Outer Tumbolia in Richard Haslop's Best of 2009 List

Richard Haslop, he of the insightful record reviews during the 80's in South Africa's only legal girlie magazine, SCOPE, has made his 'Best of 2009' list available. Ok, that's not a fair introduction at all but it was the first time I came across his name and SCOPE did open my eyes, er ... introduced me to a couple of hard to track down muscial gems in an otherwise bleak cultural desert of top 40 80's radio pop.

Richard continued to educate the masses on radio on SAFM's now much missed Roots to Fruits show where all manner of indie, jazz, americana and africana got a rare airing and is also a contributer to online 'zine Perfect Sound Forever where he exposed, to a larger online community, the likes of Not Even the TV  and Kalahari Surfers.

Amongst entries for BLK JKS, Califone amd Tinariwen, here's what he had to say about Outer Tumbolia and Strung Like a Compound Eye coming in at number 34.

"One of the few givens in any South African music year, other than the fact that, by and large, it’s likely to disappoint most people listening outside a fairly narrow box (it’s a lack of opportunity to hear what’s worth hearing, unless you know someone who knows where to find it on the Net, and who to find, that causes this, rather than an absence of anything worth hearing), is that pretty much anything Cape Town experimental guitarist Righard Kapp releases, on whichever is the latest of his impossibly obscure imprints and no matter how limited the edition, will be worth getting, and getting into.

2009 was no exception – Kapp’s own ‘Strung Like A Compound Eye’ makes a terrific fist of what are broadly the three strings to his musical bow, namely the fine acoustic guitar instrumentalist, the ever inquisitive sonic investigator and the affecting songwriter, none of which ever quite ends up where you expect it to.

Ramon Galvan is a likeminded soul who used to be in the excellent Blackmilk; his refusal to be pinned down stylistically, his unwillingness to treat his wonderful voice as a conventional rock instrument and his lively musical imagination have led to a kind of quietly compelling, meticulously wrought, unexpectedly addictive folk/jazz/chamberpop artsong hybrid that keeps serving up surprises."

http://kaganof.com/kagablog/2010/05/09/richard-haslops-albums-of-the-year-2009-3/

This is expected to be published in print over the next two issues of Audio Video Magazine.

Speaking of 'Africana' it was particularly thrilling to see Pieter Hugo's photographs of Konono No.1 in the April 2010 edition of Wire Magazine.

A more fitting marriage of photographer and subject I cannot imagine!

A Coat of Arms

A Coat of Arms
A sea of snakes
A crown of knives
One for each mistake

This eagle is a buzzard
so run and tell your mother
This lion is a Griffin
Stabbing through the ribbons
I hear the souls descending
Coat of Arms is neverending

A Coat of Arms
A sea of snakes
A crown of knives
One for each mistake

Charcoal & Soda

Charcoal and Soda

Can you believe,

We are older?

The only thing I ever got from you

Was a camera

And two large shells

(bullet shells)

It's not that you owe me something

You don't owe me something anymore

As the light rushes in

As the fire gushes out

He was a photographer from Angola

Breathing Egypt in

Through charcoal and soda

www.24.com coverage

No Rest was one of a number of featured South African artist MP3's on www.channel24.co.za. last week.

What they said:

"Reclusive singer songwriter gives avant-folk rock fans their fix with this abstract impressionist guitar and thumb-piano filtered tone poem off his bewitching debut solo album, Outer Tumbolia."

I guess I need to get out more!

http://www.channel24.co.za/Content/Music/Player/760/b203e5b30c624d43af03eb3be55814c1/19-03-2010-09-41/Ramon_Galvan_-_No_Rest

http://www.channel24.co.za/Content/Music/Mp3/Archive

Super Legs

Super Legs

I've got super legs
On super feet
They take me where
I need to be

And all my teeth
They talk to me
Tell me to 'shush!'
And when to speak

But there are secrets
That they keep
Well that would be
The genius of teeth

Dead Brine

Dead brine,
You know I need it

A rich wine
From a lake I brewed it

Crushed the 'rushes
And the mud
And the sick of the ducks
And the tears that I get
When the words come out

I tilled it, father
And I muddled it, mother
We're not getting any younger
No you don't
No you don't

Oh black basin
To quiet things down
It precedes conversation
On the things that matter
So I take some with me
In a flask for drinking
But the dead floats upwards
It's what my lips are kissing


I tilled it, father
And I muddled it, mother
We're not getting any younger
No you don't
No you don't

On and on
I took to swimming through
On and on (the sentry)
Pulled me back to shore
It's a deeper well
It's a sad farewell

(I paint a picture 'cos it's real)
On and on
(I choose a fiction 'cos it's fair)
On and on
Why don't you sing me something
Just a tune then we're something
Or just a word.

Refillable / Recargable

If ever I fall

You catch me

It's not a reflex

You catch me

If I come out fighting

You dispatch the winning blow

Oh, the price you paid

All the drinks you bought

I wish they were 

Refillable

Oh, the price you paid

All the drinks you bought

I wish they were 

Refillable

It's such a crime

All the drinks you bought

I didn't think to go outside 

and check on the supplies

Is this one mine?

I'm never really sure

I'll grab another from the pile

Its inexhaustable

Oh, the price you paid

All the drinks you bought

I wish they were 

Refillable

I'm building a tower to a fat man

With a fat wife

They're fat lined

And super kind

When the bough breaks

The words I speak

Are a fat whine!

I'm building a tower to a fat man

With a fat wife

They're fat lined

And super kind

When the bough breaks

My cradle speak

Is a fat whine!

And a tendril out of nowhere

It keeps me alive!

Ask me and I'll tell you everything

One small window to discover everything

I'll explain my hate,

Explain it away

Refill my cup

And I'll tell you anything!

Arrowhead

Its not clear
What Mr Winter wants
I'm pretty sure
What he wants, he gets

I pushed the middle
And you pressed the metal
And we made an arrowhead

Yeah, I pushed the middle
And you pressed the metal
And we made an arrowhead

But the rod's all but rotten
And I've simply forgotten
How to attach it anyway

A limber rod
So show your stuff
You're pretty quick
Are you quick enough?

Do do do do

I pushed the middle
And you pressed the metal
And we made an arrowhead

Yeah, I pushed the middle
And you pressed the metal
And we made an arrowhead

But the rod's all but rotten
And I've simply forgotten
How to attach it anyway

Outer Tumbolia CD and Digital Purchases

Happy 2010 to all.

A couple of commercial announcements

Outer Tumbolia digital sales:

distribution via Believe Digital

with sales and/or streaming via:

PLAY.COM

Rhythm Online Music Store

Emusic

Amazon

Gucca

Napster

Deezer


Physical CD sales online at SETCOM

Available at the following stores

The Book Lounge

Mabu Vinyl

EDIT: Copies also available at Other Music NYC

SUI Studios Recording 19/12/09-20/12/09

"Oh yeah, give it to a bone yard..."

"The minor left is all the difference made"


"I am a passenger"





"Enough to raise the roof"



A very big thank you to Dan at SUI Studios for making these sessions so extremely effortless for us


"As the smoke rises up"


(a minute after this photo was taken this ancient keyboard emitted some actual smoke!)

Magic II

Posting the excerpt from Hiding The Elephant (a book that communicated far more to me than a few magic trick spoilers, and manages to come off as part mystery thriller, part historical document, part love letter to a bygone golden era - all the while reminding one of that which is important in terms of performance and process) a couple of weeks ago, dislodged a memory that I had not accessed for some time:

I must have been eight or nine and a new kid arrived at our school. He was gangly and shy but with a very generous heart and great sense of humour and we seemed to hit it off straight away, as we shared some similar interests. The clincher was his hobby in magic!

I had recently acquired a book of magic tricks and was putting together a small repertoire. I had also received a magic set as a Christmas present from my parents. Unlike the simple homemade gimmicks I had built from the magic books I had read, the magic set came with great promise. All the tricks were housed in a cardboard box with glossy finish, showing top hat, silk scarves and interlinked metal rings and all the various other accoutrements that signified a 'real' magician at work. The interior was a different story altogether. Just like those pictures of hamburgers on fast food menus when compared to the actual edible artifact, the contents of the box of magic tricks were undersize, cheap looking and altogether disappointing. At least half the tricks in the box were ones that I knew already and the other half were cheap plastic gimmicks that could not stand up to the most surface of scrutiny. There was at most one decent gag in the whole bunch; three different lengths of rope that are transformed in three identically length pieces of cord. It required the most practice, relied on no custom gimmicks and was easily the jewel in a rather shabby crown. Still, some of these cheap plastic trinkets did somehow seem to provide me with at least a modicum of authenticity.

I just didn’t get it

My new found friend was to provide me with one better: a father who was a bona fide magician! I remember the first time I saw him. He had come to pick up his son from my house and was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and slops. He wasn't very mysterious, but then he was only a part time conjuror, you see. I think he was a chartered accountant during the day. My friend was having a birthday party soon at his house and the entertainment was to be his father's magic show. This is where he would surely transform into a more believable magical character?


Again, I was disappointed as he stood in front of about 30 other kids in a warm suburban Saturday afternoon again attired in the aforementioned t-shirt, shorts and slops while he ran through his sequence of tricks, sometimes including his wife in on the act for the more large scale illusions like the 'zigzag lady'. It was ok, nothing I hadn’t seen before elsewhere but I felt that he was holding back and that there was some arcane magic that we just weren't ready for.

I just didn’t get it

One afternoon at my friend’s house, while thoroughly bored we went outside and I asked what was in one of the spare rooms in their house. This was a spare room where his father kept all his old magic gear from years back and he (my friend) was not allowed inside and had never ventured in.

"You're kidding right?"

My powers of persuasion were obviously pretty good or my friend had just been waiting for an excuse and the right partner in crime to come along because we very quickly decided to make getting onto that room our little project for the afternoon. Whether we sourced a key, pried open a window or squeezed in through burglar bars, I cannot recall but we managed to get into the room without raising any alarm or breaking anything. I guess a lot of rooms that look pretty impregnable are quite easy to into (or out of) if you put your mind to it.

Inside was where our friendly neighborhood magician was hiding the goods. The room was literally bursting with the stuff of real magicians. Different colored silk scarves big enough to wrap a small child in tumbled out of half open chests, splayed walking sticks showing off their concealed bouquets of plastic flowers, top hats, different sized foam balls strange jugs emblazoned with rabbits and dragons and other signifiers of authenticity littered the entire room. Neither of us knew where to look first and just stood frozen trying to take it all in.

I eventually got on all fours to try getting a closer look at some of the prepared playing cards lying on the floor and noticed a file of old yellowed books on magic under the couch. I carefully lifted one up and began scanning its yellowed pages. Inside were tricks I’d never seen on any stage let alone in any book, now all forgotten, save for one explaining how to rip an entire phone book apart with your bare hands.

Eventually we had to leave and take care that nobody would learn of our intrusion. We each decided to take a small memento that would not be missed. The books and the silk scarves were tempting but were sadly off limits. In the end I opted for a small card containing transfers of a rabbit in a hat that could be put on various boxes water jugs and cones. Just something to communicate that you really meant it, that you were serious about this whole magic thing.

I never used them, just placed them in the box with the rest of my magic tricks hoping they would act as a talisman of some sort and just raise the overall class of the stash somewhat as they had belonged to a real magician.

I just didn’t get it

The following year my friend moved town, I watched David Copperfield on television flying across the Grand Canyon towards a singing Bonnie Tyler and promptly packed my box of tricks into storage for good.

I now perform feats of misdirection for my small dog using nothing but a ball

He seems genuinely astounded.

I think I finally got it.

Happy Hunting...

'I Will Rise Up' on Other Mother Podcast

Ramon Galvan's song 'I Will Rise Up' is available streaming on Other Mother Podcast Episode 4

Along with tracks from Us Kids Know, Sticky Antlers and others

Previous podcast have featured Givan Lotz, Ampersand and Kidoddoom.

Visit Other Mother Website here to find out more about them

Post Rock Community Outer Tumbolia Album Review

Ramon Galvan is a featured artist on Post Rock Community music blog

There is is also a review on the blog for Outer Tumbolia

"Each song is a new trip to new targets"

"a voice which reaches every cell in your body"

"postrockish arrangements, tones à la A Silver Mt. Zion, jazzy percussions, melodicas, cellos, glockenspiel, electronic elements and many many more..."

Ingredients

The cast in order of appearence on 'You Flossed the Stars'

when to steer's uncertain

and all objectivity is gone

the only thing to do is run

you want it all you flossed the stars

when to steer's uncertain

and all objectivity is gone


the only thing to do is run

you want it all you flossed the stars



ooooh!
er er er er


aah!

boom boom boom
in his purse he has supernovae


research has shown this is nearly over




Happy Hunting!

Interview in Argus

Expanding the musical horizon October 28, 2009

By Atiyyah Kahn

Righard Kapp and Ramon Galvan are two greatly underrated names on the local music scene.

While not at all similar in sound, they do pose a challenge to anyone comfortable with the idea of "easily digestible music".

Kapp has been playing in bands since high school. Best described as a perfectionist and a conceptualist, he is recognisable by playing a right-handed guitar upside down.

He co-ordinates the annual improvised music festival, On the Edge of Wrong. His earlier musical forays were in ambient guitar music, but he became interested in looping guitars, effects and noise. Once settled in Cape Town, Kapp joined The Buckfever Underground.

On his album Strung Like a Compound Eye, Kapp focuses on acoustic guitar compositions, with a cross-pollination of concepts with artists Ross Campbell, Marcel Van Heerden, Toast Coetzer and Lee Thompson. It is co-produced by producer-engineer Dirk Hugo, whom Kapp compliments: "He really pushed me on areas I needed to work on. He is able to understand abstract concepts and put them into a concrete form."

Galvan is the ex-keyboardist and vocalist for Blackmilk. On hearing his album Outer Tumbolia my reaction was not unlike stumbling upon a secret treasure, as I imagined him hiding in some lair making music in a room full of toys.

His MySpace page describes his music as "guitars trying to sound like kalimbas". Galvan is a self-taught guitarist and has been involved in music since school.

Blackmilk started in the '90s, after sharing a flat with members from Lithium. Galvan says: "I picked up the synthesiser and we made a lot of noise, then we went our separate ways."

The idea of a solo album came about in the early 2000s and Galvan says: "After Blackmilk, I thought about doing something less noisy; more intimate. I taught myself guitar and fiddled around with things like kalimbas and put together a body of work."

Galvan writes songs on guitar, but uses many other instruments - a chandelier, a whistle, a bulbul tarang, an auto-harp and a kraakdoos - to which he shrugs, saying: "Collecting weird instruments is part of my hobby."

Tumbolia refers to the "the land of dead hiccups and extinguished light bulbs". Galvan explains: "It's a reference to where dreams go to when you wake up. There is a sparseness to the album. Some of the songs are strung together with skeletons or ghosts of songs."

Both artists are signed to the Jaunted Haunts Press label, which is headed by Kapp, who also does the artwork for the albums. They spare me a bitch-session about the difficulties of being independent artists and are surprisingly positive about their songs not standing much of a chance of radio play.

Kapp comments: "Radio is a very specific kind of format. They wouldn't playlist it."

In their own ways, these two provide a challenge to the listener, something many musicians don't concern themselves with.

Kapp says: "I think the conversation about challenging music is yet to be started, as there are tons of musicians creating music like this."

Ultimately, it's about educating one's ears and Galvan and Kapp's albums are a good place to start.

http://www.tonight.co.za/index.php?fSectionId=348&fArticleId=5221239

Also 'Trying to Tell (Summer House)' sample stream available on channel24.co.za



The former front man from avant SA rockers Black Milk channels Scott Walker's Drift on this delicate existential blend of arcane folk and bludgeoning menace. Off his debut solo album, 'Outer Tumbolia'.

Keeping good company on the wire(less)

Playlisted on Pseu Braun's show on 16th Oct on WFMU with the likes of Atlas Sound, Robert Wyatt, Tickley Feather, Sun Araw, Mika Vainio, Dodos and the post This Heat, Flaming Tunes!




Playlist online


Update: Bob W's show played 'No Rest' on same day

WFMU-FM is a listener-supported, non-commercial radio station broadcasting at 91.1 Mhz FM in Jersey City, NJ, right across the Hudson from lower Manhattan. It is currently the longest running freeform radio station in the United States.

The station also broadcasts to the Hudson Valley and Lower Catskills in New York, Western New Jersey and Eastern Pennsylvania via its 90.1 signal at WMFU in Mount Hope, NY. The station maintains an extensive online presence at WFMU.ORG which includes live audio streaming in several formats, over 8 years of audio archives, podcasts and a popular blog.


Also made an appearance in-studio, some months back on The Unhappy Hour on Bush Radio 89.5 FM. Righard Kapp and me both. We chatted with Toast who was DJ-ing that night, performed live on-air with our acoustic guitars, played some tunes off our respective albums and played songs from our own favorite CD's. Righard played some Tortoise and Andre Van Rensburg and I played some Linda Perhacs and Francis Bebey, but more about him another time...

Galvan Trio Live at Obz Theatre 26/08/09

Click on images to enlarge







Photos: Alryn Culwick

Miscellaneous Links

An article online in Die Burger culled from an interview with Righard Kapp and Ramon Galvan shortly before both the launch of their respective albums Strung Like a Compound Eye and Outer Tumbolia

"Eintlik is ons die twee skaamste ­dudes in die wêreld"



Elsewhere, Righard is interviewed and reviewed on www.mahala.co.za on his album and the other Jaunted Haunts Press Releases.

"And of course what ties the artists together is an uncompromising dedication to their creative vision."

Music blog The Glass Forest reviews Outer tumbolia here

"This album is nostalgic and modern in one breath - timeless, true, emotional."

"The minimalistic sound of the guitar added by trumpet or other instruments and the dramatical voice lie in front of you like a wide carpet reaching beyond the horizon."

Gosh!

No Rest

No Rest

A sense, calling jest
To see
A note to remind me

No Rest
Too fast here
No Rest

Monographs,
Are all in shreds
Troops have fled

No Rest
No Rest

Promise me

The Rupture

The Rupture

When its cold and dark
I'll field forests
Twos cum in forests

When we're old and gnarled
I'll seek mountains
With wider passes
For turning round








Bitter cold
The first freight, nervous
And similar the ice-breaker

To break this blanket white
And sail on through the night
Or a sign for turning round

The Rupture









When we're young
We'll run circles 'til they come and fetch us
Or carve our names any place they let us
Disguising all our features given
Now I carve a path back home,
to whittle down my feathers
I'm embarressed:
Got a headdress full of daggers











What became of you?
Did you cum at all?
Did you learn to swim when you waded in?

I put these thoughts aside
I'm thankful for the ride
Until the time that we decide

The Rupture

And grey might be
The only shade on sunshine
I see graze the ground
And as grey silvers on,
I told you that I loved you and I never lied

The singer skipped a whole verse
A chasm super wide
A proper bridge would splinter
A banquet would be meager pickings

Did you honestly think you had to read between the lines?
There wasn't enough space to fit whats unsaid in a rhyme
So just be cool and focus on more pleasurable times
And only know I loved you and I never lied




Happy hunting...