Plenty of shopping available, even well past 6PM.

The night brings out the stars- like Amadou & Mariam who leave me slightly underwhelmed with their big-ass Afro-sound.

CD-signing sessions are fun too, like here with the indomitable Imelda May who was fantastic.

The last strains of a long, warm, great day- Indian flautist Rajendra Prasanna goes all Ian Anderson on our ass.

Yasar Akpence Harem'De- a masterful Turkish percussion ensemble. Some may have found it too loud though.

The women of the Pitjitjantjara-tribe gathered in story and song.

The inimitable Bob Brozman and his ensemble. A lesson in slide 'n hula that leaves everyone breathless.

Strolling in the big park is great by itself- hearing the bloody motherfucking Martha Wainwright is that too.

WOMADelaide 2011- Day 2

Day 2










Searching for some shade in 32 degree heat. A big Moreton Bay figtree helps a lot.

Some strange characters stroll around the park too. Poultry or French act Le Phun bringing the seminal people of Les Gumes (French for vegetables) to life. Quietly comical.

Canadian act ScrapArts Metal bring an energetic percussional act onstage with drums all made of scrap wood, metals and plastic.

Switching gears- from the eclectic folk/gipsy/cabaret-act 17 Hippes from Berlin to the serene classical harp of Marshall McGuire in one moment.

Cooking lesson, courtesy of the Creole Choir Of Cuba....traditional recipes and song dished up in the kitchen.

Wildbirds & Peacedrums With Voices- from Gothenburg- atmospheric art pop at its best.

DJ Norman Jay MBE brings reggae, ska, dub and dance at the very end of night

WOMADelaide 2011- a photo diary

Day 1









From top to bottom:

Opening welcoming ceremony by the local Aboriginal tribe, the official opening of the festival.

Flags of the APY-lands- Tjurkurpa Mulapa Tjukarita- Sky flags depicting a Dreamtime-story from the Pitjintjantara-people of Central Australia

Rango- from Egypt and the Sudan- eclectic and highly entertaining

A workshop by Ukrainian outfit Dakhabrakha. Eastern European chants with a slightly Gothic vibe at times.

The decoration in the huge trees in the wonderful Botanic Gardens of Adelaide.

Horace Andy & Dub Asante. Massive mon!

WOMADelaide 2010 part 4

Monday (the final day)


It's for the first time that WOMAD's been going for 4 days so this will be a new experience for tired limbs and a brain still trying to digest the first three days of amazing impressions..
The opening workshop Women's Voices is in celebration of today's International Women Day and features some of the singers at the festival, including Mariem Hassan, Marina Abad of Ojos De Brujo and Danielle Caurana (Mama Kin)...hosted by a radio-presenter it looks a bit dysfunctional as the interpreters are simply invited to sing a song one at a time- much later when there's an interactive piece performed on percussion, led by Hassan and two of her band members there's finally a feeling what this workshop was meant to be. The presenter points correctly out that these women probably never will share a stage again; had there been a little planning there would have been an unique cross-cultural event taking place amongst these fine artists. An opportunity missed.

In the visual and musical-art department you'll find Strange Fruit or the art of bell ringing on swaypoles. Perched atop 4 metre high flexible poles of original design, five members of the troupe deliver a sublime performance, bending and swaying in the air, captivating and engaging the audience, using mallets to ring bells and gongs attached to poles on a variety of distances away from the ringers who have to stretch and sway to reach them...it's mesmerising to see how the group reaches the bells in time with the music played on two xylophones situated on the ground below. Worthy of the mighty Cirque.

Tim Finn needs no introduction....this Kiwi's like an honorary Aussie and he brings the crowd many classics from the Split Enz/Crowded House-era with a good helping of some of his solo-material too. The crowd's swept away in the feelgood-tunes the same way the wind sweeps with gale force through the ancient trees in the Gardens....

An interesting combo follows....Japanese blues-slide guitarist George Kamikawa teams up with formidable shamisen-player Noriko Tadano. Both artists recently moved from their native Japan to live in Australia and their English communication with the audience is funny and entertaining...and they cap it off with some great interplay. The shamisen is a Japanese version of the banjo only with fewer strings and less notes to play with- it requires quite some improvisational skill from Tadano to play solos which she does incredibly well. Kamikawa is an excellent slide-player, complete with harmonica he rocks the crowd with classics like Shake Your Money Maker and his own songs like the delicately titled Sake Blues. The marriage gets really interesting when Tadano interprets classical Japanese music in this blues-style, creating a formidable hybrid that proves the adaptability of blues in many cultures. Highly entertaining and very danceable, rightly a hit with the ever increasing crowd at the stage.

One of the top attractions for the many young people in the crowd without doubt is Australian Xavier Rudd. A favorite with the many attending 'surfies' who embrace his Jack Johnson-like laid-back pop, combined with his skills on the didgeridoo and a tight band backing him up, the latter including bassist Tio Moloantoa and drummer Andile Nqubezelo of the late Lucky Dube’s band. There's a more percussive edge to his music as in relation to his studio albums which go well with the crowd, who swoon at everything he does...the boy can't do no wrong. Rudd has grown into a mighty performer, a social activist like compatriot John Butler and owning a great musical versatility that'll see him be one of Australia's biggest export products in the near future.

The highs Rudd reaches in his gig are tough to match but La Compagnie Transe Express manages that in a fascinating way....a seven man French drum band dressed up as Napoleon in green costumes sets out through the crowd, clowning about before returning back stage...and before the crowd has time to think that the act is over, up comes a crane who hoists the full ensemble high into the air where the act continues! Complete with one member who sits highest and performs a daring trapeze act without net this company has every neck craned to the sky in wonder. Definitely something completely different...

One of the main interesting parts of the last day is the All Star Jam- one of the international guests is being asked to host an hour of improvisational music with the help of a selection of musicians performing at the festival- this year's conductor is Ross Daly. Usually it works out like a loose-limbed, mostly percussion-based affair where spontaneous interplay happens between several artists- this year is quite different as Daly has a complete string band complete, consisting of his band, the Azerbaijani performers with singer Gochar Askarov, Finnish duo Lepisto and Lehto, members of the Hungarian gypsy-fusion band Besh O Drom and Japanese shamisen-player Noriko Tadano. All people on stage are involved in playing set pieces and especially the Azerbaijani and Greeks mesh well. There's moments of brilliance when singers Mariem Hassan and Askarov come onstage to perform (improvise) over the music and the crossover-culture reaches it high point when the chilly Finn-opus Helsinki (from Pekka Lehto) gets a warm bath of strings courtesy of the Daly-led ensemble. An almighty band-performance, rather unique in the All Star-canon and given the short time of preparation a massive effort.

Then, finally, the moment that many of the visitors have waited for. In front of the big stage about 4000 people sit on the ground, awaiting breathlessly one of the true legends of music. Accompanied by his daughter Anoushka Ravi Shankar makes his appearance. Being led to the stage by one of his apprentices the great man has come to perform. He cannot sit crosslegged which is customary for Indian classical players but sits at the front of the mini-stage, his thin legs on the ground...
This is not a concert, this is a moment in time. Soon this man will be 90 years old. He has come to say farewell to this nation in truly the best way possible- playing the sitar for us. He calls the gathering a 'mini Woodstock' and announces his first piece- the classic Raga Jog, a delicate piece. His fingers start off searching, a bit trembling as his trademark bending of the notes take a while to gestate but when the pace picks up slowly, you realise he has never lost any of his skill. Anoushka adds little textures to Ravi's melodies and tabla-player Tanmoy Bose and Ravichandra Kulur on flute back the duo up with spirited play....the silence amongst the crowd is something to behold with only the sweet sounds from the sitar filling the night sky. I just get goosebumps watching the man play.
If the first piece was like a warm-up, the second raga is one for the ages...he announces it as a greatest hits-package in which he wants to fight a duel with his daughter! It's a 25-minute fearless piece of music where Ravi not only wants to showcase his best but he challenges his daughter through 'call and answer'-parts to fill in the missing pieces which she does without fail. There are no winners except the audience. The fun father and daughter have is clear for everyone to see with the master laughing and enjoying himself, Anoushka clearly relishing the moment. It's beyond moving and when the concert finishes and the crowd rises to their feet to a rapturous applause there's a massive tinge of sadness going through me, having perhaps watched this great performer for the last time but that feeling is royally offset by the gratitude for being able to be there at this moment.

And just when you think you have nothing to be amazed about, in the middle of a dark cluster of trees awaits a new surprise. Ray Lee's Siren is an installation of 29 large metal tripods, up to 3m tall, with rotating arms that spin around, powered by electric motors. Hand built electronic tone generators power loudspeakers are set at the end of each arm creating an extraordinary sonic texture of pulsing electronic drones. Small LED’s at the end of the arms trace circles of light as the arms rapidly rotate creating a compelling visual image which becomes quite hypnotic when the two men running the installation have got all arms spinning and the tones set to their liking...when the surrounding floodlights are switched off you're in an ambient forest with flying red lights, moving around in various speeds and accompanied by an ambient soundtrack that constantly shifts as the various drones are being added in time-shifting intervals to the mix. It's a wonderful experience, one that closes off this festival on a remarkable introverted, beautiful note.


p&c maarts 2010.

WOMADelaide 2010 part 3

Sunday

A gentle start to the day as Ross Daly leads his ensemble to the stage performing for the thousand or so bleary-eyed gathered. The Crete master has been instrumental in combining the tradition and heritage of the Greek islands with various other Mediterranean sources. He plays a long suite called The Circle At The Crossroads which is mostly upbeat and Daly's skill on the lyra is matched by that of his three-piece band including an Iranian percussionist.

There's also plenty of workshops happening at the same time. The first one being that of Australian musician David Bridie who talks of his band Not Drowning Waving and their groundbreaking album Tabaran- the first Australian album to be collaborating with musicians from Papua New Guinea. Bridie is a passionate advocate of Melanesian music and he's slightly critical of the WOMAD-organisation not programming more music from the rich, varied cultures 'just outside our doorstep'. He also is a political advocate for the freedom of West Papua and in the Not Drowning Waving-song Blackwater he play with Airi Ingram he depicts the Indonesian military's shameful exploitation and terror campaign it holds in the nation. Next to his own material Bridie introduces two Papuan artists who beautifully perform several native songs, illustrating Bridie's point about the wealth of talent just across Australia's border.
Another workshop I visit is that of the Japanese drummers of Yamato who put all their percussion equipment out on the lawn and invite the audience to have a bash...shamelessly I attack the biggest mofos of the lot and have to concede that you have to have a very good condition to perform a show like they do....
It's great to canter along the many stalls and have chats with people about the various good causes they represent- it's more than just appealing to your conscience, it's a gentle reminder that we are merely custodians of a planet in pain...

Anyway...I check out several of the roving acts, including the Slack Taxi Bouncers and De Stijle Want...keeping folk amused with their comical skits wandering through the fields. Then it's back to the music as local Adelaide band Monkey Puzzle Tree take the stage for plenty of friends and family- their ambient-rock with violin doesn't really fuse my light so it's off to see Cuarteto Patria holding a son-workshop on the small stage. With one member of the band the only one being able to speak English their tale of Cuban music goes slowly and it's getting even more confusing when band members go into discussion amongst themselves about the importance of certain Cuban music styles and instruments...but belatedly the session gets rescued when guitarist Humberto Ochoa sings a lovely bolero-song, getting such crowd approval so he sings a couple more...perhaps not the workshop the band had planned but some good music emanating from it.

Vulgargrad brings us the ballads, blues and gutterfolk from the dark alleys and gutters from Moscow, wrap it up into oompah-punk with a Russian dash of wodka-fuelled fun and a large crowd discover another new favourite band. The seven-piece band including brass and balalaika is on song, lead singer Jacek Koman looks like a cross between Serge Gainsbourg and Philippe Noiret and sings with a raspy baritone in Russian about prisons, revenge and partying- transforming Russian lullabies to songs like A Pissup Starts With One Bottle gives you an idea of their evil intentions. The Russian Pogues? As rollicking as MacGowan's mob they are for sure and the hour really flies by in a hurry.

Another odd duck in the pond- The Armada led by former Tea Party-frontman Jeff Martin rocks up to the main stage. In this band Martin can act out his love for Led Zeppelin and marry that sound with influences from the Arabian and Middle-Eastern world. I'm not exactly waiting for the heavy-handed rock he brings, the Armada-material is a bit bland, let alone his Led Zeppelin-medley but when he pays tribute to Dead Can Dance admirably by performing Rakim his west does meet east the best.

Speaking of odd- Jane Siberry has got a very coloured career which has brought her from chanteuse to avant-garde performer and, based on her show here, even comedienne. This one-hour woman show consists of a full rendition of her latest album With What Shall I Keep Warm? on which she accompanies herself on guitar or piano and, in some cases, uses backing tracks via a MP3-player. It's like watching Laurie Anderson on speed, the spoken word-bits connecting songs, fragmented thoughts and occurrences are interconnected via the main storyline which basically is Siberry walking in a street. The show is more hit than miss, mostly because Siberry is such a charming raconteur, even if the tale gets a bit maudlin she shifts into a song and her voice, slightly hoarser than in her early material is still majestic. She impresses most with a tribute to her mother in the beautiful ballad Mama Hereby. Just as quick as the narrative goes, the show is over. Very interesting, to say the least. Afterwards I connect with Siberry, getting my CD signed and ask her if this is her United States I-IV....she laughs and says it's more like her Raw Power.

If there's one international musical style that does well everywhere you go it's reggae- there's no shortage of top reaggae acts performing here (next to the Skatalites there's also Dub Colossus from Ethiopia). Tonight it's Australian band Fyah Walk's turn to keep the ganja ablaze. It sounds all good but it all gets a bit samey for me, which is something that happens a lot with reggae for me....

With darkness now surrounding us it's time to seek out the action (after all, Sunday night is allright for dancin') and Babylon Circus is just the band to do it. This young French skapunkfolkband whip up the biggest pogo so far of the festival, infusing their 10-piece big band cabaret with influences from Eastern Europe, chanson and African riddims and it's that diversity that keeps the act from getting boring. Just like the Amigos yesterday afternoon it's the kids going off at the generally high octane tracks but where the Venezuelans lost themselves in too many jams the French keep the tracks concise and the crowd constantly involved. The highlight of the day simply on the basis of audience participation and entertainment skill of the band- don't miss them when they play in your neighborhood.

After that amazing high it's difficult for Ojos De Brujo to follow suit- their more intricate mix of flamenco and Afro-Cuban rhythms takes a little while to get going, mostly because they employ a dancer in the opening number which is a slower track. The band obviously is not out on providing the crowd with its biggest common denominator but wants them to take notice of the full Ojos-experience which not always flies off at 180mpH. But when the band hit their straps, especially when they introduce hip hop, rumba and eastern influences to their distinctive Spanish sound the spark hits. Led by formidable singer Marina Abad the band thrills people looking for genuine crossover with an original twist. Added bonus is the use of animation on the big overhanging sails of the number one-stage to emphasize the socio-political context in some of their songs. .

And then it's time to shift the gears right back as Dean & Britta on a small stage present the live soundtrack to the movie "13 Most Beautiful Songs From Andy Warhol's Screen Tests"...on a big screen in black and white the faces of Factory-luminaries like Lou Reed, Nico, Susan Bottomly, International Velvet, Dennis Hopper, Edie Sedgwick, Ingrid Superstar, Billy Name an Freddy Herko form the inspiration for the songs played live by Wareham, Phillips and friends. It's like hearing Velvet Underground B-sides, at times as sharp as Lou's solo-material a la New York, mostly moping, close to shoegazing but at times also burlesque (Mary Woronow). It's interesting enough to watch but is this the festival for it? For contrast in musical styles this performance deserves top marks but the (seated) outdoor venue perhaps is not the most intimate way to take the memory of some of the most tragic figures in the American entertainment industry in....but as a Velvets-fan I enjoy reveling in the melancholic moods.

The weather has been fresh all day, with rain threatening to fall but, like Kevin Rudd's government, not delivering...

WOMADelaide 2010 part 2

Saturday

The punters have all til mid day to revive their aching carcasses before the show starts for the next installment. I feel last nights' cold in my bones and the weather forecast is not too bright so I brace myself...

The quirky pop of Australia's Mama Kin is good to start the day- led by the bouncy Danielle Caruana the band charms the crowd with their soulful rythm & blues-infused music and what they lack in depth, they make up in effort.
The first real revelation of the day appears when Mariem Hassan takes to stage 3, a magnificent voice from the Western Sahara desert. A tall, bony figure dressed in colorful Muslim traditional garb, she powerfully brings her songs accompanied by a small band of guitarists and percussionists. She sings in her native tongue songs that are deemed too politically sensitive for her to return to her native country (she's been exiled for 2 years now), mixing the traditional chant up with the type of desert blues currently being so gratefully lapped up by the masses these days, colouring the sound with a touch of pop and reggae. Definitely recommended for the people raving about Tinariwen.
It's hard to see what Dean & Britta have to do at a world music festival until you realise that America represent the world too....since Australia flood the festival with some of their popular pop-acts too so should the US. This band-gig is a tune-up to two shows the pair (joined by a keyboard-player and a drummer) will do later, a tribute to Andy Warhol and playing the music they composed for a DVD containing several of the pop-art's director screentests for Factory-mainstays like Nico, International Velvet, Edie Sedgewick and Lou Reed...the latter's influence on Dean Wareham is striking as bot musically and vocally the performance is reminiscent of the mellower, spacey moments of Velvet Underground. Poor sound lets the band down for most of the time and the melancholic sounds (infused with a Galaxie 500- and a Luna-song) don't quite get the appreciation of the crowd who want a more happy experience out of this- arch miserablist Wareham not caving in.
The contrast with Los Amigos Invisibles could not be more striking- the sextet mixes up Cerrone-like disco, latin rhythms and psychedelic rock to a tasty salsa that has the crowd jumping around in no time. The Venezolan band has been around for over 15 years, has a tight rhythm section and brass and professionally plays the crowd, however, it is not until the keyboard player removes his shirt and starts to freak out like a demented Dr. Teeth behind his instrument the flame really catches the fuel. The hour flies by, the dancers knackered after another hard work-out, the band garnering an appreciative new fan base.

The clouds start to gather pace and the wind picks up dramatically during the last gig so when I make my way to the small stage 6 to see Mamadou Diabate there's a lot of people putting on raincoats to shield themselves from what seems the inevitable downpour. On the stage the Malinean kora-great has no trouble warming up the seated crowd with some inspired play- where his fellow countryman and kora-legend Toumani two years ago wrapped in the audience with his classical, more wandering approach of play of the 21 strings, Mamadou chooses to play repetitive motifs creating a hypnotic atmosphere, making the listener forget about the pouring rain around him. Diabate has a busy schedule as he also plays in a trio named Djan Djan this weekend- here he showcases his solo-virtuosity. Rightfully he won a Grammy Award this year for the excellent Douga Mansa-album. A superb gig.

It's a shame that now the rain decides to plunge down as this forces a lot of people to leave the area- many parents take their children for some shelter outside of the Gardens and since a few stages and outdoor performers don't have a roof above their heads it forces them to cancel several shows. Conversely, several in'tent'-performances draw large crows, like the Taste The World-session with Mariem Hassan. The music on the main stages continue and, when around 6pm the rain dies down, the crowds have thinned out but many people return later on this evening. The main drawcard at that time is Aussie superstar Xavier Rudd who has no problem getting his devoted young crowd to their knees with his didgeridoo-infused Ben Harper-pop.
I opt to check out something Scandinavian instead- on a small stage double-bassist Pekka Lehti and accordeonist Markku Lepisto bring their improvisational compositions to life. Delving in the world of jazz, folklore and avant-garde the duo impress with their prowess and storytelling, albeit that the latter goes fairly slowly because Pekka's English is studied- it takes the speed right out of the performance. Most of their music are hommages to their native country Finland and Helsinki in specific, the city where both men at one stage lived. The music works as a film score with at time bright, vividly coloured music (especially when Markku plays solo) or a meandering, thoughtful piece like Dawn is introspective and gorgeous.

Quick intermezzo to grab some food and drink and there lies the only rub of the festival- it is bloody expensive- a schooner (big plastic glass) of beer is six dollars and a plate of food you can't get for under a tenner...rest assured that it's real 'world' food bought in large frozen quantities, freshly defrosted and ready-made served in Indian and vegetarian tents...
Fortunately the music is fresh...

Frank Yamma may still be an unknown Aboriginal singer/songwriter for many but in the wake of the incredible success of Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu locally but also internationally you may hope there's a reawakened interest in our own singers...Yamma is one of the current crop of talented singers who sings alternately in English and his own language of the Pitjintjantjara. He has a gravelly voice and comparisons with Tom waits aren't uncommon, yet his direct lyricism and his acoustic guitar picking are as clear as day. His band consists of members of famed Australian music group My Friend The Chocolate Cake and they add piano, cello and percussion to the gentle songs that have a raw edge courtesy of the grit in the lyrics, depicting some of the plight but also memories of home and the odd lovesong. In true Aboriginal-musical sense there's a lot of repetition in the verses which means the songs go on a fraction too long at times but the small crowd give the big man a warm appreciative heads up.

The Bamboos are the providers of the first upbeat session of the Saturday night as they funk it up on the small stage. Featuring vocalist Kylie Auldist they have an easy hometown victory as they deal their mix of soul, acid jazz, hip hop and straight-laced funk to a shivering crowd, looking to recover from the (disappearing) rain and early night chill.
for the less dance-orientated crowd there's the combination of slide-blues guitarist Jeff Lang, Malinean kora-legend Mamadou Diabate and tabla-player Bobby Singh a.k.a Djan Djan. It is like dueling banjos between the lute and the guitar with the classic Indian percussion playing metronome. The little jam sessions that often result in soloing between Diabate and Lang gel well but it's not until the end the fireworks really start to go off. The result- a fair draw between the two string artists and a joyful experience for the listener.

Last up is the gentle son-and guajirasound of one time- Buena Vista Social Club-member Eliades Ochoa and his Cuarteto Patria. The Man In Black of Cuban music is well in his sixties but his vocal cords still sound young and supple. The one gripe you can have about this concert is that since the Cuban styles in which is band excels is very much organised in structure (the call 'n response-chants and the rhythm) a lot of tracks sound very much alike but the quality of the music is sublime. Cuarteto Patria is one of the top orchestras from Cuba at the moment, Ochoa delivers his trademark tres-guitarplay with flair and we all dance the salsa Cubana...

After checking out DJ Gilles Peterson who delivers a set filled with classic Latin and African beats for the hardy kids out there who want to keep on grooving, it's time to check out the inside of my eyes.....

WOMADelaide 2010

WOMADelaide, Royal Botanic Gardens, Adelaide Australia March 5-8.

People who visit this festival invariably will say this; that WOMADelaide is the best festival in Australia. It is not hard to see why. Over the course of four days (first time as it usually is three day event) people will be experiencing a smorgasbord of musical delights from all over the world, where rhythms are diverse and the invitation to listen to something outside your comfort zone is encouraged.

Most importantly it is the relaxed atmosphere and wonderful environment; the festival is being held in the beautiful Botanical Gardens, where ancient trees guard the 7 stages and are being dressed up in lights; combined with the many flags waving gives it almost a Cirque Du Soleil-like environment, enhanced by some of the roving mostly clownesque acts the wanderer can encounter everywhere. WOMADelaide is people-friendly- even when there's over 80.000 people visiting the atmosphere is not rushed or hyped-up as with many rock-festivals, it is family-friendly as the many playing children who have plenty of activities for themselves will testify and as there is a large emphasis on charitable causes, healthy (world-)food and hippie-like clothing- and accessories-stalls next to the music, there's a bit of a peace 'n love-buzz happening too. Add to that the many opportunities to meet the artists, whether through workshops on the smaller stages, as part o the Taste The World-cooking workshops or CD-signing sessions right after the gigs. For me in the past it was wonderful to meet with great musicians like Billy Cobham, Toumani Diabate, Ozomatli, Orchestre Baobab, the Mahotella Queens and the late great Miriam Makeba.
There's rows of food and drink stalls, shops with mostly clothing, fashion accessories and musical instruments and one CD-shop, a large group of tents for charities, a kidzone and several alternative health-tents offering everything from massages, healing to readings. It is a massive enterprise.

The festival starts every Friday night with a traditional welcome from the local Aboriginal-tribe the Kaurna whose land we are visiting this weekend. The opening act for this year is the Japanese drumming tribe Yamato, a hyperactive set of 3 men and two women attackin the mighty daiko-drums with a mix of power, precision and humour- a good, upbeat way to start.
Straight from that moment there are several podiums at once offering musical treasure so it's pick 'n choose- fortunately most acts will appear on other times as well so you won't have to despair if you end up missing something. There's one main stage, two slightly smaller stages on either side of stage 1 who kick into action as soon as the main stage dies down and a variety of smaller stages spread across the park.

After the drumfest I decide to visit Calexico on a side-stage. Their Mexicana-flavoured pop works a treat on mostly the younger crowd and it's interesting that the more Tijuana-tinted tunes garner the most response. The sound let's them down a bit as the brass is very muted in the mix but at the end, when the band serves up a track norteno-style the crowd gets straight into it but the party ends right afterwards. Pity, but they have one more opportunity the next day to impress fully.

Many of the greats in world music are invited and this year it's an honour to see Mahmoud Ahmed bring his Ethiopiques to Adelaide. The 68-year old showman is accompanied by a group of tight-knit young French/UK-musicians who bring his complex yet irresistible rhythms to the fore. Ahmed is indomitable, his voice clear as a clarion and he delights the crowd in making impromptu dance-moves. The music is sublime and even if the rhythm is not easy to follow, Ahmed's directions make sure the people get the right beat; converting the seemingly dominant 3/4-beat into a 2/2-beat like they do is like one of those 3D-pictures unfolding in front of you. Even when the first rain of the festival drops on us (warmly welcomed by Ahmed even who probably knows how valuable pluvius is in Africa), no one stops to grab a raincoat, the dancing continues non-stop. Brilliant.

Representing the vibrant Micronesian-scene is Grrla Step who bring us an interesting crossover crash course- DJ Dexter (ex-Avalanches) teams up with renowned Papuan percussionist Airi Ingram for a mix of massive beats, dubstep and traditional Papuan log-drumming- it sets the backdrop for and intriguing dance-battle between two indigenous Papuan dancers and 4 so-called krumpers, an American 'self-expressing' streetdance style. The object is to highlight the similarities between ancient culture and modern dance- it works real well on this stage and has the younger part of the crowd bounce like rubber balls to the massive bloated beats from the stage.

And then it's back to tradition as the Skatalites bring their happy tunes form the main stage. Being a massive breeding ground for many of Jamaica's top ska-and reggae talent (Jackie Mittoo, Jerry Hinds, Don Drummond and Tommy McCook, among others stood at its foundation about 47 (!) years ago) means there's a lot of personal changes; the only original member in this line-up left is saxophonist Lester Sterling who leads his charges throug a rollicking set of classics like Guns Of Navarone, James Bond and Silver Dollar...one could be critical about how the consistent ska-tempi dominate the gig, turning the thing a bit one-dimensional but here's a legendary band doing what it has been doing for generations.

The best part of the program is how you can shift gears from one gig to another. So, on the last stretch of a fresh Friday night usually the last gi of the night is a mostly reflective one- I've seen many Indian masters and artists like Kronos Quartet playing these slots and, under the magnificent constellations above it is a treat to listen to their music. This year it's the turn of Azerbaijani master Gochag Askarov to bring his classically trained voice to the fore and he does so phenomenally. With his Sharif-like looks and beautiful tenor-like voice he manages to transcend the lengthy songs which are reminiscent of the difficult Iranian/Pakistani-classical music into hypnotic chants- his 4-piece band is excellently supporting him throughout and the people who persist are being treated to a high-class musical experience. And even if the stars tonight are obscured by clouds there's an uninterrupted view upon heaven tonight. What a finish to a great starting set.

Day three. I SMS Goosebump in the morning to confirm the meet-up with Spaceman- the initial plan was to get to the pub around noon and have a couple before heading off to the grounds- I'm being greeted back on my mobile with the message 'Aaaaaahh!'
OK, so 9am is too early- the ales and lagers did go down pretty well last night. Since Space won't be at the grounds before 2pm I decide to head out early and see what's around.
Poor Susana Baca has the unenvious task to wake everyone up in the beat-down heat but she does it with flair. I decide to look at Tecoma on the smaller stage 4- this is a bit of a weird duck- fourpiece band fronted by a young female songwriter who dictates the sound- she's a bit like Beck in how she cuts up a rootsy bluues/country amalgam with some dancebeats, soundtrack-imagery (Morriconish) and a healthy dose of tongue-in-cheek pop sense. From Australia. Not quite my style but interesting for sure- the few in attendance thought so.

Another Australian band, Sydney's Watussi fire up proceedings on stage 2- it's a band like last years' participants San Lazaro or Blue King Brown who, formed by migrants from South America take the latin-form to modern heights. It's great to see the response to this music, simply because it reflects the heritage of great Latin-artists like Johnny Pacheco, Roberto Roena, Eddie Palmieri, Ray Barretto...they could have easily recorded an album for Fania. The self-written pieces at times lack a bit of oomph but showcase in volumes that this band's got what it takes to headline- plenty of 'gusto' and salsa picante to entice the heatstruck mob into a sweating frenzy.

Time creeps up already and blimey, if it ain't Space ambling towards my way in front of the mainstage, awaiting eagerly Toumani Diabate's Symmetric Orchestra. Space is a quite down-to-earth chap who doesn't fuss around. He's definitely in the mood for some music and what better way then through Mali's finest...



Toumani Diabate (left)...the Hendrix of the kora.



...What you lookin' at? The Symmetric Orchestra gets ugly.

The Symmetric Orchestra is a ten-piece band around the famous kora-player but as much as Diabate's the namegiver of the band, he remains fairly anonymous as it is the band (dressed in traditional tribal robes) that take centre stage. Especially the bald singer Kasse Made Diabate takes up the lead role- his irresistible energy combined with the joyful demeanor of his bandmates lead to a dancefest in which only 4 songs are performed in total- the extended version of Salsa takes about 15 minutes. Complete with dancers including the huddle plucked from the crowd and little impromptu-solos from the mad djembe-player whose ugly face-expressions lighted up the people there was plenty there to keep the attention- the atmosphere was electric. Highlight of the festival for mine.

Three days later I watch the same band turn up an amazing performance at the Sydney Opera House where Diabate's kora is more the highlight of the show- a solo-performance during this gig was one of the most exhilarating things I was privileged to watch- I cannot enough recommend his solo-CD the Mande Variations. Truly an artist who has brought us all the best of Mali-music (not African music, as he taught us, it's music from the Mande-Empire) not only in rhythm but also in classical acoustic sense. What an artist.



Goosebump wonders whether his Antipodean Assessment-mix was slightly harshly judged recently by dolomite...

After this spectacular gig the three of us retreated to initially watch the Billy Cobham Septet- with saxophonist Ernie Watts, the Thunder From Down Under, Mr. Frank Gambale on guitar,trombonist Marshall Gilkes, trumpeter Guy Barker, pianist Jukkis Uotila and bassist Phillipe Chayeb under the guidance of the drum great treat the audience to some uncut jazzrock. Even though he plays classics like Moon Germs, the lure of beer and shade is too big.
We retreat close to the beer tent to catch up. First off, Goosebump surprises both Space and I with two of his homemade mixes- I will surely now have to follow suit! After extensively discussing the best part of all you mob out there it's time for food- I decide on some Jamaican goat for dinner (spicy!). The afternoon passes slowly by and while the Samba Parade (hosted by a Brazilian dance school plus scores of children who have made their own costumes at the Kidzone for the last couple of hours) snakes under heavy samba music through the crowd it's time to see what's on for tonight.



Quark, Sincereness & Charm...Space contemplates the next beer.

We decide firstly on Speakers' Corner with Billy Cobham. Last year he became a festival legend by performing an exhilerating hour long drum solo and orchestrating the All Star Jam, which both were highlights...
Cobham is full of stories. The interviewer only has to mention Miles Davis and John McLaughlin and Cobham tells...the amazing way how Miles racked up scores of brilliant musicians for his Bitches Brew-sessions and conducts them to play exactly what he wanted (when Cobham voices Davis during the anecdotes he curiously makes him sound like The Godfather)...the idiotic amount of gigs The Mahavishnu Orchestra played after they were just conceived...you wouldn't know how much he was telling as time flew by.
As previously mentioned by Goosebump, we were in the mood to ask questions- What did he have for breakfast? What was his favourite Steely Dan-album? (a slight return on the dumb decision from MOJO to award the number one spot in the How To Buy-episode of that band to Can't Buy A Thrill) and of course, the main question we all wanted to know- What did McKendrick ask Leonard Cohen in the taxi?
Brash as usual I grab the mike from Bernard Zuel, the interviewer and what did I ask? None of the above- I chicken out and ask him about his gig with the Adeladie Symphony Orchestra last night where he played the material of the Mahavishnu Orchestra. Billy is blunt but honest- didn't go as well as expected at first but worthwile to hang on and there's a chance there's more gigs to come. Beauty!

After dealing with the scorn and derision of Space and Goosebump it's time to find a spot for the highlight of Sunday night- the unexpected main event, after Cesaria Evora had to call in sick- Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings. Anyone who has seen a Dap-Kings gig kows how tight and funky the crew is- after four songs sung by MC/guitarist Binky Griptite (who must have been the first artist ever here mentioning their fucking website onstage! Twice!) the pocket rocket arrives. The essence is very heavily centred on their last album 100 Days 100 Nights which shows a more soulful side to the band- not that you know it because in the first four songs Jones and the band belt out spiky hard funk that get the crowd in a frenzy. It's a lovely contrast to see the red hot diva turn it up in front of the stage and the band softly swaying right behind her. Every note of brass, bass, guitar and drum is placed with a militant precision. I cannot help but think that if Mavis Staples was to front this band she had to be stretchered off after two songs.



Space in, er, heaven...watching Sharon Jones.

Jones' forte as a front woman makes sure that the gig doesn't strand in sameyness- a feeling that I tended to get last time around when I saw the Dap Kings, belting out song after song without a pause. Her interplay with a young man she drags on stage when she sings a song to him is funny (especially when she finds out the boy's girlfriend's name is Toy).
The heat and dust do wear her down, after an hour it looks like she is ready to call it a night. But she hasn't let up, given up, her punches are as crisp and damaging as ever and when the band closes up after Jones leaves the stage there's an insatiable desire for more- me personally did a reasonably good impression of Ozzy Osbourne shouting for his wife!
One hell of a finish, one I fear that Cesaria wouldn't have been able to equal. It's the adage for this festival goes: People wanna dance- Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings have supplied that to the crowd in multifold.



Got A Thing On My Mind...Sharon Jones gets (it) off onstage...WOMADelaide, March 9, 2008.

There's more to come on the festival, some chill-out music but after such a high, who wants to come down? It was a right pleasure to meet up with Goosebump and Space_Is_Deep.Somehow, sommewhere we have got to do this again...perhaps when the Allman Brothers Band are touring down under one day?

Part 2:

I must be crazy. The pool at my hotel invites me to indulge and give up another heatseeker of a day in the park. But festivalgoers will say that it's hard work and takes dedication to experience these things- at least it wasn't Glastonbury-mud....
Hadn't heard from Goosebump either- maybe he was soaking up the poolwater himself.

The news is that main act Cesaria Evora is not coming as she had suffered a mild stroke after her gigs in Sydney- she is resting comfortably in hospital, so her band will still be playing but it's an instrumental 'tribute'-set to the diva. Bummer. The Diva On Bare Feet is a sight to behold but who knows, if health prevails she may be back one day.

Mid day at the oasis and New Zealand's answer to Crowded House, Don McGlashan & The Seven Sisters burn up the big stage in front of two dancing women with umbrellas and folk crammed under the little bits of shade under the two oak trees on the side. It's not the most grateful nor graceful of starts but the band works itself admirably though their set and the heat.
Speakers' Corner boasts the appearance of Black Armbanders Shane Howard and Kutcha Edwards. It's funny, you go to a world music festival to pick up something about cultures and here's the culture right on your doorstep; where Toumani Diabate talks about a lineage dating back 71 generations to approximately the year 1300, the Aboriginal stories can be dated back over 40.000 years!
Not that Howard and Edwards are that ancient, they represent the modern day aboriginal- with Shane being a 'whitefella' who personally journeyed within the culture and stories the tribes told and took a major interest in them. The concert last night was very interesting so I wanted to know more.
After lengthy introductions to the careers of both men (Edwards has been active in several seminal (Aboriginal) rockbands in the 70s and 80s) it's left to both men to explain about the history of the band and their people. It comes down to an enormous amount of tradition being ripped from its fabric by colonists, zealots, bureaucrats and government officials (there's a whole lot of truth in the statement from Kutcha when he says that it's incredible that the oppressing mass of new migrants declared that a new law was set in place wiping out an ancient law that had governed the land for many centuries and that Aborigines had to submit to that law without their approval). As much as you get information about the bands' origin, the background of protest laid bare in many of the songs and the art of songwriting Aboriginal style, it's a quite unexpected moment that drives the point home; during last nights' performance Kutcha dedicates the gripping song Why Do You Treat Me So Bad? to a friend; unbeknownst to him the man is in the audience and after the gig gets backstage to meet up with Edwards. When he thanks the big man for the dedication, exclaiming: "I really needed that", Kutcha bursts out in tears on the stage. Suddenly you understand a bit about the big connection all these people have with each other- the struggles, the hardship of so many years under foreign government but most of all the respect they have for each other through the connection with their ancestry and history going back for so many years.

The Zoo Stage (that's stage 4) hosts a blues artist under the name Mojo Webb. It's almost something out of the Blues Brothers of Spinal Tap but yeah, there's a white guy in a black suit playing Damn Right I Got The Blues in 40-degree heat!
That really gives me the blues so I pick up the action at the main stage where the darlings of the Australian yoof surf culture Beautiful Girls perform. Heaps of teenage hippies dance to the slick blend of rock, dubreggae and pop the band serve up. Just like John Butler Trio and Sarah Blasko these three acts form the main drawcard for the young festivalgoers and it's not difficult to see why- they are accomplished acts who represent Austrlian popular culture quite well. Some of the elder people complain that these bands don't belong on a festival like this but then again- many of the presented world music acts are like rock stars in their own country- all in the eye of the beholder, n'est-ce pas?

Titi Robin represents the 'rocking' culture of the Breton gypsy as his travels through the world made him embrace the wide European, Asian and especially Arabian cultures. His quintet with accordeonist, percussionist, bass player and (Spanish) vocalist almost conjure up images of Blackmore's Night- Titi looks quite a bit like Ritchie and the acoustic strummings of his beautiful bouzouk and oud hark back to the medieval ages. The rhythms are multifold and this is a real folkloristic performance- waltzes, 9/8-rhythms to bog-standard 4/4s- it's as tight as a gnats' ass. Robin is a masterful guitarist who duels freely with the accordeonist and the (young) percussionist and the set almost feels like an impromptu jamsession. Great, great stuff.

Late in the afternoon and while the shades get longer (a bit) so does the appetite for something different. With four stages open for business I stroll first to the main stage where Terem Quartet from Russia entertain the crowd with a set filled with accordeon, two lutes and a monstrous bass balalaika- the band play a gutwrenching version of the Mission Impossible-theme, so i decide to check out another stage- Egyptian/Australian Joseph Tawadros and his two merry men are trying to recreate the zonking hot streets of Cairo via oud, bass and percussion- the oud takes an age to tune properly as the heat really plays havoc with the strings- fortunately, Tawadros posesses a nice black sense of humour and the gig proceeds in a quite pleasant fashion without catching any fire.

OK, where is that damn Goosebump? Shot off a SMS...no reply as yet.

Armed with a slice of pizza I take in the gig of Beirut. I quite like his Flying Cup Club-album and I wonder how he would pull of a gig at a festival of this magnitude. He's at one of the side stages and he and his (8-odd) crew are like a gawkish teenage mob trying to impress the ladies. It sounds all good, folksy-whimsical pop with a distinct Eastern-European flavour attached to it but it's a bit lightweight- it kinda profiles the glockenspiel vs. timpani-dilemma many bands face as they'd like to play more uptempo-stuff to play up to the crowd but Beirut's charm is in the understated way Zach Condon manufactures the many veils his folksongs wear. It would be bearable if the main man would have a slightly larger dose of charisma at his disposal but no such luck. Not in the mood today, I'm afraid.
No, then Clube Do Balancao who ram the message home to the adoring sweating fans in front of stage 2- their samba-rock quenches the thirst perfectly for rhythms- the complete antithesis of what I just watched.

The evening program starts with Susana Baca, an enchanting yet powerful singer whose traditional Peruvian roots have traversed all the way to Cuba and Brazil. She draws in the crowd with her big brown eyes and dazzling performance- she really is an entertainer with a poetic soul. The band gives her all the breathing space and room to dance- she wins the crowd with a not always easy blend of music to get into but, like Yasmin Levy last year, she teaches the large crowd to listen.

Traditionally Celtic artists always have an enormous appeal because of the infectious nature of their music- fiddler Martin Hayes and (American) guitarist Dennis Cahill represent that side of the world with flair. Seated on small stools close to another the two bring their medleys of reels, jigs, ballads, marches and so forth with enormous gusto- so much that because of the frantic foottapping of Hayes the microphone stands of the duo almost wander off the stage. The crowd lie back like lazy lions in the languid early evening sun in the Kalahari desert- the pair don't mind the atmosphere as they surely would have other crowds up the tables dancing and don't mind a new experience. at times I fear for Cahill's safety as he sits so close to the fiddler and it'll only take one passionate stroke of Hayes' bow to poke out an eye....

Well, blow me down, a phonecall from Mr. Goosebump! His Lordship is in the beertent! The jolly-up is finally getting started....

After I sneak a signature on the Hayes/Cahill-CD I rock up to the beertent to meet the Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter-one-man appreciation society. So what's he like? Awfully nice dude, ale-drinker, certainly gifted with a grand love of music and the ability to wax poetical about it. Incredibly enough he lives in the same street in the same suburb I lived two years ago when I moved to Sydney!

After dissecting these boards here we've come to the discovery that we missed John Butler Trio's huge performance on stage 2, drawing a huge crowd that virtually blocks all access to the stages behind it and the Toumani Diabate Symmatric Orchestra-performance rocks the night and thousands of enthousiastic spectators; we settle on a few more beers and discussion about this joint. We manage to scooch off and get a signature from Toumani on one of his CDs- the Symmetric Orchestra-release Boulaverd de L'Independence makes a welcome entry in goosebump's life whereas I have my Mande-Variations album signed. Only here....

So with the night still sweltering after a great day of music and banter I head off to the hotel- so what would this Space Is Deep-character be like?

WOMADelaide 2008

Friday March 7

If you are allergic to hippies, please look elsewhere. They are everywhere, man.

WOMADelaide is being held at the Royal Botanic Gardens, a beautiful spot where the huge trees form the decor (and a welcome source of shade) of the festival. There are 7 stages- one main stage, seconded by two smaller ones. The four others are very small to miniscule- the latter is being used only for interviews with artists and a host and creates a very intimate atmosphere which is the real force of the festival- I always say that those small stages yield the biggest surprises. There's about two to three gigs on at the same time every hour- it means being selective and hope you catch what you miss on one of the other days.

The temperatures in the last few weeks have been soaring into the high 30s Celsius and the ground is bone dry. Everywhere around Adelaide the grass has died- the lush grass in the Garden hangs on, but barely. There's naught but sand in front of the main stage which gets kicked up by the thousands of attending people, creating a permanent haze of dust around the area- I quickly dub this year's event 'The Festival In The Desert...'
The temperature hits 40 on Sunday. It's a bit unreal to see big empty spots in front of the stages with all and sunder retreating to spots where shade falls. Every single outline of shade is being filled with flesh. Fortunately ther's free water around, kids love to splash around in it, the older folk guzzle it like they would a beer on Saturday night.

The crowd is yer usual mixture of young and old, many folks with children. It's a children-friendly festival too, with a Kids Zone. Next to that is a Healing Village where all your troubles and ailments will be spirited away (just in case- there's an ambulance post about 100 metres further downfield), tents where Tibetan monks and Tiwi-women show their arts and crafts, a large food and drink-area, catering for all your worldy food-needs- one tent sees some of the participants cook one of their traditional recipes for the guests. And of course there's a huge beertent but with the prices of 6 bucks for a plastic glass of lager, not exactly the spot to have a good pissup. Finally there's a music tent where CDs are sold and virtually all acts show up to sign CDs for the adoring faithful.

Traditionally the festival starts on Friday night at 6pm with the official welcoming and invitation by Aboriginal elders from the Kaurna-tribe to the gathered masses. Make no mistake, we are on Aboriginal land wherever we go and this is not a token gesture- there is song and dance from an invited dance group to flesh out the proceedings. Usually the crowd responds very appreciative to the welcome but there's an added twist, as one of the elders speaks out a message, voicing her appreciation of the recent declaration by the Australian prime minister Kevin Rudd who has said 'sorry' to the whole of the Aboriginal world for their treatment in past and present by governments...-a landmark declaration for previous PM John Howard refused to do so- instead of the respectful applause the elders get a standing ovation.

Opening act on the main stage is Farafina from Burkina Faso- extremely danceable on the back of some fine percussion and two balafons (wooden xylophones). The crowd seem to like it but not to the point where the enthousiasm reaches boiling point. Traditionally the heavily percussion-orientated ensembles do well with the crowd, Farafina's funk is more understated and works the best on the back of the snakelike riffs the balafons throw up. The band plays a tight uptempo set and do their best to win the crowd over which only succeeds partly. Pity for them.

Since one of the mkain reasons I'm here is the king of kora, Mali's Toumani Diabate I amble towards Speaker's Corner (stage 7) for an hour long tete a tete between him, an interviewer and the smallish crowd. It's a pleasure to hear him speak of the line of 71 generations of Djeli (as the griots in Mali are known as, he tells about their continuing influence on daily life and politics as that's how high their influence goes) who have preceded him and how Gen 72 is being trained up as he speaks. There's a lot of respect too as he speaks about his friend, the late great Ali Farka Toure, the influence of West-African music (of the Mande-empire, as it once was known) on so many forms of contemporary Western music and the way he worked on the Mande Variations (comparing it with the way the classical world improvises on a theme). Diabate is engaging and open- as griot his door is always open and just by the stories he tells you could drop in anytime and sith there listening endlessly to him. It adds another dimension to his art for sure; can't wait for his gig tomorrow night.

On stage 2 the next highlight sets up; under direction from Aussie rock legend Shane Howard (hit: Solid Rock under the band moniker Goanna) and David Arden an Aboriginal 'supergroup' was set up under the name Black Arm Band. It features contemporary Aboriginal artists who have been very influential in the Australian music scene over the last couple of decades- Kutcha Edwards, Stephen Pigram (of the Pigram Brothers), Archie Roach, Ruby Hunter, Joe Geia and many others. It's a large line-up of proud stars who sing about the treatment of their kin by uncaring politicians and bureaucrats, highlighting the days of protest, trying to reclaim land rights and justice for the 'stolen generation' (the era in which Aboriginal children were forcibly taken from their parents and put into tutelage camps to 'safeguard their wellbeing'). The lyricism in the songs being chosen is direct- don't expect prose, these people will sing their anger in straightforward words. The largely white crowd respond wildly- it's an education lesson for the many as videoscreens underline the stories told and the music is upbeat. It's when the tempo goes down the most impressive the gig becomes- Kutcha Edwards' (a massive man with a Aaron Neville-tenorlike croon) Why Do You Treat Me So Bad goes for the jugular and legendary singer/songwriter Archie Roach's song Took The Child Away about the stolen generation brings back the same feelings as Lou Reed once did on Berlin's epic The Children chills the air down noticeably. The show finishes with perhaps the most wellknown Aboriginal hit Treaty (Yothu Yindi) and a gentle farewell in the form of Somewhere Over The Rainbow/Wonderful World in the same style as the big Hawaiian fella Israel Kamakawiwo'ole once did. This group will tour later on this year in the UK- definitely worth to take a look at if you're interested in their struggle.

Mavis Staples knows everything about struggle and as her latest album We'll Never Turn Back testifies, it's an amazing rich source for inspiration and passion. She peppers the times between songs with little anecdotes as she leads us to the late fifties and sixties, the time when the black generation in the USA demanded their freedom. Backed up by a small band and three back-up singers it's her voice that does all the talking- and man, does she talk. Her voice is slightly hoarse (methinks the kicked up dust didn't do much favours for her) and sometimes she tends to drag a bit on in the presentation but when she sings- whoo boy! The subject matters of Jesus and protest live very deeply in her and she delivers. Covers of Stop Hey What's That Sound, The Weight and Born On The Bayou do lighten up the offerings. She nails everyone to the floor with the ballad Waiting For My Child To Come Home, growls everyone into submission with the excellent Eyes On The Prize and rocks the lot with the closing I'll Take You There (of course with crowd participation). Great stuff from a veteran who still matters.

And after all that delight it's time to lie back on the grass, gaze at the stars and wander to galaxies far away as the Indian ensemble of Dr. Natesan Ramani ragas away, tumbling everyone into slumberland.

Ashra- New Age Of Earth

Unfairly, Manuel Gottsching's Ash Ra-outings have been ranked well behind contemporaries in the 70s- the first Ash Ra Tempel-albums helped to put the burgeoning Krautrock-scene on the musical map, even though the band never got the plaudits Can, Neu! and Amon Duul got. And when Gottsching ditched most of his musical partners and concentrated on releasing electronic-based albums in the latter part of the seventies he found himself in the right movement only to find him playing second fiddle to Jean Michel Jarre, Kraftwerk, Vangelis and Tangerine Dream. In the case of this album it was competing with Oxygene, Trans Europe Express, Albedo 0.39 and Stratosfear, trendsetting albums within the genre.
And yet, New Age Of Earth stands its ground amongst these. For one it is by far the warmest sounding album of the bunch. Here Gottsching shows a knack for using sweeping strings without drowning his delicate melodies. Opener Sunrain harbours some of the finest sequencer strains ever composed- they melt in seemlessly with the riffing organ and the melodic arpeggios over the top of them. From that moment Gottsching temporises and concentrates on developing the pieces more naturally; Ocean Of Tenderness is just that- powered on by a submarinally low bass it envelopes the listener like a warm bath. Deep Distance shows out Gottsching's love for minimalist jazzy keyboardwork, surrounded by mesmerising bass and subliminal rhythms. It's not until the last, lengthy track Nightdust that Gottsching straps on his guitar and revives moments of the original Tempel- with this difference that understatement has overtaken exuberance and any overtly threats to burst through the surface and explode into rock riffage is finely toned down in the overall mix, creating an amazing tension throughout the piece.
Gottsching wouldn't repeat these ambient antics on any subsequent albums; he allowed his guitarplay to blossom more but couldn't get the balance as right as on this effort. New Age may be a much maligned term these days but back in '76 it was just that- a defining push towards more technical developments within music and having a group of people showcasing them in groundbreaking albums; New Age Of Earth may perhaps not get that definition but very few of his contemporary artists could better this effort.

Further listening:

Jean Michel Jarre- Oxygene
Klaus Schulze- Timewind
Tangerine Dream- Phaedra

Lou Reed's Berlin- State Theatre, Sydney, 18 January 2007.

It's only the second time that Reed has performed the entirety of Berlin. Last december he debuted this rendition at the Arts At St Ann's Festival in New York. Reed meant the production as a one-off, originally coaxed by Susan Feldman, the organisation's artistic director into turning Berlin in a stage-like production, but invited by the Sydney Festival-organisation he took the opportunity to take the show on the road and sell out 3 nights in Sydney within minutes.

Berlin par excellence is a themed symphonic album that leans itself very nicely for a complete live-rendition rather than the occasional song Reed has played during live concerts. The stage setting for it is very fitting; the apartment where the doomed lovers Caroline and Jim stay is viewed from above, couch and all suspended from the roof and on that background filmscenes are projected to illustrate the story and its dramatis personae. It's the band however that are centre stage; Reed's trusty companions are Steve Hunter (guitar), Fernando Saunders (bass), Rob Wasserman (bass/electric cello), Tony 'Thunder' Smith (drums), Rupert Christie (keyboards), backing vocalists Sharon Jones and Antony completed with a seven man-strong brass/string section and the Australian Youth Choir fill the smallish stage of this awesome 19th century theatre in the heart of Sydney. The artyness fits right in with the purpose of the performance- Lou Reed's Berlin is part of the pretentious Sydney Festival and the good bourgeois denizens of art are here to take in this debauched rock 'n roll-tale in symphonic style.

So is it rock and roll theatre or pomp and circumstance? In uptempo songs like Caroline Says I, How Do You Think it Feels and Sad Song there is the danger of veering dangerously into Pink Floyd-pomp territory, however it stays just within tasteful boundaries due to the lack of domineering synthesizers, the small number of the accompanying strings, brass and choir and (perhaps) the sobering influence of Hal Wilner who, together with album producer Bob Ezrin are in charge of the musical production- the sound is meticulously crisp, the arrangements complex but clean and not overcrowding the overall sound.
Lou Reed looks relaxed, his supple vocals reflecting this and though in some of his few guitar solos he shows a bit of edgyness, he gels the band together. Steve Hunter ripped right through Lady Day on Rock 'n Roll Animal, here he is more subtle in this lush decor, substituting his acoustic genteel (especially in The Bed) and electric guitar with consummate ease. They play the full album in its original track sequence, only adding to the playing time of several songs. The overall quality of the performance is high, only Lady Day suffers slightly from early tension nerves and in The Bed Lou drops the singing to his narrating voice which gets boring (it's also a pity that the eerie, mournful harmonium on the album has been removed, reducing the spooky character of the song quite a bit); next to that Caroline Says II radiates because of Hunter's sublime guitarplay and closer Sad Song's is almost gospel in Spiritualized-style, bringing the house down and rendering the formerly known Most Depressing Album to resurrected joyous glory.

There are encores, even though the announcement at the front door does state that there wouldn't be any; finally Sharon Jones, who like her backing vocal partner hadn't had any opportunities to shine is being unleashed and takes Sweet Jane to a soulful nirvana; Antony raptures the crowd by adding his croon to duet Lou in Candy Says and, true to form, Reed himself cannot help to add a bit of unease to the final track Rock Minuet where he turns up the fuzz on his guitar and tells his final perverted tale.

"This is an evening to press inbetween the crumbling leaves of Fall" murmurs Lou in the programme book of the show. This show has indeed transformed sweltering Sydney summer heat to autumnal cool for an hour and a half. Awesome.

the Da Vinci Code -review-

You can spin a lot of tales around religion and catholicism in general. Let's face it, a lot of the Church's movements are still shrouded in mystery and many writers have been trying to either expose some of it or use several of the myths into a tale of their own. I've read tons of books about all sorts of conspiracy theories surrounding Jesus, his disciples or the men of the cloth who are serving Him, the machinations of what once was the single mightiest organisation in the world, the ways it got to the top and its rapid descent in influence, though still important in many societies. The power the Catholic Church still exudes leads to all sorts of stories and, just like the CIA and KGB their secrecies remain fascinating for the general public and a large, easy base for writers to build their premises on.

Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code (and its more impressive predecessor Angels & Demons) does bring up a set of revelations that are quite sensationalistic but for me that was not the main importance of the book. Its subject is the chase for the Holy Grail through a set of puzzles. Brown has a knack for anagrams and riddles which dictate the pace of the tale; it's in fact the revelations themselves that deter from making this a full blood pacey thriller. The fact that he embedded in several of his books clues that led to a location, an Ellery Queen-like 'challenge to the reader' to solve the mystery is proof that next to the theories he unfolded the puzzle-element was at least equally as important.

To transfer this to a screen would be tough. As much as the puzzles are vital to the book, it would take out the pace of the thriller Ron Howard was set to make. As a result the film became more about the conspiracies. The speed in which those had to be fed to the public was breathtaking. As controlled as Dan Brown surfaced revelation after revelation, so rushed did they came up in the film. It was most notable in the scene where Neveu and Langdon visit Leigh Teabing in chateau Villette and get the whole story dished up so fast, including an interactive slideshow on a screen that was already set up for the occasion. The whole conspiracy was brought so rushed and muddy it undermined the credibility of the story.

Naturally while scripting a reasonably detailed book as Brown's it means making sacrifices to the storyline. While for the most part the book's remained intact, the biggest crime the scriptwriters have made is to spoil the revelation of the Teacher's identity the way they did; in the book Langdon and Neveu are lured to Westminster Abbey after Teabing's kidnapper summons them there; the film skips that part and reveals the kidnapper earlier in the story. Shame, it was well worked out and would have worked nicely in the film too, making the revelation more of a shock.
The film portrays Langdon much cleverer than he is in the book- there he reaches some of his conclusions through bumbling and fumbling along which renders his character more believable and more sympathetic. Which lays bare the main gripe I have- Tom Hanks (complete with hideous hairstyle) portrays Langdon so robot-like you just wonder if it wouldn't be the same if this was an episode of Star Trek and commander Data was the main character. Ian McKellen and Jean Reno are much better but have more expressive roles to begin with, Audrey Tautou's character only comes to life through the flashbacks in which she doesn't appear.

And those conspiracy theories? I've always been a believer of the dogma that the more you know the less fantastic the real truth becomes...religion has thrived for so long on the mysteries of faith which in itself is an enigma considering the restless inquisitiveness of humankind. I am a sucker for a good story but that's all that The Da Vinci Code means to me.

**1/2

The Church- Uninvited Like The Clouds

Fresh from celebrating their 25th anniversary in the musical universe, yet again do The Church boldly venture on into another sonic adventure into the psychedelic subconscious. Tracking the band's path from 1981's Of Skins And Heart to this album, their 17th official one, you'd feel that the evolution from a slightly nervous pop band to this neo-psychedelic romantic dreampop-outfit had been completed several years ago and inbetween the last few albums there was not that much difference (except for 2004's acoustic sidetrip El Momento Descuidado). If you had to point out any differences in regards to than previous studio-album Forget Yourself it's that Uninvited Like The Clouds is slightly poppier, less robust but warmer in general tone. Whatever that might mean for the average listener who still is being treated to quality pop in a standard Church-setting; Steve Kilbey's dead-pan but warmly measured vocals offering his cut 'n paste-like lyrics over the nice riffs of Marty Willson-Piper's guitar, ably assisted by multi-instrumentalist Peter Koppes and percussionist Tim Powles. The album's bursting with nice melodies and vocal lines that come wrapped in shimmering sound and where sound effects fly around like space debris in the vastness of the space The Church inhabits. Opening track Block's drive is motored by a little guitarriff and builds up nicely through the tenseness of keys and guitars. Other songs reveal less progress but immediately bind you; Easy envelopes you straightaway in a full soundscape whereas Day 5's eerie keyboardwashes are more likely to seduce you into the song. Skilfully executed with more heart than skin- it's a typical good Church-album and that's more than enough.

****

The story's told...

The writing's on the wall...Not Drowning Waving in concert at Northcote Social Club, 31-3-2006. (Photo: maarts)



Not Drowning Waving farewell at the Northcote Social Club, Friday March 31 2006.


As quick as the reformation of this band was a fact, as quick was its farewell. Last year fans of this near-legendary Australian band were delighted to find out that David Bridie, John Phillips, Helen Mountfort, Russell Bradley, Rowan McKinnon, James Southall and Tim Cole were putting Not Drowning Waving back together with the planning of several concerts, plans of the remastering and reissue of the band's full back catalogue, a box set and a new double album filled with remixes of the Not Drowning Waving-songbook by renowned Australian producers. It indicated a renaissance for the band, yet reality set in pretty quickly; the remix-album is still on the cards but has been whittled down to a single disc and there's no news yet on the reappearance of the back catalogue outside of the re-release of their international masterpiece Tabaran and a retrospective double-CD titled Through The One Last Door. Several planned concerts had to be canned due to lack of interest of the ever so fickle public. But more importantly the band was forced into a decision about their future when percussionist James Southall had to quit the band recently due to a serious elbow injury that prohibited him from playing. Since NDW has been not only about the songsmithery of main composer David Bridie alone but also about the interconnection between the members, the option of ending Not Drowning Waving's resurrection was the one that was taken. That happened with a final concert which was held almost at Bridie's back yard, the small and cosy Northcote Social Club in Melbourne.

Not Drowning Waving is one of the most interesting bands hailing from a country where the relationship between music and its heartland seemingly is dominated by the grit and the dirt of rock bands like AC/DC and Midnight Oil. In the landscape of Aussie rock NDW does seem like an oddity even though there are many references to the same grit and dirt to be found within. Australians love the down-to-earthness in their music, the blood sweat and tears-rock from bands like Cold Chisel being almost like a national emblem, their straightforward rock being as quintessential Australian as the red earth covering half of that continent. NDW have never been about being that straightforward but rather than to represent the harshness of that surrounding they have been able to enhance it and use the raw splendour of the earth as an inspiration for a more spacious trip. Listen to a song like The Same Heat where the desolate description of red earth, spinifex and dust leads to a song of barren beauty. Nature plays an important part but it's not the only subject matter that translates well into the sound; Bridie's a romantic and a sceptic who not only exhibits a fondness for looking around in the country but also is a dab hand in depicting Australian society's little maladies (The Marriage Is A Mess), its history (Albert Namatjira, a song about the famous aboriginal painter), sizing up the political situation and human rights in West Papua/Polynesia (Blackwater, The Kiap Song) to reminiscing about the past (Willow Tree).
The music in which all that comes wrapped in is a mixture from melancholic balladry to blood pumping percussive pop, often led by Bridie's piano and keyboards which bring the evocative melodies to the band where cellist Helen Mountfort, guitarist John Phillips, bassplayer Rowan McKinnon, drummer Russell Bradley and percussionist James Southall add their qualitative gifts to it. Especially the meandering guitar of Phillips is an amazing ingredient and is an important part of the unique sound of the band- drifting between wispy echoes and controlled feedback it's adding the colours to the picture rather than defining its edges via riffs and solos. Mountfort doesn't add solely the mournful quality of the cello-solo but also adds echoed shrieks via an electric cello at certain moments. Using an array of percussion, normally courtesy of Southall but in tonight occasion deputised by Airi Ingram is another aspect of their diversity; in fact, one of the main songs on NDW's repertoire, The Sing Sing leads to a dazzling climax of drums, toms and sticks. All these individual threads lead to a rich tapestry which have an unusual, almost un-Australian beauty, full of detail and gorgeous colours. A shame that not everyone dared to dive in at the time.















Colours of the land- Not Drowning performing with the visuals by Tim Cole a prominent part of the show (photos: maarts)

Tonight's presentation including full visuals by regular member Tim Cole (who also provides a vast array of sound effects which adds another layer of atmosphere) is being held at the band room of a small cafe. It makes tough going for the expansive band as the stage comparatively is like the format of a postage stamp- Bridie's monitor speaker balances delicately on the edge and Helen Mountfort has to play her keyboard on the floor because the stand for it even didn't fit on it. The room isn't sold out but is reasonably filled.

There are two sets of roughly an hour in which the band bring a large section of their most wellknown tunes with in between the sets a young Polynesian male dancer bringing a comical skit, accompanied by Airie Ingram on percussion.The full gamut of NDW's sound passes by- from the utter ambient as John Phillips demonstrates in the little solo Big Sky, making his guitar sound like a bunch of organs tied together, the forlorn ballads like The Same Heat, Teteke Aotearoa, The Marriage Is A Mess (complete with the rainy highway-sound effects by Tim Cole and the beautiful cello-solo by Helen Mountfort) and Up In The Mountains measure up excellently to the high octaned popsongs like the driven Blackwater, the bongo-fest Yes Sir I Can Boogee and Plog which sees Bridie and Cole get up and dance, no mean feat on the miniature stage. And as usual, the percussion-fest of the final track The Sing Sing brings several band members to the drums of Bradley, hammering them joyously whilst Phillips unleashes strain after strain of howling noise out of his guitar, assisted by a wall of keyboards and the clapping of fans who dance furiously to the beat.

Further highlights include the menacing Storm, built upon a simple piano motif and explored further through thundering percussion and dark waves of keyboards and guitar, Mr Suharto Man's elegant music despite its biting lyric, the bouncy instrumental Norman Young with its almost African guitarriff and the desolate ballad The Cold And The Crackle. The band is in good form, especially the upbeat Bridie and Russell Bradley and despite some technical problems (what would a NDW-gig be without a keyboard not working?) everything flows nicely.
The encores see also the reappearance of NDWs first ever song titled Moving Away- David Bridie announced he had to find the record again and listen to the lyrics, which he described as 'truly fucking awful. They make Joy Division sound like a happy band'. The eight minute-track has references aplenty to the post-wave/Romantic period and doesn't sound dated, though Bridie's decription of the lyrics is spot on.
Immediately followed by the eerie, earthy Terra Nullius it brings the proceedings back to a quiet reverie. The crowd awaits another opportunity to dance but, oh irony, as if there weren't enough factors conspiring against Not Drowning Waving in the last year, tonight sees the final act of insolence as one of the staff members tells Bridie that the gig has to be over right now because their time is up...robbing the fans of the final two tracks of which traditional closer Walk me Home gets a rousing rendition by a handful of fans who empty the venue.

I'm hard pressed to find a band that conjures up that many moodswings and presents it in a package so appetising. David Bridie might still have a solo-career as well share a band with Helen Mountfort in the more acoustic My Friend The Chocolate Cake but this sound was unique. Sadly the world was never conquered but the people attending this gig had for a moment the feeling that the earth was theirs. Truly memorable.

Augie March- Moo You Bloody Choir

Can an album sound too good?
Outside of the possibilities of artists sacrificing the soul or sturm und drang of their music by relying on studio technology, overdubs and the lure of big name producers, can the fulfilling of a long-held promise by a band be too good to be true?

That's what I've been pondering after spending several listenings to Moo You Bloody Choir, Augie March's third album. It's the follow-up to two acclaimed albums of which Sunset Studies, the debut was like a miniature of songcraft, subtle in its arrangements and lyricism. Second album Strange Bird made a stride forward but was not quite the releasing of all of the band's powers- that is left to this one. Recorded in several locations, including two tracks in San Francisco with producer Eric Drew Feldman and several in Melbourne with renowned studiocrat Paul McKercher it already exhibits the 'big dream fulfillment' for the band. The cover art is exquisite and lush, so is the booklet, the production and the arrangements.

MYBC is like the progression that Something For Kate made, from the shy-ish debut Elsewhere For Eight Minutes via the more adult Beautiful Sharks to the Trish Schoenmaker-produced big album Echolalia. The latter shimmered with great songs from a confident band. Or take Powderfinger's progression from the acclaimed Double Allergic to the accomplished Odyssey No. 5. Good album but it doesn't hold up after so many listens to its predecessor.

The title comes from vegetarian Glenn Richards' experience of living right next to an abattoir where the mournful mooing of cows being led to the slaughter greeted him in the morning, as he prtrays that scenery in The Honey Month. It's an example of the way Richards pens down the sketches he made of (his) life. His observational poetry has not changed. Neither has the fact that he has a great voice- clear and at times remiscent of a young Tom Petty without the twang. Musically this album is the most diverse of the three. Opener One Crowded Hour shows the band at its best- great melanchomelodic mid-pacer, nicely built up and blessed with the opening lyric that sets the tone for the rest of the album: "Should you expect to see something that you hadn't seen in somebody you've known since you were sixteen?If love is a bolt from the blue then what is a bolt but a glorified screw that doesn't hold nothing together?”
The lyrics are firmly Australian, yet the melancholy employed on more than one occasion sounds American. It should pose no problems for a breakthrough there as there's eighties Tom Petty-references heard in songs like Stranger Strange or the quirky Just Passing Through, the New Orleans funeral waltz that opens The Honey Month or the picked banjo in Thin Captain Crackers. But the most Australian does Augie March sound in the ballads- Bottle Baby with its fatalistic drugs 'n drink-lore is gorgeous and songwriting of high caliber and Bolte And Dunstan Talk Youth has this grainy, sandlike quality in the music about it that at times gets invaded by dreamy keyboards that shine through like the Southern Cross in a dark night.

This is Augie March's big album. Nice big shiny production, great cover art with its also nice and shiny lettering. I'm playing it now and it's fantastic but I wonder how long it'll take before the gloss will come undone and make me reach for Sunset Studies one more time. For now I enjoy the ride...immensely.

****

WOMADelaide 2006 Review

WOMADelaide 2006






There's no music festival that offers such a complete satisfactory experience than WOMAD does. The WOrld Music, Arts & Dance-festival offers a broad selection of worldly flavours in all these areas. Australia's version, WOMADelaide has been around since 1992 and is being held at the Botanic Gardens near the city centre.
Surrounded by large Moreton Bay fig trees it is a beautiful, peaceful setting for hundreds of stalls, 7 stages and lots of free space to roam about. Not only do acts from all over the world play music, there's also space for performing arts and artistic exhibitions, contemporary dance on the smaller stages and a lot of other things- a Healing Village, many stalls with food and drink from all over the world, stalls from various charitable organisations giving information about certain worldwide problems and demanding your attention and ask help in addressing those issues. There are dozens of little shops where you can buy anything from witches' hats to drums, a Kid's Corner and also a special stage where artists hold workshops, mostly doing a performance, answering questions from the crowd and inviting to join them.

The atmosphere is fantastic. There's (of course) a hippie-like communal spirit wandering around, judging by the large number of long-haired, colourful creatures wandering about and dutifully reflected in the goods sold in the shops. It extends also to the colourful decorations in the trees to the fact that everyone cleans up their rubbish and hardly any mess is left on the grounds. All the collected trash is being split, recycled and used for the trees in the park- that way the festival boasts a zero procent waste-disposal.
To describe what it looks like is tough. At times I felt like I was in the middle of a Cirque Du Soleil-performance. In the dark, light-giving balloons with circus girls dangling underneath them lifted up, one giant tree all of a sudden sported a enormous smiling face, courtesy of a light-projection on it and there were performing artists dressed up from monkeys to spouting water on stilts, which was very handy on the Saturday when the quicksilver hit almost 40 degrees. During the day you share the park with about 40.000 people, varying from tourists, the elderly (most of them with their portable mini-deckchairs), the young families and even the artists, mingling along with the crowd. Totally enjoyable and the reason I'll be a visitor for many years to come.

WOMADelaide strives to give a comprehensive program that reaches beyond the big names in world music and introduce the people to a scala of traditional music. This year it seems that the organisers have put rhythm on a high pedestal as there are many performers working with percussion- since rhythm speaks a very universal language that people can understand it is logical but in retrospect it makes this year's festival slightly unbalanced to the previous ones.


Not enough time to see everything as three or four bands/artists start performing at the same time. Many great highlights of which I distilled the top twelve in a countdown:


12. Eitetsu Hayashi (Japan)


He has the difficult task to open both the Saturday and Sunday-shows at mid day on the large Stage One with people still pouring in. It was no mean feat for Hayashi and his four band members to open proceedings and warm them up for a long day ahead. Three big taiko-drums demand the attention but the longish drum-heavy pieces are interspersed with meditative moments, courtesy of the shakuhachi (long bamboo flute with a full, rich sound) and koto (stringed instrument), played by the four regular members of his band. But the stamina of the taiko-drummers certainly was tested as the continous action took them to physical exhaustion, not being helped by the hot weather. Perfect timing but nothing clinical about this performance. Very inviting welcome to the day.


11. The Renegades Steelband Orchestra (Trinidad/Tobago)


There's a whole lot of cheese involved as this 16-man-and-women-strong orchestra pound the steeldrums and deliver classics like In The Mood, No Woman No Cry, I Will Always Love You (!), Can You Feel The Love Tonight (!!), Mas Que Nada and many more classics in a purely steelband-way. Their saving grace from being ridiculed as being just some dislocated Caribbean tourist attraction is their professional play, arrangements and their indomitable exuberance as the band members bob up like pingpongballs on stage, even play hide 'n seek behind their instruments and spur the people on to clapping, waving and dancing. Just a whole lot of fun.


10. DOCH (Australia)


This young Australian band had the young uns dancing in front of the stage with their mostly self-penned mix of Eastern-European gypsy, klezmer and jazzmusic. Not eschewing the offbeat rhythms this music sometimes offers, there's a talent at work that sounds so effortless. Tuba, clarinet, fiddle and harmonica duel it out in furious phases. Deserve to become as big as Taraf De Haidouks or Klezmatics!


9. The Dhol Foundation (India/UK)



The dhol is a big Indian wooden drum with two surfaces and five big blokes are pounding the skins so hard it's like a hoard of mammoths thundering over the plains. Using bits or rock, bhangra (complete with a Punjabi MC-like track) and dance-rhythms to complete the overall sound. Some of the lead-off rhythms offered by a drumkit sound a bit samey, like the rhythmtrack off Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's Mustt Mustt but the hyped up crowd keep on dancing through any objection you might throw at them. The boys certainly know how to entertain and that's enough for now.


8. Miriam Makeba (South Africa)


Mama Africa gets an emotional, respctful farewell from the Friday-night crowd. At age 74 her voice in the spoken word is shaky but the growls and clicks are masterful as ever. She is at her best in the uptempo-pieces as the band adds loads of dimension to the classics she brings to the audience. It's only in the ballads where it gets cringeworthy as the Kenny G-like saxophone drags the tracks to a real low. It's Makeba's maternal, warm presence that is the real magnet to this show. Not just the memory that we might never see this wonderful artist again but the awe she inspires by singing, talking to the crowd and her obvious love for Africa and its heritage to the world shines through in every minute of her performance. An universal lesson.


7. Dr. L Subramaniam/Amjad Ali Khan & Friends (India)


There's two ways of enjoying this late nigh Friday concert- watching and be amazed by the technical prowess of Amjad Ali Khan's play on the sarod, his partner on tablas and, later on, the languid, beautiful violinstrains of another master of his instrument, Dr. L. Subramaniam. Or lay back, gaze at the stars and let this music that heaves and swells come over you and feel interconnected with space, time and music. it felt that way. Just like last year when Kronos Quartet played the evening session, this was one perfect meditative moment, away from all heavy percussion and electronica, just masters of their craft weaving that spell. Amjad Ali Khan's concert is mostly taken from his last album Moksha and he interprets freely Indian classical themes together with tablas and santoor, before Subramaniam lets his violin sing in many languages. Split because the incompability of the styles being played by Khan and Subramaniam prevents a jamsession but it's not necessary to deem it a shame. Going on well beyond midnight with the sky turning overhead it's a gorgeous trip for the senses.


6. Evelyn Glennie (Scotland)


She's one of the few solo-artists at this festival but you wouldn't notice it. Talk about respect- A Scottish woman, profoundly deaf at an early age because of an illness and here she is, many years later, an expert in percussion, owner of over 2000 instruments, multi-Grammy Award-winner and respected throughout the whole music community, from the classical world to the rock-universe. She plays anything from a marimba she just had picked up in Adelaide (intriguingly triggered with some keyboard-pads which deliver some cascading noise), all types of hand percussion, snaredrum, an extended drumkit to even the floor. The whole spectrum of percussion rages by in just under an hour, from building up slow rhythms to belting the wholy bejeesus out of a pair of bassdrums, almost equalling the noise of the taikodrums heard earlier. With a friendly, humourous explanation of the works she performs (from improvisation to a classical piece written by an Icelandic composer especially for one snaredrum), it's a masterful class which should people like Neil Peart make sit up and take notice.

5. Ba Cissoko (Guinea)


Ba Cissoko surprised me the most. His latest album sounded more extroverted than what he showed at the small stage on Saturday afternoon, but what I heard was brilliant. His acoustic kora measured up against the elctric kora, some sensous bass play and very understated, muted percussion. It made sure of the koras taking front stage, tangling with each other at times and making people nod with the groove. But it's when the electric kora goes into fuzz-overdrive, the flame hits the oil- like the Jimi Hendrix of koradom he takes front stages and causes excitement. Cissoko is an engaging frontman who is quite content to share the stage with the band.


4. Wicked Aura Batucada (Singapore)


Batucada or the art of Brazilian carnival percussion. More big drums played by a big orchestra, more enthusiasm from the crowd. The interesting thing about this mob is that not only typical Brazilian sambas are played but it also dabs in African, funk and even hiphop-rhythms. The reason why they get my nod here is not only for their enthousiastic performance but because this band leads the so-called Ashanti-parade through the grounds with hundreds of kids in tow, with many other percussionists added for a rumbling long ribbon of drumming weaving through the crowds. Now that's a real carnival.


3. Ravibandhu Vidyapathi & Ensemble (Sri Lanka)


Of all the strictly percussive acts, this was the one that offered the most diversity, style and presentation-wise found a perfect mix between technical prowess, enthousiasm and presentation. Classical dance (with the help of three beautiful young ladies from the State Dance Theatre Of Cambodia) mixes well with his art of Kandyan drumming and the orchestra is tight, colourful and well balanced in its delivery. The five young drummers sing and dance simultaneously in a whirl of colour. Definitely a musical style that deserves a wide audience- the public here was very enthusiastic to hear this artful masterwork in amongst the more commonly known traditional rhythmical exponents.



2. Orchestre Baobab (Senegal)


Orchestre Baobab are almost the Buena Vista Social Club of Senegal. Veterans of the African rumba-scene, this tight and remarkably loose-jointed band gets everyone's bootie shaking during both an intimate workshop-session on Saturday afternoon and later on, on the big stage, turns up the volume, charm and band power. The band has so many songs yet only a handful of albums (there's a new album on the way which, according to the band will be released around July) but even though they play most songs from these releases, the longer jams, complete with great guitar solo-work from Barthelemy Attisso. Amazing that this band once disbanded and once was discarded as old and uninspiring. Not tonight. This reformed band, named after a mighty bulbous-looking tree has its roots firmly planted; the Cuban rumba-rhythms shine through, there's fine percussional work, great (Wolof) vocals and a stylish, highly enjoyable performance. Not for nothing they declared that their band didn't employ tradition sounds from Cuba; it is the Cubans that stole this music from Senegal!


1. La Bottine Souriante (Canada)


I first heard this French-Canadian band 9 years ago at the renowned folk festival Dranouter in Belgium and they left a deep impression on me. The music was catchy as hell, steeped in Celtic tradition with elements of jazz, cajun and French chanson in traditional chant and response-form. It was a remarkable concert which rolled from amiable drinking songs to fired up jigs, courtesy of Yves Lambert's accordeon, Michel Bordeleau's piano and tapping feet (the tic-a-tac is the major source of rhythm in the songs) and a small brass section, adding a shot of jazz in the full arrangement. A great gig which was halted at midnight by one of the organisers explaining that the time was up and consequently was bottled offstage so that the band had to reappear and play some encores.
None of the original members of the band remain in this year's outfit and since the band has been around for over 30 years it's not unusual. After tonight it is not even important who used to be an original member. Still they're not forgetting their traditionalist roots and the rich ancestry as most members are second or even third generation musicians in their respective families.
The new generation of La Bottine is led by three youngsters: Andre Brunet, Pierre-Luc Dupuis and Eric Beaudry. They take over the lionshare of vocals and feature instruments as they handle the vocals, guitars, accordeon, violin, harmonica and, most importantly, the tic-a-tacs. And most of all bring a whole new enthousiasm to the performance as that is what La Bottine has become first and foremost- a complete entertainment package. That starts with the three lead-Bottines up and moving onstage to gee up the crowd, ably assisted by Sandy Silva, a 45-year old dancer who adds her tap-like dancemoves to the tic-a-tac-pattern and the 3-man brass-section, who at times move to the front and act out a Memphis Horns-like routine. The tunes are reinforced by having two lead instruments play the main melody and while the emphasis is on high-octane jigs and reels, there's quieter moments as well as the acapella-song Adieu Virginie gives the band a bit of a breather. Together with a enormously enthousiastic crowd it makes for a full hour of highlights of which their cover of Penguin Cafe Orchestra's Music For A Found Harmonium takes the honour of best moment at the festival.


Special mention for Talvin Singh who's DJ-set (the first one ever done in the history of this festival) spawned some great ethnic fusion, Australian bluesguitarist Jeff Lang who added a dash of, well, blues to the day, The Musaphir Gypsies Of Rajasthan who in true Tinariwen-desert nomad-style bring their folkloristic classic music with intricate dancers as well, Cape Verde-singer Lura who brought the Cesaria Evora-feeling onstage with allure, sentiment and freshness, Kanda Bongo Man who closed off the saturday night with lengthy soukouss-rhytms, very sexy dance(rs) and lots of fun and Farida & The Iraqi Maqam Ensemble who brought their form of Iraqi maqam-vocals with lots of passion.