Bodrum, Bodrum, So Good They Named it Twice

Post Ramazan was carnival time in old Bodrum Town. Sadly we missed most of it because of an extended visit to Blighty and La Belle France to celebrate the half centuries of my two oldest friends. The inaugural festival adopted the slogan Bodrum on the Streets, and included a choice selection of international artists, musicians and street performers, all milling around the streets of central Bodrum and adding a splash of colour to the busy, buzzy town. Each evening, the cornucopia of culture culminated in an on-stage performance in Castle Square. Good-humoured, generous crowds were serenaded on sultry evenings by an eclectic mix of music – from classical to rock, jazz to hip hop. The artistic extravaganza stretched over five nights. We caught day four which began with a small parade of painted performers as they bopped and danced, sauntered and strutted their stuff along the promenade. Hey, it wasn’t Rio but it was fun nonetheless.

We followed the procession towards the main mosque and happened upon a small band of barefooted Turkish musicians, pouring out some great jazz. Locals and tourists alike, clapped along, whistled and applauded; ballooned and candy-flossed kids danced around the band, clearly having a ball.

We made our way to Castle Square and managed to squeeze onto a crowded table at a restaurant along the side of the sardine-packed piazza. We settled down to soak up the party spirit and to watch the free concert with a glass or three of red. The headline act was Oojami. We’d never heard of them and had no idea what to expect. The leader of the group, Necmi Cavli, is a native of Bodrum who now lives in London. They were amazing, melding traditional Turkish folk riffs, Irish fiddler’s reels, rock rhythms, rap and exotic belly dancing to create an extravagant whirling Dervish of sight and sound. It may sound like a dissonant mess to some but it was powerful and hugely hypnotic.

 

Regrettably, we weren’t around for the final day and a finale that featured a performance by three of Bodrum’s favourite sons, MFÖ. They brought down the house with their most famous song, Bodrum, Bodrum. Not heard it?

 

 

The Festival was a great success and rightly so. Plans are afoot to make the festival an annual fixture to promote a modern, progressive, cross-cultural and non-jingoistic image for the town. Şerefe to that.

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I Believe the Children are our Future

For all the fast talk of political Islam and a return to piety there truly are two sides to this magnificent resurgent nation. Istanbul’s Kadir Has University clearly has a modern, progressive curriculum that allows students to express themselves in words and music in a fun and inclusive way. I’ve picked three great examples of this. The first two are uplifting romps that had us rolling in the aisles. The third brought us to our feet.


Yes, this really is a duet with Jennifer Saunders, presumably remixed from Shrek 2.


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Amy Winehouse RIP

I’m off my Turkey message to commemorate Amy Winehouse who died yesterday of a suspected drugs overdose. Her meteoric rise to fame and rapid descent into Hell was tragically predictable. Her seminal album Back to Black is work of a genius with lyrics laced with sorrow and utter desperation. Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain and Janis Joplin and now Amy - all died at the same age. It’s not called the 27 Club for nothing. She just couldn't come back from the black. Let’s hope she’ll be remembered more for her art and less for her addictions.

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Turkey's Got Talent

Sit back and enjoy a joyous discovery brought to you by You Tube and Yankee Istanbul blog Death by Dolmuş


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Spain's Got Talent

News from the other end of the Med. Swiss-based multi-national engineering company, ABB recently axed 160 jobs at a plant in Bilbao despite reporting record profits. Some ex-employees decided to do a full monty to highlight their plight. Spain has suffered particularly badly during the recession and 1 in 5 of the adult population is out of work. Thank you to Staying Sane in Spain for finding this. I find it a little cheeky but readers of a nervous disposition who find semi-naked hirsute men too seductive or offensive should change channels now.


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Eurovision Song-Fest Fever

Forget the crisis in Syria, the civil war in Libya, Bin Liner’s death or the impending draconian clampdown on internet freedom in Turkey. It’s Eurovision Song Contest night and Europe’s having a party. Various angst-ridden bleached blond divas, euro pretty-boys in tight pants mincing around the stage and ruritanians in pantomime drag have been bussed in to Düsseldorf for the annual kitsch camp-fest. What started as a genuine attempt to heal the wounds of a war-torn Europe has degenerated into a financially crippling travelling circus of political intrigue and regional love-ins that now requires an ECB bailout to stage.

Turkey was knocked out in the semis. Who are the Azeri Turks going to vote for now? Will it be the usual Balkan back-slapping bonhomie from people who only a few years ago were at each other’s throats? Who’ll pick up the Greek vote now Cyprus is out? Was Dana International’s unceremonious ejection because the Israelis are beastly to the Palestinians or due to the fact that she’s gone rather broad at the beam and sang a crap song? Will anyone vote for the UK? I doubt it even with Duncan James’ newly acquired disco tits out on display. These are questions of profound global significance.

There will be Eurovision parties the length and breadth of Blighty, staged by queens for queens. Soho will be a ghost town and we will be glued to the set doing our bit for the boys.

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So You Think You Can Write a Pop Song?

Liam has become quite fixated with the house to add to a long list of small obsessions that have emerged following our emigration. He spent hours WD40ing the marble patio. It came up lovely. He’s now threatening to re-grout the kitchen and bathroom floors. We’ve found a whole website dedicated to the wonders of WD40 – 1001 things to do with it. In between spending time on his knees, Liam’s been setting some lyrics to music. The words in question were penned by our nephew and my namesake, Jack. The prose is very deep, very torch song – all lost love, bitterness, angst and misery. It’s entitled the Promise. It escapes me what a 14 year old adolescent could possibly know about mislaid love. I put it down to the comprehensive system. Classically trained Liam can’t do hooks and struggled with the composition. He’s developed a deeper appreciation of the well-crafted three minute pop song.

This is the result. Not a pop song perhaps, but beautiful nonetheless.

 

The_Promise.mp3 Listen on Posterous

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Asia in a Minor Key

A real challenge to able-bodied emigreys is to find a gainful occupation that doesn’t involve propping up the bar in some sad, insular expat dive to Blighty-bash and complain ad nauseum of all things local. I have my blog but what of Liam? An early decision was to order a Roland keyboard from Istanbul. A creative renaissance ensued. Liam spends endless hours tickling the ivories and fiddling with his knobs. Well, if you can't beat 'em then join 'em, so I have embarked on a set of suitably pretentious lyrics for him to compose around - more Shakespeare's Sister than Shakespeare, methinks. The lyrics are evolving into a compendium cryptically entitled Asia in a Minor Key.

The title lyric, an ode to the emigrey forlorn, goes like this

Land of my fathers, don’t you want your son?

Shall I run from you, my kin undone?

To the land of sunrise and chattering minarets

Bizarre bazaars and monkish pirouettes

 

Chase my dream across dusty hills

Past olive groves and neglected mills

To find myself in the arms of strangers

To talk in silence and delight in dangers

Erase the pain of past misdeeds

Follow my road to wherever it leads

Land of my father I have done all I can

To find the love of an Ottoman

Asia in a minor key

A game of chance

Last chance for me

Land of my fathers; don’t you want your son?

I ran from you, my kin undone

To the land of sunrise and chattering minarets

But shall my dream stay unrequited yet?

 

Pompous twaddle or what? I guess Liam thinks so. While his Steps to Sibelius musical palate may be a broad church, classically trained Liam struggles with hooks and the art of a well-crafted three minute pop song eludes him. In any case, his real dream is to complete the requiem he began to write a decade or so ago and to write a score for a film. This is now.

Liam has been experimenting with his keyboard by writing some short pieces as part of his score for a soundtrack. It's very much a work in progress but you fancy a listen, please click below.

Sylvie.mp3 Listen on Posterous

Catherine.mp3 Listen on Posterous

Elphame_Wood.mp3 Listen on Posterous

More of Liam's work on my website