Thursday, December 12, 2013

Dancing Near the Throne





About five years back we got an electric bass, a simple electric keyboard, some mics, for the house, down in cellar where there are guitars and a trap set and a collection of percussion instruments.  Create a jam room.  I can remember just playing along, over and over with one song in particular: ‘Shango’, by Peter King.  Youruban funk, on which the bass is irresistible.  Something about the way that the rhythm guitar locks in with the drums keeps it moving at this odd angle that tightens up and releases.  It holds you while it moves.  Best of all, my little girl who was only five or so then, got into singing the chorus with me on the mic.  So we’d be down there yelling “Shango!  1, 2 3” and making up other Yoruban words to go along.  We haven’t done make believe singing loud and silly in a microphone like that in a while.

I asked her if she remembered the cut at breakfast this morning and she did.  I had to repeat the word in a fairly ridiculous way, over and over but eventually she remembered. “Shango” is apparently the Yoruban for god for thunder, lightning and fire.  Zeus, perhaps, by another name. 

I’m digging the whole 1974 Afrobeat album now on Rdio and its fabulous.  He’s playing tenor sax, double bass and the drums on this.  The drums make the date on each song and I can understand better now, his role.  Similarly the sax fills are characteristically tasteful.  But Arthur Simon the guitar player is just adding rhythmic color like Monet at Giverny.  I want meet this guy. He’s locked in to the drummer in way that’s outrageous.

Like his countryman Fela, Peter King left Nigeria for England as a young man, got to play with visiting soul bands, traveled to the U.S. where he attended Berklee School of Music in Boston.  Returning to Europe he played with jazz luminaries like Sonny Rollins and Art Blakey.  Listening now to other cuts I’m drawn to how consistent the sound is across tracks.  The tempo is pared way down on, “Prisoner of Law,” and the drumming is the same infectious angularity, driven sharply forward.  The guitar still cutting, filling the open spaces.  Beautiful.



Shango struck here North Asia over night.  Skies parted and a real 厉风[1] was laid down on our neighbors.  I woke up this morning and my mom had shot me a skype note saying “Wow.  Kim doesn’t mess around.”  I wondered if she was referring to the regent’s arrest from a few days back, but figured it was probably something current.  Mr. Jang had probably been killed.  I went right to the Times, and sure enough, Jang Song-thaek had been executed at a special military tribunal.  Woe to the hapless prince regent.  Dangerous stuff to dance so near the throne like that.  It makes you think of famous regents who dutifully kept the seat warm only to take power, like Wang Mang in the Han or Dorgon in the Qing.  And all the lesser figures whose names aren’t so easily remembered who were, like Mr. Jang, eliminated when the prince became old enough. 

Yes.  I tried to find some.  I searched and struggled to come up with a good example from Chinese history that matched closely to circumstances in North Korea.  I mentioned it to my gal, who normally doesn’t have much time for this sort of diversion and she said I wasn’t the only one talking “regents” this morning.  There were a bunch of articles this morning in the Chinese press about the same topic.  The Chinese it seems, are just as captivated by the raw, medieval power play.  Suddenly we have a real life version of the televised historical soap operas broadcast incessantly.  What was the turning point for Mr. Jang?  Did he over reach?  Was it someone’s revenge?  Was it even the young Kim Jong-un’s call?  One day the Koreans, united, will make a wonderful soap opera rendition, no doubt.  My wife had read this article on Baidu that traced the history of regents, not only in China but from other locations in the region like Japan or this historical Tibetan kingdoms as well, which translated, is intersting: http://baike.baidu.com/view/482846.htm

I was out picking up my daughter, once again, very late from her school.  I was there in the cold at 9:50PM.  She was still working.  They’re incessant.  The wind howled but I had my big puffy winter coat on so I didn’t mind.  Ropes were whipping against the seven or so lonely flagpoles, clanging out, loudly.  I took my camera out and tried to photograph the night scene.  Normally it would be a waste of time with a simple phone on your camera, but with Camera Plus app and some of the features resident it is easy to manipulate nighttime photos into something at least reasonably interesting. 



Up above me were the enormous towers, which I’ve spoken about before.  A new village for 40,000 people or so has been put up suddenly on a field, across from my daughters’ school.  Some buildings already have inhabitants.  Most are still abandoned.  Enormous ships, docked, never to sail.  A world of activity and small cities worth of lives, triumphs despairs, all unwritten.  Uninhabited apartments piled on top of one another just waiting for people to come and watch soap operas within them.  Slam.  Slam.  The ropes on the flagpole, bring me back over to the main gate.  One last photo of a car approaching.  I’ll be back here in eight hours for the drop off. 








[1] léilìfēngxíng:  pass like thunder and move like the wind (idiom); swift and decisive reaction

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