Oud master Naseer Shamma (نصير شمة) here plays part of his composition al’Amiriyah, which tells the story of the bombing of public shelter nr. 25 in the Amiriyah district of Baghdad in 1991. Hundreds of civilians were killed (in the range 200-300 according to Human Rights Watch).

In the beginning there is a melancholy quiet, but then the havoc starts, with audible sirens, falling bombs and chaos. All in eleven strings.

Oud is العود in Arabic (al-ʿūd, literally “the wood”), a word believed to come from Persian, rud. The same word probably found its way into European languages as the name of the lute, when pious Europeans had a certain errand to run in the Near East and encountered this fine instrument.

project.ioni.st.m3u

(Yes, this will stay up-to-date.)

Tipex lead singer pushing the button

The eerie pipe-smoking accordionist

Okay, I’ve quit complaining about Eurovision songs being watered-out corny sugar clichés. First the Finns last year, and now — for those readers domiciled under a rock like me — the Israeli song this year (thank you, Eyþór).

Here are the lyrics, as far as I can tell, with an English translation of the Hebrew rap segment (cobbled together from here and there using this dictionary).

Yikes.

כפתור אדום	Push the Button
מילים, לחן והפקה מוסיקלית: קובי אוז	Lyrics and music: Kobi Oz

The world is full of terror
If someone makes an error
He’s gonna blow us up to biddy biddy kingdom come
There are some crazy rulers
they hide and try to fool us
With demonic, technologic willingness to harm

They’re gonna push the button
push the button
push the bu-
push the bu-
push the button

Il ya plein de souffrance
Dans les rues il y a trop de violence
Et on a beaucoup de chance d’être vivant même pas blessés.
Avancement tactique de régime fanatique
Situation tragique qui me met les larmes aux yeux

And I don’t want to die
I want to see the flowers bloom
Don’t want to go kaputt kaboom
And I don’t want to cry
I wanna have a lot of fun
Just sitting in the sun

But nevertheless …

He’s gonna push the button
push the button
push the bu-
push the bu-
push the button

מסרים מתפוצצים עלי טילים מתעופפים וגם נופלים עלי שוטרים וגנבים מתרוצצים עלי הם קופצים עלי מתקרצצים עלי אללי אללי תענה לי אלוהי הי	Messages are blowing up on me, Missiles are flying and falling on me, Cops and robbers running around on me, And they’re jumping on me, bothering me. My god, my god, answer me god?
הסיוט הזה ארוך מדי כשאני בקושי חי וכולם מכוונים אלי זה מוקדם לשיר אולי שנתתי לך חיי ווי ווי – המשטרה וויאוו וויאוו – צוות הצלה	This nightmare is too long, When I am barely alive and everybody is aiming at me it might be too soon to sing “I Gave My Life for Thee” Why, why – police patrol Wow, wow – paramedical
הנה זה בקדם שיר ללא סלאם אדום זה לא רק צבע זה יותר כמו דם שוב עוצר בלב את הנשימה שלא תפרח עכשיו הנשמה	Here it is in the Kdam (prelims), a song without Salam (peace in Arabic). Red is not just a color, it’s more like blood, Stopping my breath again, So my soul won’t pop out.
הנה מלחמה הנה הנשמה בום בום זה מה שקורה עכשיו בין רקטה למצ’טה בין צופה לכתב בין מחטף לנחטף בין גשום לשרב	Here is war, here is the soul [or: here is war, here is CPR] Boom boom this is what is happening now, Between rocket and machete, between viewer and reporter, Between underhanded opportunism and kidnapping,
הסלמה במדרגות עולה ותופסת קו כלום כלום זה מה שכולם עושים קיצונים מקצינים וקצינים מרצינים התמימים מתמתנים ממתינים לנתונים ועונים: שכולם חסרי אונים	Escalation rises up the stairs and takes a (front) line. Nothing is what everybody does. Extremists getting more extreme and officers acting serious, The naive turn to moderation and wait for information And answer that everyone is helpless.
עולם כולו דמונים שאנחנו סתם פיונים ושמפיונים עם ז’יטונים מחליטים מה שיהיה ניהול בעצלתיים, אוניה מלאה במים וכולם שותים לחיים וטובעים זה לצד זה	A world full of demons, and we are only pawns, And champions with poker chips decide what will be. Things are run slowly, a ship full of water, And everybody is drinking l’chaim, drowning next to each other.
אולי זה חד מדי צריך לשיר שירי דקלים שירי מדבר ללא דגלים אני עוד חי חי חי ואם ימשיך להיות מפחיד רק אז אני אגיד:	Maybe this is too blunt, maybe we should sing about palm trees, Sing about a desert without flags. I’m still alive alive alive, and if it continues to be frightening, Only then will I say:

I’m gonna push the button
push the button
push the bu-
push the bu-
push the button

Whatever happened to hupa hule hule hule?

„Til hamingju Glitnir,
með að fæðast í gær …“
♪ ♬

Insider tip úr Landsbankanum: við erum alveg að fara að kasta 120 ára gömlu nafninu, frá og með morgundeginum munum við heita „Lýsing“ og sérhæfa okkur í fjármögnun bíla og vinnuvéla. Allir að drífa sig að shorta LAIS! :-)

(Eins gott að það les þetta enginn, annars myndi regluvörður flengja mig bláan fyrir svona gáleysistal.)

In celebration of the new look of my blog, I’m changing the blog’s name temporarily to F’gati. If you can’t spot why that is, then that’s just as well; I’m groaning about it myself.

I listened to something pretty cool tonight: the recording of Kristín‘s concert in Salurinn in April.

• Edvard Grieg: Sonata in E minor Op. 7
• Alexander Scriabin: Sonata No. 2 in G sharp minor Op. 19
• Claude Debussy: L’isle joyeuse
• Þorkell Sigurbjörnsson: Der Wohltemperierte Pianist
• Samuel Barber: Sonata Op. 26

And as encores, Liszt’s Concert Étude “Un sospiro”, and a Capriccio by Páll Ísólfsson.

I have a special soft spot for the last movement of the Barber Sonata, a four-part fugue written at the request of Barber’s friend, one Vladimir Horowitz, who was the first to play this Sonata. It is, pianistically speaking, completely and utterly unreasonable.

If you have any interest in 20th-century (and 19th, for the Grieg) classical piano music, you’ll like this performance rather a lot. But you need not take my word for it: Jónas Sen liked it rather a lot too. Jónas is one of Iceland’s very few professional music critics; he is by far a tougher audience than I am, and his commentary is seldom as unreservedly positive as this. And no wonder. It’s a heck of a performance. Enjoy.

Never mind the brief fragment of a weather report at the beginning. That’s just a little something to keep you confused.