Month: March 2016

Dacaluf 0277: Sunrise Highway Malawi

DaCaLuF – Saison 2 – Ep77 – Plongée dans le lac Malawi!

Un vrai aquarium ce lac Malawi!
Is it an aquarium ? No, only the awesome Lake Malawi!

Musique: Sunrise Highway par Westy Reflector
bandcamp | freemusicarchive | soundcloud

DaCaLuF – Season 2 – Ep77 – english subtitles – Diving at lake Malawi via David Bellais on Vimeo

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The Bellais family from France (DAvid, CAmille, LUcile et Félix) is traveling around the world in a converted old fire truck for two years. They’ve used a few of my tracks in their video journal, and riding along, hearing my songs pop up every so often, is an absolute kick. Follow them here:

http://dacaluf.com
https://vimeo.com/channels/dacaluf
https://www.facebook.com/dacaluf

Source Track:





[track] lonesome faraway sounds

Dedicated to the memory of Berta Cáceres and to the ongoing effort to free Bassel Khartabil.

distant cries
of cracked-down souls
trapped underground
church bells at dawn
ringing for ones
silenced by crowds

high lonesome faraway sounds
filtered through the air
echoing off clouds
lost frequencies explain
the essence that remains
high lonesome faraway sounds

could be something coming
up through the earth or
falling from the sky
warning calls to stay away
no need to amplify

[ch.]

through a cone of confusion
lateral diffusion
jets descend overhead
truth blown by the wind
trains coming round the bend
you know how these stories end

[ch.]

postcard sorceress: 7-year reflection

My mother is Venezuelan. I spent a fair amount of time in Caracas as a kid, and then other parts of Latin America at various points of my life. When you put a fair amount of distance between yourself and your home, you learn that there are courageous and discarded lives anywhere you go, across diverse economic and political strata.

One thing I’ve come to admire in Latin American people is their unwavering capacity to hope. In even the most challenging grinding circumstances, I’ve seen Latin Americans demonstrate hope in the face of the blackest darkness, in a way that seems particular to the culture. I once asked a friend in Mexico about this and he said this arises from the semantics of Spanish, where to be “hopeless is to be dead.” There’s little language in Latin culture for the gray area in between hopelessness and not-living. “No one here,” he told me, “has a lifeless smile.” That is to say despair is big south of our border, but not hopelessness. We could learn a lot from that.

I penned “Postcard Sorceress,” the only Spanish song I’ve written and recorded, seven years ago today in 2009. My 2010 record Hola Sayulita contained both the English and the Spanish versions. What would happen, I asked myself, if hopelessness gripped someone in a place where there’s no language for hopelessness?

In the track, the protagonist Nina is a poor jewelry maker for tourists in the surfing town of Punta Mita, on the Pacific coast of Mexico.…

continue...

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