“Symbolic cloud cymbals, vibrate in-between time and space never in sync yet always in rhythm, the stamping of moccasins into the dry earth lifting with a chant, the buffalo skin drum sinks us deep into the veins, the blood stream and eventually the heart…”
People get used to the soundscape of their environment, shsht world, shsht sounds, shsht soundscape, shsht ideas, shsht politics, artificial world of site and sound, shameless jangling human vibrations, clanging steel, blaring horns, horrific reminders on cell phones.
Although the world has always been about change, there is a difference between change and the perfect change. My Grandpa barely changed from the time he was a young man to his death, everything about his life circled among change yet it was the perfect change, and it came hand in hand with a drum and a song. Much like music, it’s all about timing and getting everything into the right rhythm. That’s something we Americans from the U.S. will never get I guess.
We need a cosmic drummer, one who can protect the Rhythm – not a simple drummer – a cosmic-jazz- coyote drummer, one who always has a beat tucked in to hold fast on the changes. Like a BANg BANg SHA BAng Bang SHA bang SHAAAAA Bang type of wizard, one who has studied, not a natural. A natural is dangerous and has always been dangerous. To be natural is a rude way of saying, you haven’t lived long enough to Sha BAng..
“The great belly drum and drummer throbbed hoarsely. chanting chanting instant pause and slammed then thunder throbbed drum beats, shrills and yells, rattling gourds,, My GOD where is the one? there is no one….” Read More→