1. The CD That Will Forever Change Your Life (Amazon review)

Electric Moroccland/So Below is Mike Rivard’s magnum opus, a quintessential and perfectly balanced work that somehow encompasses the whole of the d’Elf journey on two CDs.

I’ve been a diehard d’Elf fan since 2002 when I inadvertently discovered their live performances through a site called DarkFunk.com, which hosts live Miles Davis recordings from the 60s and 70s. Needless to say I was blown away by what I heard but I wasn’t overpowered. The experience was subtle, gradual and thoroughly engaging. It has greatly influenced me as a jazz pianist and my wife as a tribal fusion belly dancer.

Enthralled from the beginning by the concept and what I was hearing I honed my understanding of the band by downloading a number of shows available at archive.org. I noticed each time a song was performed, the only static element was Rivard’s bass line, all else was subject to the interpretation of the players. This ingenious idea yields a boundless variety of flavors that has managed to keep me intrigued ever since. The fact that Rivard has successfully captured the essence of this evolution on CD is a testament to his personal passion and appreciation for this beautiful intangible thing he has created.

Here was this formless funk infused by a progressive yet minimalistic sensibility and manipulated by the dramatis personae of truly innovative players gathered on any given night. The sound was raw, unrehearsed and beyond the scope of genre. An idiom might be implied by certain instrumentations (trance, jazz, Gnawa, electronica, ambient, drum/bass, funk, blues, et al.) but this wasn’t music for purists. Club d’Elf is a Mecca, an uninhibited haven for musicians of all calibers, influences, religions and ethnicities to express themselves through improvisation and open musical conversation. The music ebbs and flows, sometimes it is vibrant, organic and random while other times it is cold, dark and deterministic. There are layers of dissonance, rhythmic inflection and time signatures that bend the Western mind yet elsewhere the music is lush and soothing, conforming to the mind like cool water. Regardless, at the heart of it all there will always be the mantric groove binding it together.

Part of the genius of Club d’Elf is in the willingness of each player to step forward and command the music, often with a frenetic virtuosity that can challenge the ear of many listeners. However, those same musicians, whose ability and ego work in true tandem then vanish fluidly back into the amorphous soundscape, nudging things gently and in no particular rush (live d’Elf tracks often cross the 30 minute mark). And the perpetually pulsing engine driving this Protean machine is the haunting and unfaltering groove forged by the fingertips of Mike Rivard with Haephestean precision. From his vantage point he stirs the water lazily, giving every idea time to bloom without becoming stagnant.

Electric Moroccoland/So Below tells the story of Club d’Elf if you listen closely. There is the influence of perhaps a prime mover in the d’Elf saga Mark Sandman (Rope on Fire, So Below), who exposed Rivard to Moroccan trance. There is the story of Rivard’s quest to master the sintir and his exploration of Moroccoan styles. On Trance Meeting you will hear samples of Terence McKenna, whose hyper-dimensional elves influenced the name of the band. And then there is the cast of 25 musicians (representing a total cast of nearly 100) who somehow shape the shapeless by impishly evading definition and style. Through d’Elf I’ve learned of players with unique voices like Dave Tronzo (slide guitar), Joe and Matt Maneri (sax and electric viola respectively), DJ Rourke (turntables), Jere Faison (sampler), Paul Schultheis (keys), Alain Mallet (keys) and Brahim Fribgane (oud, percussion) arguably the most influential member of the band. I also recognized many familiar names on the roster like John Medeski (keys), Reeves Gabrels (guitar), DJ Logic (turntables) and Dave “Fuze” Fiuczynski (guitar).

For me personally, the highlights include Scorpionic, Berber Song, Sidi Rabi, Rope on Fire, Middle Pillar, So Below, Salvia and Trance Meeting. By all means, start here with Electric Moroccoland/So Below but don’t stop. Visit archive.org and delve into the innovations a dozen years in the making. Also be sure to check out the other CDs (Now I Understand, Perhapsody, Gravity All Nonsense, Live Athens 3/28/02). -Tommy Smith

2. Indescribably Awesome (eMusic review)

And awesomely indescribable. Either way, this is just an incredible band and this latest release is among their best work. Bassist/sintirist/composer Micro Vard lays such a solid foundation and brings in influences from *everywhere*. I love the Oud work on Ambib and Instar, and Gettin Squinty and So Below are highlights for me on the 2nd disc, but the whole thing flows so well it’s hard to pick tracks. Get the whole thing and put on some headphones, it’s a rewarding trip. 10/10, A+. – Chris Weekly

3. Moroccan Dub Vacation (iTunes review)

The many friends and members of this Moroccan trance band have come up with a double disc that will knock your socks off. Club d’Elf brings in Brahim Fribgane’s oud to the first CD and drops you right in the middle of the streets of Morocco.The second disc, So Below, let’s you slink in the dark shadows with the help of John Medeski and DJ Logic and many other talented musicians. This double disc will show you how d’elves do it, with swirling jazz to bubbling dub, they shimmer in the darkness. Don’t pass this richly layered studio album up!
-Jason Snyder

Thanks, guys. Ladies?

Strange lights have been seen coming out the work shop at all hours, and a low, steady thrum has been emanating deep into the night from the subterranean lair of the elves, as the final preparations for the birth of Electric Moroccoland/So Below are made.

On April 5, 2011 the band will release it’s tenth CD, and first on its own label, Face Pelt. Not content with merely ONE album, the release consists of TWO complete albums, with D’Elf Does Maghreb on Electric Moroccoland, and So Below representing the sample-heavy, DJ & electronica-driven side of the band’s sound. Primarily instrumental in nature, there are also vocal turns by Gnawa music legend Hassan Hakmoun on Electric Moroccoland, singing the Cream classic “Sunshine Of Your Love” in Moroccan Arabic as D’Elf gives the tune a decided North African slant, as well as D’Elf’s own oud maestro Brahim Fribgane singing his haunting “Sidi Rabi”; and dubbed-out & psychedelicized versions of blues & spirituals “Pharaoh” & “I Wish I Was In Heaven Sitting Down” from the field recordings of Alan Lomax, sung by Boston roots rocker David Johnston featured on So Below.

The band pays tribute to inspirations from all corners, including seminal Moroccan band Nass El Ghiwane (“Ghir Khoudouni” on EM), Berber musician Hadj Belaid (“Ambib” on EM), Squarepusher (“End of Firpo” on SB), psychedelic avatar Terence McKenna (“Trance Meeting” on SB) and Morphine (“Rope On Fire” on EM). Special guests abound, with John Medeski appearing on many tracks, as well as DJ Logic, Duke Levine, Dave Tronzo, ex-Bowie guitarists Reeves Gabrels and Gerry Leonard, Ghanaian master drummer Dolsi-naa Abubakari Lunna, XTC drummer Dave Mattacks, John Brown’s Body drummer Tommy B, Dana Colley and the late Mark Sandman of Morphine, in some of his last studio performances before his death. D’Elf regulars Erik Kerr, Dean Johnston, Mister Rourke, Alain Mallet, Tom Hall, Jerry Leake, Paul Schultheis & bassist/leader Mike Rivard are amongst a roster of over 25 musicians who appear on the 25 tracks (150 min of music!). Artist Doug Sirois (who did the cover art for Now I Understand) returns with yet another stunning cover image, and the sounds were captured by long time D’Elf audio engineers Randy Roos & Tom Dube.

Produced by Rivard and recorded over a period spanning 11 years and in over a dozen studios, it represents the true D’Elf Manifesto, with the band’s take on the myriad types of trance music – Moroccan gnawa, dub, hip hop, psychedelic rock, jazz & electronica – fully realized and glowing like a red-hot charcoal from the fire sizzling in your lap. Publicity for the CD and subsequent tour is being handled by Rock, Paper, Scissors, with radio promo handled by Powderfinger Promotions. A string of east coast April tour dates w/ Medeski joining the band can be found on the Shows page. The touring band will consist of Medeski, Brahim Fribgane, Mister Rourke, Mike Rivard & Dean Johnston, with special guests along the way including Hassan Hakmoun, Dave Fiuczynski, Steven Bernstein, Duke Levine, Dave Tronzo & more.

This is an exciting chapter in the annals of D’Elf and we look forward to taking many a face pelt along the way, be it live audience or over the airwaves and interwebs. Tell your friends and enemies alike that the spaceship is a-comin’!

Micro & Hassan in NYC circa 2004 (or was it 2005?)

I had heard some of Hassan Hakmoun‘s music in the mid-90′s, courtesy of a Boston world music radio show which played a few tracks off of his ’93 release Trance, but it wasn’t until my late friend Mark Sandman played me Gift Of The Gnawa, that I was truly smitten by his sound. North African music, and particularly the music of the Gnawa (Gnaoua), the mystical sufi brotherhood who were brought to Morocco as slaves from sub-Saharan Africa 500 years ago, was already something that resonated considerably with me. Being a bass player, I was drawn to the sound of the sintir (also known as guembri, or hajhouj), the 3 gut-stringed bass lute that is central to the music of the Gnawa. I had been listening to the Bill Laswell produced album Night Spirit Masters and unidentified cassettes with other Gnawa music for a few years by then, but something in Hassan’s playing and singing drew me in that day like few things in my life had before. I insisted that Mark let me borrow the CD, and reluctantly he agreed, though only with my promise that I would return it immediately upon his return from the upcoming Morphine tour. I took it home, had a smoke, and laid on the couch for hours as I played it over, and over, and over again, absolutely mesmerized. I made a vow that day that I would someday find a sintir and learn to play it, and would make it my life’s goal to endeavor to make music like this – music that transcended time and space, music that was tapped into something much greater than merely the person playing it, and that had a mystical quality with the power to heal. I also began a love affair with the music of Hassan Hakmoun.

Generally speaking, in Gnawa music the sintir is the main instrument and is accompanied by the metal castanets called qarakeb. The ma’aleem sings the lead and plays the sintir, joined by a chorus of response singers and clappers. One of the things that made this CD stand out from the other Gnawa music that I had heard was that drums (tablas & congas played by Adam Rudolph) were featured, and the interplay with Hassan’s sintir was some of the coolest shit ever, at times being difficult to tell who was doing what. In addition to strumming the strings, the sintir is slapped like a drum when played, the top of the instrument being made of camel skin. The way that Hassan and Adam played off of each other had me saying “Damn!” again and again. Don Cherry played pocket
trumpet on a couple of tracks and Richard Horowitz played the ney on a couple of others. Together with the sound of Hassan’s amazing voice the effect was nothing short of hypnotic, simultaneously sounding both incredibly modern and timeless.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQfShODZnwQ&feature=related]
Over time I sought out all of the music I could find of his. Though all of it is worth checking out, I was drawn to the music closest to the tradition which was mostly acoustic in nature, especially his CDs Life Around The World and The Fire Within. Eventually I met and became friends with Hassan’s bandmate, Brahim Fribgane, the great oud player and percussionist, and he began to play with my band Club d’Elf. Through working with Brahim and hanging out with him and his friends at places like Moroccan Bazaar in Cambridge (sadly, now gone) & Gates Of Marrakech in NYC, I furthered my immersion in the sublime music of Morocco, and at last got to meet Hassan himself. I had acquired a sintir of my own by this time, and Hassan was very gracious in offering some tips and help, though I was never able to muster the courage to ask for a formal lesson. Learning music in the western sense of “taking a lesson” seems foreign to this music, which is passed on mostly through oral tradition. What I learned came from Brahim (who was as close to a teacher as I got), and from drinking tea & hanging out with Hassan and the other Moroccans, who were about the easiest-to-hang with people as one could hope to meet, taking a delight in the finer things in life that was most infectious.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBxTRcdUNU0&feature=related]
Every chance I get to see Hassan play is a reminder of how great music can be when the performer gives his or herself up to some greater power, and I have witnessed people go into trances even in the club atmospheres where I have seen him play. Experiencing him playing for an all-night Lila ceremony in Morocco… THAT is something I hope to see before I leave this earth, in’shallah.

-Micro

i am, as anyone who knows me will attest to, a bit of a horror movie aficionado. i love ‘em all: cheesy, classic, gory, leave-it-to-the-imagination, new, old, big budget, low budget…bring ‘em on. not too much into bland slasher flicks, and the eli roth/new school of “torture porn” leaves me feeling kind of dirty and sullied, but everything else is pretty much right up my strasse. here are some suggestions for you to consider here at hallowe’en time:

Donnie Darko (2001) – a no brainer. if you haven’t seen it already, make sure you look for the original, NON-director’s cut. trust us on this. this is one of my all-time favorite movies, and i will watch it again and again. and again.

The Descent (2005)- UK film directed by neil marshall who also did a good werewolf movie called Dog Soldiers. the descent slayed me. saw it first in the theater with the original US ending (not so good), and then later on dvd w/ the original UK ending (much creepier). plays on archetypal fears of darkness, being trapped in confined spaces, and being consumed by cannibalistic, cave-dwelling, humaniod creatures. 6 buff, outdoorsy women go spelunking in an unchartered cave, and these ladies are no bimbos, but rather kick-ass climbers with great personalities. so when things begin to go wrong (and they go VERY wrong), you really feel for them. gives me chills just thinking about it.

Night Of The Demon (1957) – also known as Curse Of the Demon. features a totally non-cheesy monster for the time, and a great story about an aleister crowley-type black magician who conjures up a demon to smite his critics, and as someone who also has to deal with “critics”, i must admit i wish i could do the same sometimes. watch this one and then check out our track Hungry Ghosts from NIU. hmmmm…

The Evil Dead (1981) – an old favorite. sam raimi’s first, done w/ some help by the coen brothers. low, low budget but oh-so good. what happens when some young kids rent a cottage in the woods, find a dusty copy of the necronomicon along with a taped translation, and raise ancient evil from the woods. it’s hard when your girlfriend becomes a pencil-wielding ghoul and you have to dismember her. great claymation effects and the awesome talents of bruce campbell. if you’re in the boston area check out the latest The Dig for a hilarious rant by a disgruntled movie-goer who had to contend with some drunken frat boys at a recent showing at the coolidge corner moviehouse.

The Dunwich Horror (1970) – based on a story by H.P. Lovecraft, and we love us some HPL. pretty bad movie, but has nostalgic value for your humble narrator, as i first saw it on a hallowe’en night when i was about 10, and was enthralled by the psychedelic effects used to represent yog sothoth, the eater-of-souls, he your basic invisible space god. also the sight of bare female breasts in the orgy scenes was quite a treat for a young lad, and must have escaped the fun-killing eyes of the censors. plus it has dean stockwell totally over the top in the lead role as wilbur whately. nice.

Equinox (1970) – another blast from the past, first seen around the same time as the dunwich horror, and with a plot similar to the evil dead: bunch of kids in the woods find a copy of the necronomicon and – you guessed it – call forth nameless forces of ancient evil. features frank bonner from wkrp cincinnati and has some great stop-motion effects, ala ray harryhausen. for some reason this movie just really scared me, and my sister, too.

Dawn Of The Dead (1978) – forget the remake. the original is unbeatable for mood and social commentary and – for the time – good gore effects, c/o tom savini, who also plays a cycle gang member. also stars ken foree who we loved in From The Beyond (am i geeking out here or what?). directed by the great george romero and filmed -as were/are all of his films – in pittsburgh. will never get that shot of the zombie husband taking a chomp out of his wife’s arm out of my head…oooh, that HAD to hurt.

The Funhouse (1981) – i can’t quite explain why this movie has become fodder for my nightmares, but the mutant geek who terrorizes the lovely elizabeth berridge and her 3 friends after hours in a carnival funhouse just shows up quite frequently in my dreams and scares the sh*t out of me. dude, this monster will freak you out, i am so serious.

The Tingler (1959) – starring vincent price as a doctor doing studies in fear, and includes possibly the earliest cinematic portrayal of an acid trip! william castle directed, and coming from vaudeville as he did every picture had to have a gimmick. the gimmick for this one? Percepto: certain seats in theaters would be wired to give an electrical charge to the unwitting patron, eliciting shrieks of pain! ah, the glory days of pre-osha. this movie inspired 2 club d’elf tunes!

Freaks (1932) – what can one say about this classic? it was diane arbus’s favorite movie. it features REAL circus freaks and totally was too much for people at the time, who could not handle physically deformed actors being used. it’s still too much for some folks. tod browning directed this a year after he did Dracula w/ bela Lugosi. he died the month and year i was born and i have often wondered if his soul found it’s way into my body. gooba gabba, one of us, one of us!

and speaking of Dracula (1931), you can’t go wrong with those old Universal flicks, esp. Son Of Frankenstein (1938). so put some of these on your netflix queue and add some new twists to your nightmares.

Dark Ride (2006) – this one i watched on the recommendation of erik kerr, which is so awesome…christian minister who loves extreme horror movies. gotta love it, and him. it features Jamie-Lynn Sigler from the Sopranos (no…she doesn’t get naked). it was exactly the way he said it would be. the scene where the psycho killer in the mental hospital puts his fist – holding a flashlight – through the chest of one of his captors, allowing the horrified face of his friend to be viewed from the gaping cavity…wow. that’s some quality film-making right there. this would make a good double bill with The Funhouse, which the astute reader might recall was one of our recommendations last year. that one…i don’t know…it just really freaked me out and has found it’s way into me nightmares, har.

also burrowing into my head and taking up residence in nightmare land are rob zombies pair of horror offerings, House of 1000 Corpses (2003) & The Devil’s Rejects (2005). both are flawed but damn if that family of cannibalistic rednecks hasn’t shown up in my dreams more times than i would care to have them. sid haig is one of the greats of B movies, having of course starred in one of our all-time weird movie faves, Spider Baby (1968), and in both he portrays the lecherous and murderous clown, captain spaulding. don’t get me started on clowns. thanks to mister rourke for riding my case until i finally sat down and watched ‘em.

Suspiria (1977) – written and directed by Dario Argento. i watched this one quite a bit a few years ago when hanging out with john medeski & scotty hard at shacklyn, playing on their suspiria project. rats running around the place only helped to make the atmosphere more appropriate. the soundtrack is by argento’s band Goblin, who we happen to pay tribute to with a track from Perhapsody called Goblin Garden, which you can hear on our myspace. also, i forgot to mention one of the best scenes from Freaks: there’s a guy called prince randi, who is only a torso – no arms, no legs. grizzled popeye-type face, and at one point he rolls, lights, and smokes a cigarette, all without the use of any limbs, just his mouth! it’s NUTS! watch it!

though i haven’t yet seen the US remake, the original swedish Let The Right One In (2008) is one of the creepiest and original vampire movies i have ever seen. wow, it gives me shivers just thinking of the lighting in the woods as the hiker is hoisted up for draining…wow.

happy hallowe’en ya’ll!

-monster micro

Elizabeth Jean Rivard

I wrote this homage to my mother a month ago and decided not to post it, as it seemed a bit too personal and I’m not a wear-his-heart-on-his-sleeve kind of guy. Then today in the course of sorting and packing up D’Elf HQ in prep for a move across the river, I found amongst the myriad of accumulations of a pack-rat musician (who has seen the error of his ways and is cured, praise god – CURED!) a ticket stub for the event i went to the night of her death on Sat 3/31/90 – “Jazz, Culture and the Cosmos: A Lecture By Sun Ra“. I took it as a sign, and on top of this feeling that’s been mounting of late, a feeling of sober and somewhat world-weary sadness, brought about in part by news of the havoc the Gulf oil spill is creating on the environment and the incomprehensible inability to deal with it effectively; not to mention the Tennessee floods which caused so many musicians to lose their precious instruments…well, I decided to post it. I don’t flatter myself that many read this anyway, so for the few who do here is the story…

The human capacity for learning to live with loss and somehow get on with one’s life was on my mind this past Earth Day, which also happens to be my mother Elizabeth’s birthday. The 20th anniversary of her death passed recently and she had been in my thoughts much of late, not surprisingly. What better way to honor both her memory and the spirit of the day than a trip to the Arnold Arboretum in Jamaica Plain? I loaded my upright bass into the car and, aware of the irony of the carbon footprint I was leaving by driving, and hoping to compensate for it by playing some pretty music for the birds and the bees, I headed out.

Micro at The Spot, 2000/2001? Photo by Francesca

There is a spot I have been going to for 10 years now in the Peter’s Hill section of the Arboretum. A little secluded meadow which has become, in warmer weather, my private practice space. Thanks to climate change, my visits there start earlier in the season, and last year went into November after which it was too cold to bring the bass out. The weather this day – April 22 – was fickle, with the sun playing hide and seek behind the clouds and thunderstorms imminent. It’s a great pleasure of mine to witness the changes that occur in this little spot over the course of the season and on a larger scale over the course of years I have gone there. Watching the buds form and bloom and eventually die, and the cyclical nature of the migratory cycles of the various birds that come and go. Last year several Baltimore orioles hung out about a week or so transfixing me with their beautiful song. I tried to emulate it and eventually got pretty close so that I convinced myself that I was in musical dialogue with the birds. You never know.

Micro and bass at The Spot, May 2010. Photo by Ted Bradford

Mostly my time there is private and uninterrupted, as it’s off the beaten path. Occasionally a hiker or someone walking their dog will come by, and a photo student named Francesca stumbled upon me there, and me and my bass became the subject of her school project. Most recently a guy named Ted came by taking pictures of the many birds who frequent the spot, and we had a nice talk about the birds he had seen recently. My mother was an avid ornothologist and would have loved this place, I’m sure. I improvised a little song for her and practiced for about 45 minutes or so before the first drops of rain were felt. Packing up the bass I stowed it in the car and headed for the lilacs, another of her favorite things. The Arnold Arboretum is, of course, renowned for its lilac collection and on this weekday afternoon with darkening skies and ominous thunder in the distance, I had the place pretty much to myself.

I sat under a tree on the hill above lilac row and watched lightning crackling in the heavens while a male cardinal settled in the bushes nearby. Elizabeth’s favorite bird, and a clear sign that she was there with me. The rain started to fall harder then, feeling so good on my skin as I lay there in the grass missing her. And then the clouds in the sky behind me parted and brilliant rays of the sun cut through while the sky in front was as dark as a stormy sea. The light took on that quality of luminescence where everything is bathed in an otherworldly glow and remained that way for what seemed an eternity but was actually minutes. The closest I can describe it is it feels like you have woken up in a dream, just one of those perfect moments where all is still and time ceases. It was so heart achingly beautiful tears streamed down my face and I gave thanks for this opportunity to connect with her, and to feel her presence so strongly.

As I walked back through the empty park to my car I thought of my friends and collaborators in Club d’Elf who have lost parents in the last year or so. Erik Kerr’s mom most recently, Brahim Fribgane’s father, Mat Maneri’s father Joe who was the elder statesman of d’Elf. In the sort of gallows humor that musicians of our ilk tend towards, I have laughed about shared membership in the Dead Moms Club with Tronzo, Reeves and Paul Schultheis, all of whom have lost their mothers in recent years. Wry jokes somehow make the pain more bearable, with laughter more preferable than its alternative.

I thought of my broheems and hoped that they all find ways to connect with their dead parents the way that I have been fortunate to with Elizabeth. She made it easy for me with her love of birds and nature, for merely by going outside I can feel her. It has brought me comfort to do so and I hoped for that comfort to be theirs as well.

I also came away from that special afternoon with a renewed commitment to the Club d’Elf studio project that had become bogged down for various reasons and had led to a dark period of my feeling I could never get it out. I inherited from my Mother and her Celtic heritage not only a sensitive, artistic sensibility and appreciation for the odd, the strange & the weird – “the other”, but also a predilection towards perfectionism and “the blues”. Having spent years and countless hours on this recording, not to mention more money than i could hope to recoup, and having already finished the “music” part, I still found myself unable to bring it to fruition. The lack of anything to show for my efforts – not to mention the stasis it created for the band by not having anything “new” to show to the world and to be attractive to promoters & the folks in the biz, had really put me into a funk, and not the Bootsy variety. I needed to finish this for many reasons, not the least of which being that it would be fitting to honor our parents with the music created by those they brought into the world. Thanks in part to generous donations from several fans, and a grant from the Iguana Music Fund, as well as my having made some money from a recent gig in the Broadway show world, it seems that it can be a reality. Dos will be dedicated to them, and actually now has a release date: Oct 19, 2010.

Berber musicians outside of Tiznit, Dec '09

Dreams have always been an obsession of mine, and my “dream” has always been to go to Morocco. It’s not surprising then that my first night in Morocco I had an amazing dream, one for the ages really. A lucid dream, and one of the most powerful I’ve had. From my journal of 12/18/09:

… tiled patio, very elfin. I wander off by myself and a voice tells me, “you are dreaming”. Awake within the dream I waste no time and immediately try to fly. Jumping into the air I kind of stick there, as if suspended in some kind of thick matter. Using my arms in a swimming fashion to take me higher, I have to fight at first as if gravity were slowly giving way but not without a struggle. I swim laboriously through the air but gradually get my dream wings on and slowly gather speed. I fly to the treetops, aware that I have limited time before I lose my lucidity, so I have to strike while the iron is hot.

I am aware that I have been afforded the chance to view all of Morocco, or as much as I can before I lose hold of the lucidity. I head up toward the clouds, exhilarated to be able to do this. Amazing and splendid vistas of mountains and deserts and tiled buildings greet my eyes as I fly fast and far, the whole country laid out before me for my eyes to feast upon. It’s all coming at me so fast – vivid and colorful and intense and rushing into my cerebral cortex at a speed that is impossible to process. Like a video game that expires when the coin runs out, at last everything begins to wind down and my thoughts are, “I am losing it – it is going away!” That sad feeling of the circus leaving town pervades me, but passes and is replaced by a deep gratefulness. Choukran!

Orientation meeting at Tiznit Cultural Center, 12/19/09 w/ Mayor Joe Curtatone & the Governor of Tiznit

Thanks to an appearance I made on SCAT TV where I played sintir and spoke of my connection to Moroccan music, I received a scholarship through the kind auspices of Somerville Mayor Joe Curtatone’s office. Big up to Janice, his assistant, who pulled some strings for me. Along with about 25 other participants in the University of the Middle East’s CPLI program I went to Tiznit, Morocco in mid-December. I would represent the musical side of the delegation and work with some local musicians, which I greatly anticipated.

Typical architecture outside of Tiznit, Dec '09

After arriving I soon learned how challenging it would be to move this Leviathan of a group around from point to point, difficult enough with 40-50 people (when joined by the Moroccan participants) and made especially tricky by that pervasive aspect of “Moroccan time”. It was a fine bunch of folks, however, and for the most part everyone handled the constant delays with humor and aplomb. The phrase that one hears repeated a thousand times a day is “in’shallah” or “if God wills it”. This is a very important philosophy to grasp in order to understand life in Morocco. It can be used as an excuse for “maybe I’ll show up, maybe not”, an aspect that pissed off Omar, who was the one Moroccan in the Somerville office of the UME. For the most part, though, it conveyed a sense of submitting to forces greater than oneself and accepting whatever happens as being part of a Divine Plan that doesn’t always take into consideration our petty human desires and concerns.

Blue door, Tiznit, Dec '09

After a travel day of more than 24 hours we were treated to the first of what would become de rigueur huge feasts, most lasting three hours or more. There was no such thing as a “quick bite”. Unfortunately, the luggage of “Mr. The Mayor” (as he would good-naturedly be referred to, poking gentle fun at his interpreter) didn’t make it. Word had preceded our arrival at the hotel and a new suit was made for him, the first example of the royal treatment that he and the whole group would receive. Police escort, anyone?

Woman's Cooperative giving workshop on making Argan Oil, Tiznit, Dec '09

Tiznit has a population of about 54,000 and is an old, walled medina town south of the Souss Valley and beyond the western end of the Anti-Atlas. I had been hearing about this town, sister city of Somerville, through my friends Ahmed and Latifa who live in Cambridge. They connected me with relatives in Tiznit who would prove shining examples of Moroccan hospitality.

Visiting a local artist's studio in Tiznit, Dec '09

The Hotel Idou Tiznit would be our home away from home for the week and it was quite lovely. The days began early and ended late, and sleep was sacrificed in pursuit of fitting everything in. The purpose of the trip was to establish cultural and civic bonds between the cities and to share experiences unique to each. To this end we visited schools and other sites, and as part of the artist group (along with Cynthia, David and Pauline, three visual artists from Brickbottom Studios) I visited artists’ studios and took part in the creation of a mural with some young students, one of whom spied my sintir and ended up rocking it for a long time, quite the aspiring maalem, he.

Spontaneous sintir jam at high school site visit in Tiznit, Dec '09

I was partnered with a couple of teachers who also happened to be musicians – Idris and Brahim. Both were the warmest, hippest, and most generous cats you could hope to meet. And funny. I count amongst my favorite times the late-night hangs that Idris organized, when we headed deep into the medina for smoky jams in the tiny studio of his artist friend. Everyone was very supportive and encouraging of this white guy from Boston who played the guimbri. It was kind of strange to be playing this indigenous instrument that I had spent countless hours attempting to master back in the US – now in Morocco, playing it for people whom you can’t fool. My education had stepped up to the next level… (to be continued)

Mural project at Tiznit high school, Dec '09

Brahim in Truro, MA Oct '04

Think of a bar of 12/8, meaning there are 12 eighth notes to the bar. Now divide that 12 into 4 groups of 3 notes. Imagine someone clapping on the first beat of each group of 3, four to a bar so we will end up with claps on 1, 4, 7 & 10. Now imagine the 3rd note of the group of 12 gets a high pitch (call it “tick”). Same with beat 8, another “tick”. Beats 5 & 11 get a low pitch – call it “dum”. Or “doom” if you prefer. Notice that NONE of these falls on any of the strong beats – 1, 4, 7 or 10. Now take away those downbeats and it gets interesting. The western brain (at least mine) when first presented with this rhythm without the aid of the clapped downbeats hears the low pitched accents – the “dooms” – as downbeats. Only they’re not. Thus you have the mystery of the Moroccan chaabi, which translates roughly as “popular” (there’s a whole style of music called Chaabi), which for me was like being introduced into a secret society, and i’ve always been interested in secret societies, going way back to reading Robert Anton Wilson‘s Illuminatus Trilogy. Unless you have a Moroccan around to provide the missing downbeats you’re floating in space, dude. But when the secret handshake is performed and you begin to hear what the rhythm actually is…aha, we have a whole new smoke, my ba-rutha.

We recorded a live track at a Lizard Lounge show in May of ’08 which based on this rhythm, and is part of our upcoming release Electric MoroccoLand (due late winter 2010). It was an improv (now titled Brahim Runs The Chaabi Down), and as with most of the stuff Club d’Elf does, it doesn’t adhere too formally to any one thing, so it’s not strictly a chaabi. But you can hear it in the accents that Dean plays on drums and Brahim on cajon, as well in the bass, which btw has alligator clips attached to the strings, giving it that weird, percussive sound. To hear this track go to our Myspace profile, which is probably the first time you’ve gone onto Myspace in awhile, we know. But that’s where you’ll have to go for now until I get the upgrade from WordPress and can upload mp3s here.

D'Elf w/ Vicente Lebron, Dave Fiuczynski & Micro at Lizard Lounge

Ahmed, Brahim, Aziz, Latifa & Micro in Truro, Oct '04

More fun with Moroccan music to come, as I prepare for my trip to Morocco, and then a lot more once I’m there and back. Choukran to my Moroccan peeps for opening me up to this mind-meltingly wonderful and sensual world of rhythm.

Salam,

Micro

Micro on sintir @ Lizard Lounge

Brahim in Truro, MA 10/04

Micro & Hassan in NYC circa '04?

It’s been a looooong time coming, but I am finally going to Morocco. I still can’t quite believe it’s going to happen, and won’t really believe it until I step foot on Moroccan soil. I know that’s just my dark, can’t-get-too-exited-about-things side, and it’s tempered by my giddy, can’t-believe-my-good-fortune-holy-fucking-shit! side. This will be the culmination of a long love affair between me and this magical country that has its roots in hanging out with Mark Sandman at his Norfolk St loft (Hi-N-Dry mach 2) in the mid-90s and listening to Hassan Hakmoun‘s Gift Of The Gnawa while sharing a smoke. We marveled at the sound of the sintir, a 3-stringed bass lute with a camel-skin top that Mr Hakmoun was literally spanking the shit out of…wow. These roots deepened considerably several years later in ’99 when I met and became friends with Brahim Fribgane, an incredible oud player and percussionist who was living in NYC at the time but originally came from Casablanca.

Brahim moved to Boston and joined Club d’Elf and became my roommate. With his tutelage I began to learn the intricacies of Moroccan music, which involved he and I sitting in my car on long drives to gigs or rehearsals and listening to cassettes of Berber and Gnawa music and me trying to find where “the one” was. In much Moroccan music there is no “one”, the place of emphasis where in Western music we begin counting the rhythm. “The one” is usually accented or emphasized in some way, but in Moroccan rhythms such as the chaabi the accent is on an upbeat and if listened to with Western ears such as mine, this upbeat becomes “the one”, only it ain’t. With Brahim’s patient help I would continually clap where I felt the beat, and he would invariably laugh and clap the true “one”, which was an eighth note or two away from mine. It was maddening, but I was so into it that I just kept at it, over and over, and began a process of self-brainwashing, where I would intellectually “know” where “the one” should be, and would clap that, fighting against the pull of where I was actually hearing it. At last it was like the aural equivalent of the visual phenomena of letting your eyes go out of focus while looking at something until it takes on a 3-D quality. When this happened, it was…a-mazing. Everything became clear in that instant, only to be lost soon again. Like long-distance running I just kept at it until I could go for longer stretches without losing “the one”. I don’t know how Brahim restrained himself from strangling me…I would not have been so relaxed if I were him.

For several years from about ’00 to 03 I hung out with Brahim at his friend Abder’s store in North Cambridge called Moroccan Bazaar, now sadly gone. We would sit and drink tea and play and listen to music til all hours with all the Moroccans who would come by, as the store’s basement was a favorite after hours spot. I finally acquired a sintir when Abder, brought one back for me from a trip to Morocco to purchase merchandise for the store. With tips from Brahim and the Gnawa musicians who I met through him (including my hero Hassan Hakmoun) I set about learning to play this profound instrument, and began to incorporate it into the music that Club d’Elf was playing, which increasingly was becoming more and more influenced by Moroccan sources.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ps6jP83MR5Q]

Flash forward to several months ago when I first learned of an organization called the University of the Middle East, which as it turns out in kind of a weird synchronicity, is located in the Armory in Somerville, the home of Hi-N-Dry and The Mark Sandman Music Project. Puzzling evidence. The UME are an NGO who are seeking to create links between cultures, and to that end had initiated a sister city program between Somerville, MA and Tiznit, Morocco. A delegation of people from Somerville, lead by Mayor Curtatone was going to Morocco and were accepting applications from teachers, educators, artists & musicians. Naturally I applied, and to my delight I was eventually accepted, but the cost of the trip was going to be too prohibitive for me to go. Oh well. They seemed confident that some grants might come through and asked me in the meantime to appear with them on a local cable public access show where they would discuss the trip. I would speak about my connection to Moroccan music and play a little sintir. Ok, I said. Well, the powers that be apparently saw the show and were impressed and a few days later I was notified that funding for me to go had been received. I…would…go…to…Morocco.

I’ll fill in more of the details in posts to come, as well as more of the back story. Gotta get ready for a gig tonight, so this will have to do for now.

Keeping it on the “and of one”

-Micro

11.28.09

P.S. This documentary on Sandman looks very promising. Watch the longer trailer on Vimeo…so cool to see the home movies of him as kid….

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITIrSHxYaOQ]

8.14.09 Lizard D'Elf w/ (L to R) Vicente Lebron, Paul Schulthies, Mike Rivard, Mister Rourke, Randy Roos & Dean Johnston

So Below: clubdelf.com/mp3/SoBelowMedley.mp3

Cover art is being created by Doug Sirois (www.dougsirois.com). who did the stunning work for Now I Understand. A.Minor (www.myspace.com/allbrightmoments) is creating the logo for our new label, Face Pelt. She also created a stunning Limited Edition 11th Anniversary Poster autographed by the band. This is an extremely limited edition run of only 70 prints, each signed by the artist A.Minor and the following musicians:

Micro Vard (Mike Rivard), John Medeski, Erik Kerr, Brahim Fribgane, Mister Rourke, The Dux (Dean Johnston), Dave Tronzo, Randy Roos, Paul Schultheis, Tom Hall, Jerry Leake, Mat Maneri, Duke Levine, Fuze (David Fiuczynski), Geoff Scott, Alain Mallet, Matt Kilmer, Vicente Lebron & Danny Blume.

Proceeds from sales go towards completion funds for Dos.

D’Elf plays visionary artist Alex Grey’s new Chapel of Sacred Mirrors Art Sanctuary in upstate NY on Hallowe’en, and as anyone familiar with the band knows, D’Elf is ALL about Hallowe’en! This should be a most memorable evening and details can be found on the Shows page

Leader Mike Rivard has been honing his skills on the Moroccan sintir, and recently posted a couple of videos on Youtube:

Shipibo Sintir
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RiaqyeH-T20&feature=related

Candlelit Sintir in David Lynch Room
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ps6jP83MR5Q&feature=related…

-micro (updated 10/22/09)

I became one of the moths who were attracted to Joe’s ever-burning flame and began to spend as much time as i could at his Framingham home, which seemed to be a never-ending hang, where folks drank coffee and talked about music and played music at all hours of the day and night. His lovely wife Sonja would bustle about, taking care of the real world,  like was everyone fed and watered, and leaving Joe to his more otherworldly one, one of spirit and  holy communion with the ineffable. His laugh was just about the most glorious sound I had ever heard, and it would ring loud and clear and often. And that voice of his…as classic as Miles or Satchmo or Orson Welles. He took me under his wing as he did all of the other bright-eyed moths, and I was honored to be asked to play in his group along with Mat and drummer Randy Peterson. It was the most challenging musical environment I had yet experienced, and remains to this day some of my deepest, take-me-out-of-my-comfort-zone music lessons. I can’t say I “killed it”, but I tried to keep up with him and endeavored to absorb all of the information that flowed out of him like lava from Mt Maneri.

Over the years I spent a lot of time at his house, rehearsing with Mat for Natraj or Persona or later on, House of Brown (in which I first met D’Elf drummer-to-be Erik Kerr), and though I wasn’t playing with Joe’s group any longer I would still linger after hours for a “Joe hang”. He would usually come down to the basement to check out what us youngsters were up to and make comments and suggestions, many of which would just leave us with our mouths hanging open, trying to comprehend the profundities and idiosyncratic logic that was his and only his. I fried the cones of a lot of speakers in that basement and popped many a blister on my fingers, mostly due to Joe’s cajoling and insatiable energy. With one of his many horns in hand, he would always be ready to sit in and coax us to try and keep up with him. I couldn’t believe how lucky Mat was to have such a hip dad, though for him it was no big deal, just Joe being Joe.

Joe was all about Love. Love, and Soul, if the two are actually different. He wanted you to play with soul rather than control, although the highest thing one could aspire to was soul control. As lofty and spiritual as he could be (and he was a deeply religious man) he always had an air of utter unpretentiousness about him. He was as earthy and real as could be, at the same time being entirely unreal, like some star stuff come to earth for a time and made, for a brief time, into human form. It seemed as if his body was never his friend, but the twinkle in his eyes belied any difficulties his mortal form may have given him.

When I finally got around to putting a band of my own together years later and Club d’Elf emerged out of the black mists of chaos, I started trying to figure out a way to get Joe involved. Mat had been playing with the band from the beginning and was open to bringing his Dad down, so we finally hooked it up for a show at the Lizard Lounge. Anyone who has seen the band knows that I do a lot of conducting, using hand gestures and signals as a way of directing the players through the music and cueing parts, but with Joe there was nothing i could do, or would want to do. How could i put myself in the position of trying to direct this man, who with eyes closed and horns to lip or voice unfettered and calling to the spirits, was deeper into the zone than i could ever hope to be? I relinquished any control I had over the music and would, along with the other players,  just ride the wave that he created. The other players understood  Joe’s unique place in the pantheon, him being the spiritual grandfather of the band and deserving of the respect one pays to the Elders.

This video was shot at our first trip to NYC, when D’Elf played the Knitting Factory on 4/20/00. John Medeski had been a student of Joe’s at New England Conservatory in the mid 80′s and held Joe in great esteem. I knew that they had never played together since John’s graduation, and I looked forward to making this happen and witnessing the magic that would occur when these two finally got to play together. Mat, Brahim Fribgane, Erik Kerr & myself filled out the rest of the band and the show went so well that we ended up releasing it a few years later on Kufala Recordings. Joe’s vocalizing in this scene from the song Jungle Adagio never ceases to give me chills. Even when not playing Joe still lead the charge, always being totally present in the moment and tuned into some deep energetic source. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3aXBwJw8D58&feature=related]

This one came from a couple of years later when we played the last gig of a tour that took us down as far as Atlanta, at the Mercury Lounge in NYC on 3/31/02. The touring band of Medeski, Mat, Brahim, Mister Rourke, Eric Kalb & myself were joined for this show by Joe, something we had all been looking forward to during the run. Brahim had taught us a Gnawa song called Challaban, and Joe added his tenor stylings to the mix.[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YF5TZoq2R7k&feature=related]

Two of my favorite memories of Joe:

In late ’99 I got it into my head that a nice line-up of the band would include then-David Bowie guitarist Reeves Gabrels along with Joe and Mat. Joe and Reeves had never met and probably never heard each other’s music (although Mat was a big Bowie fan and Joe may have heard some sounds wafting through the house), and while on paper it looked kind of unlikely, with the Rock Star guitarist playing with the Microtonal Mad Man, but that show yielded some amazing music. Some of it wound up on our first CD, As Above: Live At The Lizard Lounge, with the last track called Divine Invasion. It was an improvisation that Joe began as i ended was to be the final tune of the night. Joe didn’t think so apparently, and launched into a soliloquy on his clarinet, joined after a minute or two by Mat. Their duet gradually gave way to the whole band joining in, and the energy rose into a crescendo of heart-aching beauty and intensity, and then just as quickly died away into silence, with the final sound being Joe’s laugh. I will always treasure that moment.

On one of the occasions that we played Club Helsinki (which sadly closes this Monday) in Great Barrington, Joe joined a band that also included Mat, John Medeski, Brahim Fribgane & Erik and myself. Our friends the Zukowski’s put us up at their lovely home in nearby Otis, and Richard, a world-renowned practitioner of Hoshino Therapy, a form of deep skeletal-muscular acupressure, had set up an appointment to work on Joe the following morning. We were all staying in the clinic, which is a beautiful Japanese-style structure with walls made of rice paper and sliding doors, none of which allows for much sound-proofing. Basically you hear anything that is going on upstairs or down from anywhere inside. We awoke to Joe’s exhortations as Richard worked on him, crying out in that familiar way of his and saying to RZ, “Oh! Oh!!! You’re like Beethoven! Bach! Oh! Ohhhh!” It was the funniest thing, and we were all in tears.

I love you, Joe and will miss you so much on this earth.  I will continue to take what you have given me and try to do something worthy of making you laugh that laugh of yours. Those of us fortunate to have been touched by you have been left a legacy that we will have to reckon with whenever we hold instrument in hand or lift voice in song. May your pain now be eased and may you travel safe, now that the star stuff of which you were made returns to The Source.

To end this I’d like to include a poem that Erik Kerr wrote for Joe. His words say what I wish that mine could, and I think Joe would really dig this.

For Joe

Prelude to bliss and you sprung up, prelude to a kiss.
A wild, unwieldy beast of a plant; a fragrant ragamuffin of a weed –
infectious and giddy and brooding and troubled.
Sown widely in love,
Behold! The fields you have planted have grown up to greet you!
On earth, your voice caught the current of the stream,
carried the wind with Funk so deep: Ruach HaKodesh.
Deeply rooted, singing, wounded,
stretching, calling, culled from Stone.
Speaking cleverly in riddles, unknown tongues
from laughing lips and mischief-eyed dancing stars;
adventurous and cantankerous, provoking us
to taste and see.
Unless a kernel of wheat dies…
And so you have, planted in twelve-tone rows,
before our unbelieving eyes,
wishing once more to hear Your microtones.
You swashbuckler! You rogue prophet! You swinging trickster!
Disabling disability, now you play the head!
Blowing over new changes and new forms! New sounds! And new worlds!
Clouded over eyes now crystal clear,
while we cry glasses full of tears!
And you play on and we play on and Life plays on.
And the bitter is sweetened somehow
by the remembrance of you,
sealed with a kiss,
a prelude that never dies.
Nobody laughs
but everyone smiles.
Farewell for now!
Farewell, my friend!

- Erik Kerr