c’est l’histoire de mecs…encore une…on a reve cette rencontre, et puis c’est arrive…en voici le temoignage, sonnore, un apres midi, dans un cafe…Les vagues., la camargue, la guitare., les gitans, le temps qui s’arrete, c’est la famille mon pote. c’est l’hommage a Sarah…la noire…la patronne, nous lui dedicacons bien sur cette musique, qui sans elle ne serait pas la…
The whole thing was something else. When I woke up, I was marooned on some beach in the bayou. We had set out on some project which had required we become immune to alcohol. Someone decided that it was best to go with the flow lets say. By the time the planes were wheels up, we had each already lost control. When we got off the train we lost two tripods that belonged to one dear friend and we met Julia. I remember ridiculous amounts of luggage. Our differences were no difference to us.
What happened to us to decide that we could all share a room? What a room. It was tiny; we piled in horizontally.. I think Balé and Julia took the space on the floor between the bed and the wall. Today, Julia says that we all snored together, an orchestra in symphony. Back then, I would say: Balé, record! This is the film. You are involvng yourself in a romance, and your romance belongs to the film!
There was a lot of love, and that made everything electric, on tippy toes. It was by all means a romance, and as with all adventures which share this quality, we all fell in love – at least. Something no wealth could buy, we afforded ourselves. It was compelling: so much cunningness, so much flirt.
I think that we identified with Manitas and his family and the music of the Gitanes because they are art warriors, they carry a culture out of the dustbin of the West, they speak ancient languages of cosmic evolution which breathes winds of revolution. We all feel like we’ve been fucked out of our freedoms by the masters of mankind. And revolution through art is what we choose to work on.
Ricardo was our guide.
the mix belongs to a very special mr. Yuval Ziegler
Nice