Kevin's Watch

Dorian wrote:Oh yes. He is.

The guy, who was around back from the late 20's onwards, burnt his hand in a fire and could only use two of his fingers on his fret hand. he retaught himself how to play guitar and from there went on to write some of the most amazing gypsy jazz ever.

In fact, he IS gypsy jazz.

Heres a video, bear in mind that most of it, apart from the head, is pure improvisation. watch how fast some of his runs are, with only two fingers! His violinist, Stephan Grippeli, is a legend in his own right. Love it. This isnt his fastest or most technically demanding song, just one of his tasty ones

youtube.com/watch?v=h4DDkhLM3wI

Dorian wrote:The conclusion was that are history student should not argue with a musician student, especially one who graduated in the top of his music history class.

Syl wrote:Vespers is that way.

Zephyr wrote:Well, Bach=God, imho. My final project was on his unaccompanied violin music. But string quartets are my favorite ensemble. Beethoven and Bartok are the best for that. I did a paper on one of Beethoven's quartets, and a paper in grad school on Bartok's 6. And hell, each is Bach's equal in their own way. .

Fist and Faith wrote:

Dorian wrote:The conclusion was that are history student should not argue with a musician student, especially one who graduated in the top of his music history class.

Hm. Didn't know that. My college degree is Music History.

Dorian wrote:Gah bugger it, Ill stop speaking music stuff then, bar songs for pantheon.

I dont participate in this site outside of Gravin Threndor. I is Elitist

Web source for the latest music: onlylyrics.com
I heard her in the valley,
I heard her in the dead of night.
The warning of a white hare
Her eyes burning bright.

Be careful you don`t catch her
Or give her right of way.
For she will look upon you,
And steal your soul away

For the white hare is calling,
She's dancing in the night.
She'll be out `til the morning
With her eyes burning bright.
The white hare is calling you.

Out upon the heather
A shadow came onto me.
Her hair was hanging over,
Her face I could not see.

She ran behind the rocks,
I heard the hounds cry,
The image of a woman
Her head she held up high.

For the white hare is calling,
She’s dancing in the night.
She'll be out `til the morning
With her eyes burning bright.
The white hare is calling you.

If you go hunting,
Calling out your prey,
If you see a fair maid,
Her hair in ashen grey,

Be careful you don`t catch her,
Or give her right of way,
For she will look upon you,
And steal your soul away

For the white hare is calling,
She's dancing in the night.
She'll be out `til the morning,
With her eyes burning bright.
The white hare is calling you.

You can her her calling every night

You can her her calling every night
You can her her calling……

No more eiderdowns for me,
no extra sheets or electric socks –
there’s a new accoutrement in my blanket-box:
I’ve got a great god Quetzalcoatl green hot-water bottle cover –
a present from my aunt and uncle from their trip to Central America –
Uncle Barry Auntie Erica:
both explorers, that’s how they met –
they both simultaneously discovered the source of the River Ganges.
Half an hour either way they’d’ve missed each other,
wouldn’t have met.
Life’s funny like that.
Anyway, they said “Rachel, we’ve got you
a great god Quetzalcoatl green hot-water bottle cover;
we hope you like it –
it was either that or a pillowcase shaped like the god of spring
with a skull for a face and his liver on the outside,
but they didn’t do them in lavender and we know you like lavender.
But I like my great god Quetzalcoatl green hot-water bottle cover:
one half’s feathery, the other half’s scaly,
because of the dual nature of the deity –
part-bird, part-snake, part-snake, part-bird.
The feathery half keeps me awake, tickles my middle makes me laugh;
the scaly half gives me nightmares about lizards
and in that respect it’s a lot like life –
partly nice, partly nasty. It’s a metaphor.