After completing his study, he became a ship’s doctor on Dutch vessels sailing to East Asia. His poor health was repeatedly the cause of broken employment contracts.

Accordingly, he led an itinerant life. ‘Nowhere but in my poems can I dwell,/ Nowhere else could I a shelter find’ are the first lines of one of his most renowned poems (‘Homeless’), which can be regarded as characteristic of his life and work.



Voor de verre prinses (To the far away princess - click for translation)

What's the meaning of human rights when they can be ignored without real consequences? What's the use of laws when they are not enforced? Song about migrant workers in the Netherlands. Where exploiting these people is actually still a lucrative business model. New mix & master 2023.01.21.

[Translation]
PICK THE PICKERS

Pick the pickers 
Pick them where you can 
Pick the pickers 
Get them to our country 

Promise them mountains of gold 
And give them a contract 
That they don't understand 
So you have them in your pocket 
Cram them into an apartment 
Ten men at a time 
Let them pay usury rents 
Fire everyone who complains
It really works, you can see it quickly 
This is a lucrative business model 

Pick the pickers 
Pick them where you can 
Pick the pickers 
Get them to our country 

Drive them to the greenhouses 
Drive them to the fields 
Don't pay all their working hours 
‘Less is more’ when it comes to money 
And if someone is sick 
Or looked too deep into his glass 
Then you give him a fine 
For stains in the mattress 
If some fall out, don't worry 
You will have a new pick in no time 

But one thing you must know 
If someone asks about it 
Hide that all of your business 
Can't tolerate daylight 

So wave away what they say 
With a friendly smile 
As long as the dogs sleep 
There is no one doing anything 
Play nice weather, don't flinch 
The rights of a picker exist 
Only on paper 

Pick the pickers 
Pick them where you can 
Pick the pickers 
Get them to our country 
Bring them to our beautiful country

Song & performance: Bas Kooman
Backing vocals: @HesterKirkels
Cover art: Jan de Waardt (1871-1909)

Pluk de Plukkers

PLUK DE PLUKKERS (mix & master 2023)

Songs in English on https://soundcloud.com/seb-mankoo

Bas Kooman

Popular tracks