Inspiration for this track was a recent cycling trip at Siebenstern (Seven Stars) near my birthplace in Germany. It features analog drums, my Les Paul and Jazz Bass, cello, piano as well as a couple of synths.  

Siebenstern

This CCR cover is dedicated to my old band 'Winnepeg' back in 70s Vredenburg ZA: one of our 'numbers'. It's the classic ballad of a failed musician, so its very fitting! Matt Philps, Mark Liebenberg, Fanie Burger, not sure if you guys survived this far (based on the hard living back then). Rock on, ek sê...      

Lodi

Radio Bantu/Mbaqanga 80s-style piece. Just myself on vocals, guitars, bass, sax an  organ. Drum track by Propellerheads's Carl Carlsson. Afrikaans lyrics: the views of a ZA West coast hermit, the last verse borrowing heavily from Leipoldt's famous poem 'N Handvol Gruis'.  

Weskusklong

Blind Lemon Jefferson/Leadbelly classic re-worked 

Good Night Irene

Featuring my new uke...

Oh, play me a blue song and fade down the light 
I'm sad as a proud man can be sad tonight 
Just let me dream on, oh just let me sway 
While the sweet violins and the saxophones play 
And Miss, you don't know me, but can't we pretend 
That we care for each other, 'til the band reach the end

One step for aching 
Two steps for breaking 
Waltzing's for dreamers 
And the losers in love 
One step for sighing and 
Two steps for crying 
Waltzing's for dreamers 
And the losers in love

They say love's for gamblers, the pendulum swings 
I bet hard on love and I lost everything 
So don't send me home now, put a shot in my arm 
And we'll drink out old memories and well drink in the dawn 
And Mr. Bandleader, wont you play one more time 
I've good folding money in this pocket of mine.

(This is a cover song. Music and lyrics: Richard Thomson)

Waltzing For Dreamers

Man Needs A Maid

Hell above and Heaven below
All the trees are gone
Rain makes such a lovely sound
To those who are six feet under ground
The leaves will bury every year
And no one knows I’m gone
Live me golden tell me dark
Hide from Graveyard John
The moon is bright here every night
And I sit here &amp; bathe in it's light
The leaves will bury every year
And no one knows I’m gone



No One Knows I'm Gone

A David Kramer Cover

This is the story of Piet, a labourer from the farm Ratelrug in Namaqwaland who is on his way -on foot- to Kakamas (near Namibia) via the Olifants mountains. He hopes to 'find a women' there and bring her back home. Whether he is driven purely by his sexual longings, the demands of convention or if he is urged on by a deeper quest for inner fulfilment, via the feminine within him, I'll leave to your imagination... Perhaps it's a blend of all three?

Piet speaks the gutteral Afrikaans of decendants of the Khoisan and just like his ancestors he's able to transverse vast distances on foot. Such lone travellers are a common sight on the remote roads of South Africa, carrying perhaps a suitcase on the head, strumming a tincan guitar, one cannot help marvel how they came to be out THERE, in the middle of the Great Karoo, 100s of miles from the nearest town! 

So here is Piet one late winter afternoon somewhat unsure of his directions during this endless journey through the desert. Some redneck farm boys blaze by in a V8 truck, screech to a halt. They sneer and taunt him, pointing in 3 directions at once, when Piet asks for directions to the Olfifants mountains. They leave as night falls. Like every night Piet collects fragrant branches of the abundant Snakebush for a bed. He hunkers down on the ground, pondering the 'cold stone blanketed' mountains. Darkness soon engulfs him. It's like being 'in a room without candles'. 

He sings to himself in the vast, dark silence: "I've come so far, but who can tell me where love can be found?"

Piet Soek Vrou

Ron Sexsmith cover featuring my son Mark on vocal. All instrument parts and arrangement by myself:
Martin D-15 Acoustic
Fender Telecaster
Fender Jazz  Bass
Roland HD1 Drums
Vocal Mic: Rode NT2A)
Mixed and mastered in my home studio with Presonus Studio One

Secret Heart

This comes off Waits's Orphans, Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards. Think twice about stepping through the gilded door, chasing the dragon...etc

Fannin Street

I spent most of my teenage years in the country town Vredenburg on South Africa's West Coast. In this semi-biographical song I slip into the role of a redneck cowboy. A mawkish curb-crawling bigot who listens to Jim Reeves on his 8 track cassette deck and calls his 'bokkie' from the tikkiebox.

It's the Apartheid era. The riot police brutally suppresses all dissent. While the world seems wholesome and clean on the surface, there is an underlying sense of menace:

I`m driving through this facebrick town
My radio up and window is down
I`m listening to the late Jim Reeves
In my nylon jersey with the raglan sleeves
This town, this town is like a two cent piece
It`s got a coat of arms, it`s got a wildebeest
Like a clean white shirt with gold cufflinks
It looks quite clean, but the armpits stink

Ek vra jou mos (3x) so nice
Hoekom, blaf daai honde daar by die hekke van paradise?
(I ask you so nice, why do the dogs bark at the gates of paradise?)

Got a twin-carb V8 in this jammy that I drive
You can take me for a dice, ag you won`t survive
But it needs new tyres and it needs new shocks
And I need to phone my bokkie
So I phone her from a tickiebox
She`s got the cutest little pair of legs
She shaves them clean till they look like ostrich eggs
And at night, at night she takes her teddy bears to bed
But I wonder why she paints her toenails red
(Chorus)

Ja, this is where I spent my teens
It's a dirty little town that the council cleans
It's got orange lights
They prick the dark and the streets are wide
There`s always room to park
(Chorus)

(Original David Kramer)

Hekke Van Paradise

I'm a one man band playing/recording in a bedroom studio in Perth, Western Australia. What I lack in musical ability I make up in the love of it .

In bygone times I've variously busked and serenaded (cacofonixed?) my way around the place. I've also been in a handful dubious bands. You know the story: drummers that couldn't keep time, an old radio serving as the guitar amp and a bassist (with the squeaky Neil Young falsetto) - a little Hitler, who was actually in it 'only for the chicks'. Back then, being able to make demo in a studio was a remote idea.

I'm into lots of things. From Baroque cantatas to polkadot ska. The profound as well as the banal. Roots, chocolate, the moan, the stretch of the rack...



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