Keep on rocking in the free world

I went concert-hopping in Hendaye last night.  The plan was to go and see Gani Mirzo, an Oudh player who blends Kurdish and Flamenco styles, doing a benefit concert for Syrian refugees.  I arrived way too early, so went walking around town and dropped into a bar that was having an open mike session with people playing Galician (Basque?) pipes,  a tambourine and a didge.  The vibe was lovely, the tapas first-class and some drinking buddies from Hendaye Plage were there.  It had a Cambrian mountain trance –fusion feel to it. This is the zonard zone and I feel at home.  I was really tempted to stay but had a ticket to see the Oudh player.

The Church of Saint Vincent (watch the video for great footage) is very impressive, possibly the finest church I have seen in the Basque Country (though I haven’t made a point of checking them all out).  In typical Basque style it has balconies above the main knave – for the men.  Most of the churches in the region have one balcony – but this one has three, elaborate and imposing.  The acoustics are great, the musicianship superb and on any other night this would be the place to be.   But it just feels a bit too staid. This is a night out for the liberal, worthy-cause-supporting, world-music-loving bobos of Hendaye. 

At the break I go outside for a cigarette and hear singing from a cafe across the street. I wander over to check it out.  What happened next was probably the most authentic and moving world music moment of my life.  Inside the bar there was a four piece band playing (two guitars, two accordions) and a group of maybe sixty people singing their hearts out along to them: in Basque.  The 'pop-up choir’, ranging from young mums to beret clad pensioners was grouped in a semi-circle around the band, ten deep into the bar area and stretching out onto the terrace: hands on hearts, belting out their favourite Basque songs.

I ask one of the audience what the songs are about.

'This one is about two Basque brothers who climbed Mount Everest and who loved the same girl’ comes the reply.  

I can (more than) live with that. True, the band did sound like a second rate oompah band that one might find in any European bar of a weekend. True, every song did end like ‘Hey Jude’, with innumerable ‘la-la-las’. But this felt like a genuine and spontaneous expression of cultural identity.  Nothing like the cultural evenings that are put on for tourists or visiting academic dignitaries at conferences in remote regions. I've never experienced a 'cultural event' like this. It's raw, spontaneous, authentic, participative. 

I made a short video clip but it's too big to load onto the blog.  Take a look at it here. I stayed, till the wee hours. This felt so much more authentic than – well anything I can remember.  At some point a hokey-cokey broke out, led by one of the accordionists.  Then it was dance time and I jived with one of the pensioners who had been singing her heart out earlier.  I went home with my pulse racing – having joined the mailing list for details of the next get together.

One night out, three concerts, three very different social groupings.  There’s diversity to be found here. 

Saturday gigs - 2013

Muziek Publique is one of my favourite institutions in Brussels. They run a venue near Porte de Namur Metro. It’s an old music hall type of place, seating maybe 500 - it has an ornate balcony (although I’ve never seen it occupied- perhaps for safety reasons). The concert hall is hidden away in a modernistic (read 1960s - or so) shopping mall. They must have built the mall around it (which must have involved a lot of lobbying from conservationist groups, but that’s another story for another time). The atmosphere is intimate, the audience covers a wide age range and the front of house is largely staffed by friendly volunteers.

They put on world music concerts about four times a week and these have become a regular haunt for me. This year alone I have been to see The Carolina Chocolate Drops (a black hillbilly band - from guess where?), two Malagasy bands (I’ve been listening to world music for twenty years or more, yet never come across Malagasy music before – I was impressed), the Bonny Men - an Irish folk band (whom I thought took themselves a bit too seriously – but this was their first European tour) and Samurai, a bunch of five accordionists (all of different nationality). That’s about one a month and every band has been so good that I have bought one of their CDs. In fact the only (paid) concert I’ve been to this year that wasn’t at Muziek Publique was Ron Sexsmith at Botanique (another more-than-pleasant venue).

But that’s not all they do: they also run music courses and every two months they hold a ball: ‘Bal Queimada’ at the Maison du Peuple in St Gilles Parvis. This is a bit like a barn dance, but so much more. Again the age group is wide (from teens to pensioners), the music is largely Celtic, the dances are frenetic and one of the highlights of the night is the ritual burning of the Queimada- a Galician(?) cocktail consisting (I think) of apple brandy, spices and coffee beans –it’s like a highly alcoholic version of Red Bull (except it tastes nice). Naturally after several shots of that no-one wants to go to home after the ball, so one inevitably ends up in another bar (the choices in and around St Gilles Parvis are quite extensive) with friends (existing old or newly discovered) and don’t think about going home until the wee hours (or later). Last Friday was one such evening – and Saturday became a non-event. It’s definitely one of the social highlights of my calendar in Brussels. Oh did I mention it’s free for members?

Here’s a few gig photos from the first half of 2013.



Malagasy band



Ron Sexsmith



Malagasy performer



Samurai

The good music festival that felt bad

Cafe Couleur was around the corner from my flat this weekend. The biggest world music festival in Belgium (I think), withTinarewin and Lee Perry playing on the same day. How could I not go?   
No-one told me they had a policy of don't bring bring in any drinks (including water) or cameras.  I managed to get my camera in (at the second attempt) but I lost a few beers into the skip. The bands were good but the corporate branding and attempts to create a monopoly on food and drink sales and the images of performers just left a very bad taste....