#Melody Reinhardt

[gladdyator18]

How Are You So Cute? - TickleTober2024 Day 8 (Nuzzles)

Summary: While Layla and Lucas were at the Reinhardt Manor, Lucas wanted to know how his girlfriend was so cute. When Layla didn't give an answer, Lucas had a way to convince her to give him an answer.

Word Count: 946

It was a late summer afternoon, and Layla hummed a small tune while walking through her manor's garden. The young noblewoman swayed back and forth as she lightly danced to the tune. Around her, some of the birds started chirping to her humming. When Layla noticed this, she smiled and started singing, enchanting the garden with beautiful melodies.

As she sang, a lone paladin watched her from inside, staring at the young noblewoman with hearts in his eyes. Lucas sighed as he watched Layla dance and sing with the birds in the garden.

"She's so pretty." Lucas said lovingly.

The paladin smiled before pushing the white glass doors open and walking towards Layla. When Layla spun around, the paladin took her hands and pulled her in close as he began to dance. Layla was initially surprised but continued to sing as the two danced around the garden. The love between them could be seen for miles. When Layla sang the song's last note, Lucas smiled and pulled the dancer in close, placing a loving kiss on her cranberry-colored lips. The noblewoman smiled and leaned into the kiss. When the two parted, they giggled as Lucas pushed back his lover's hair behind her ear.

"How'd I ever get so lucky with someone like you?" he asked, looking down at her.

"Hehe, I ask myself that every day." Layla chuckled.

Lucas smiled, wrapped his arms tightly, yet gently, around the noblewoman, and lifted her up until they were face-to-face.

"As small as you are, it makes you ten times cuter." Lucas said.

The dancer blushed as she caressed the paladin's cheek.

"You're cute, too." Layla said.

"You're far cuter than me, honey bee," Lucas said, "And I can prove it, too."

Keeping the noblewoman in his arms, Lucas sat on the ground and placed her in his lap. With a small giggle, he started wiggling his against her sides, making Layla squeak and giggle.

"Lucahahahas! Hahahaha!" Layla giggled, squirming around, "No tihihihickling!"

"See that? Your little giggles are so cute!" Lucas exclaimed, kissing her cheek, "Ugh, how are you so cute? It should be illegal to be this cute."

Layla blushed a little at the teasing as she twisted around and giggled.

"Lucas, plehehehease!" Layla giggled, "No mohohohore! Hahahaha!"

"Not until you tell me how you're so cute," Lucas chuckled, "Until then, I will enjoy hearing your little laughs."

Layla giggled and laughed with childlike glee as she twisted in her boyfriend's firm but gentle grip. Even though Lucas was a paladin who could take down a whole army alone, he couldn't even hurt a fly.

"Sweetheheheheheheart! Dahahaharling!" Layla giggled, "It tihihihihickles, plehehehease!"

Lucas chuckled before slowing to a stop, leaving the young dancer panting slightly.

"Are you okay, Layla?" he asked.

"Yehehes, dehehear, I'm fine." Layla giggled.

"So... are you gonna answer my question?"

Layla looked back at her boyfriend and tilted her head.

"What do you mean?" Layla asked, her innocence making her even cuter to Lucas.

"Why you are so darn cute!" Lucas exclaimed, his cheeks a shade of pink.

Layla giggled and placed a kiss on the paladin's warm cheek.

"I know why, but I won't tell you." she said, playfully challenging her boyfriend.

The paladin caught on and scoffed at his girlfriend's confidence.

"Oh yeah?" Lucas questioned, "Not if I have anything to say about that!"

Lucas chuckled as he started poking his girlfriend's sides and belly, making her giggle like crazy.

"Lucas, nohohohoho!" Layla giggled, "I'm tihihihicklish there! Ahahahehehehe!"

"I know you are, Layla," Lucas chuckled, "So, feel like answering my question yet?"

"Hehehehahaha! Nahahohohoho!"

The paladin shrugged his shoulders before bringing the dancer closer to his chest and nuzzling her neck, causing her to squeal and laugh.

"NOHOHOHO! LUCAHAHAHAAAS!" Layla laughed, "DOHOHOHON'T DO THAHAHAHAT!"

The noblewoman tried to push away the paladin's face, but Lucas continued to nuzzle into Layla's neck.

"EEHEHEHEHE! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!" Layla exclaimed, "NO MOHOHOHOHORE NUZZLING!"

Lucas couldn't help but chuckle into his girlfriend's neck as he continued to nuzzle her.

"All you have to do is answer my question, honey bee," Lucas said, "How are you so cute?"

Before Layla could protest, she let out a small scream of laughter as Lucas started poking her lower back while still burying his nose into her neck.

"AAAAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO!" Layla laughed, "DAHAHAHARLING, PLEHEHEHEASE!"

"Ugh, to think you can't get any cuter, and you always prove me wrong, honey bee," Lucas said, "Mind telling me how you're this cute?"

Layla gave up trying to escape and just laughed her pretty laugh.

"OKAHAHAHAY! OKAY, I'LL THEHEHEHELL YOOHOHOHOHOU!" Layla laughed, "LUCAHAHAHAS! HAHAHAHAHEHEHE!"

The paladin chuckled before slowing to a stop. Layla panted as she leaned back into her boyfriend's embrace.

"Are you okay, love?" Lucas asked.

Layla took a breath and nodded.

"So... are you gonna answer my question?" Lucas questioned.

The dancer chuckled before sitting up and twisting around to meet her paladin's gaze.

"The reason I'm so cute is because I'm with the cutest man alive," Layla said, placing a hand on the paladin's cheek, "With our cuteness combined, we're the cutest couple in Zegrin."

What Layla said made Lucas blush and turn away with a sheepish smile.

"Aw, shucks," Lucas said, "I should've expected that answer."

Layla giggled before kissing Lucas' cheek. Lucas turned to his girlfriend, gently took her chin, and kissed her. The noblewoman smiled as they parted before hugging him. The nobleman smiled and gave her a loving squeeze.

"Can we be like this forever?" Layla asked.

The nobleman glanced beside him and smiled. He picked a small pink flower before tucking it behind Layla's ear.

"Of course, we can, honey bee," he said, "Forever and always."

[spockeye-fierce]

Barney Kessel would have turned 101 today !!💙

(October 17, 1923 – May 6, 2004) was an American jazz guitarist born in Muskogee, Oklahoma. Noted in particular for his knowledge of chords and inversions and chord-based melodies, he was a member of many prominent jazz groups as well as a "first call" guitarist for studio, film, and television recording sessions. Kessel was a member of the group of session musicians informally known as the Wrecking Crew.

Django Reinhardt & Barney Kessel 1953 photographed by © Jean-Pierre Leloir

[stanislawkowalski]

Zed's dead, baby... Zed's dead.....//@gloryundimmed

Nastka loomed behind Reinhardt, a dark specter of authority. His presence was an imposing shadow, his grip a vice of iron encircling Reinhardt’s wrist. The pistol, cold and unyielding, rested against the nape of one of Nastka’s men, its muzzle a harsh and unforgiving line pressed into the skin.

The intimacy of their position was almost suffocating, Nastka's chest brushing Reinhardt’s back, his breath a barely perceptible caress of menace. With an artful cruelty, Nastka's hand guided Reinhardt’s, a forceful elegance that made the pistol shiver with the tension of imminent violence. The gun’s tremor was a dark promise, balanced on the edge of a single breath, a delicate dance between the threat of action and the stillness of restraint.

The air was heavy with unspoken threat, the pistol’s cold kiss against the bodyguard’s neck a stark testament to the peril that hovered just beyond reach. The scene was a poetic tableau of dominance and dread, Nastka’s influence a shroud of shadow and intent, wrapping the other in a web of imminent consequence.

“Do you see this, Reinhardt? This is what happens when you don’t stand your ground. In this grotesque world, it’s not the weak who survive, but those who face their demons head-on.” His voice wove through the silence, a melody of disdain and challenge. “You know what it means to run, don’t you? How it feels to scurry away like a cockroach when the true test comes. Learn from this—learn how to face what’s coming, or you’ll end up just like your past: a coward’s shadow. Pull the trigger... chop, chop, my little owieczko... do it for me....”

[lot666achandelierinpieces]

Signal boosting my podcast.

"The Witch's Embrace: Threads of Fate in Shadowbrook Camp" is an enthralling and chilling episode of the enigmatic world of Zariya Hollow: A Horror Anthology. This immersive experience, spanning 1 hour and 53 minutes, transports you to the eerie realm of Shadowbrook Camp nestled beneath the ominous Witchcrest Peak. As Madame Ruth expertly shuffles the tarot cards, a mesmerizing tale begins to unfold, intricately weaving the lives of Johnnie Bailey, Dr. and Mrs. Peabody, Reinhardt Hendrickson, Isaac, and the debut character, Esme Levine, portrayed by Danielle White, a Phantom, The Las Vegas Spectacular! alumni.

Within the depths of Shadowbrook Camp, secrets and mysteries abound, and the destinies of these characters become intricately intertwined. As you delve deeper into the shadows, prepare to be captivated by haunting melodies that echo from the past, while the spirits of this enigmatic town whisper their tales of love, loss, and the darkness that lurks within.

[dispatchwithlove]

11, 13 for Melody, if you don't mind <3

Oh man, look at you over here asking questions with skills like Oprah 😁 Music was so important to this little fic! I absolutely had a specific song in mind when I wrote that, two actually, so this is so much fun to answer! ❤️

First, though, 11: What do you like best about this fic?

Um, I think I like the way I structured the time skips. Starting with "Two Weeks Ago" then jumping to "Five Days Ago", then the final section being in present. I had a lot of fun playing with tense in just that short little one shot, and I think it adds to this feeling that as Garrus is recognizing he just might die, he's reflecting on integral moments preceding Shepard's return and meeting her again on Omega.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

Two songs went into this fic. Both perfectly represented the mood I wanted to capture (and hope I did a decent job! 😁). I wanted to capture the energy that smooth, smoky music of a bygone era holds. Nostalgia, love, and loss. That's how I feel when I listen to this music, and I wanted Garrus to feel that as well, specifically for Shepard. This sense that he's holding on and his heart is very attached to this woman, even if nothing romantic was established. I listened to two songs to help me. The first, La Mer, captures that mood so well! The second, The Very Thought of You, is the song I imagine Shepard humming under the mako, and playing in Garrus's room, on Omega I'll try and be fancy and share them below.

And here's a link to Melody, the fic.

Thanks for asking, friend! I love chatting about writing with you 😊

[oltrearcobaleno]

Django Reinhardt: L’icona del jazz che ha superato le barriere della disabilità

Django Reinhardt, nato Jean Reinhart a Liberchies, Belgio, il 23 gennaio 1910, è un nome leggendario nella storia del jazz. Considerato uno dei chitarristi più virtuosi e influenti di tutti i tempi, Reinhardt è celebre non solo per la sua genialità musicale, ma anche per la capacità di trasformare una grave disabilità in una fonte di ispirazione per milioni di persone.

La vita di Django e l’incidente che cambiò tutto

Reinhardt nacque in una famiglia di etnia sinti, trascorrendo la sua infanzia in una carovana itinerante che lo portò in diverse parti d’Europa. La sua carriera musicale iniziò presto, con il banjo come strumento principale. Tuttavia, la sua vita subì una svolta drammatica a soli 18 anni, quando un incendio nella roulotte di famiglia lo lasciò con gravi ustioni. L’incidente distrusse il mignolo e l’anulare della mano sinistra, lasciandoli inutilizzabili. Questa disabilità sembrava destinata a porre fine alla sua carriera musicale.

Invece di arrendersi, Reinhardt trovò nella chitarra un nuovo mezzo di espressione. Con un’incredibile determinazione, reinventò il suo modo di suonare, utilizzando solo due dita della mano sinistra per eseguire gli accordi e le melodie. Questo evento, pur essendo una tragedia personale, divenne la scintilla che diede vita al suo stile unico e rivoluzionario.

L’ascesa al successo

Negli anni ’30, Reinhardt formò con il violinista Stéphane Grappelli il famoso Quintette du Hot Club de France, un gruppo innovativo che abbandonò i fiati per concentrarsi sugli strumenti a corda. La musica del quintetto era vibrante e raffinata, un perfetto equilibrio tra improvvisazione e precisione tecnica. Questo progetto fece di Django una figura centrale nella scena del jazz europeo, dimostrando che la sua disabilità non era un ostacolo alla grandezza.

Oltre la musica: un’ispirazione per tutti

La storia di Reinhardt è un esempio lampante di come la disabilità possa essere superata attraverso creatività e forza di volontà. Nonostante le limitazioni fisiche, Reinhardt sviluppò un linguaggio musicale inimitabile, influenzando generazioni di musicisti. Il chitarrista inglese Tony Iommi, dei Black Sabbath, trovò in lui una fonte di ispirazione dopo aver perso due falangi della mano. Iommi affermò che, grazie a Django, riuscì a ritrovare la forza per continuare a suonare.

Innovazione e stile inconfondibile

Il contributo di Django Reinhardt al jazz non si limita alla sua abilità tecnica. Il suo stile unico, caratterizzato da improvvisazioni ardite e melodie eleganti, si basava su una profonda comprensione della musica manouche, un genere che integrava elementi tradizionali gitani con il jazz contemporaneo. Nonostante la sua disabilità, Reinhardt era in grado di eseguire brani complessi con una naturalezza che lasciava il pubblico senza parole.

L’impatto della disabilità sulla creatività

La disabilità di Django non fu soltanto una sfida, ma anche una fonte di innovazione. Grazie alla limitazione dell’uso della mano sinistra, Reinhardt creò nuove tecniche che ridefinirono il modo in cui la chitarra jazz veniva suonata. Questo spirito di adattamento è un potente messaggio di speranza per chiunque affronti ostacoli nella vita.

L’eredità di Django Reinhardt

Reinhardt non fu solo un chitarrista straordinario, ma anche un compositore prolifico. Brani come Minor Swing, Nuages e Belleville sono ancora oggi considerati pietre miliari del repertorio jazz. La sua influenza si estende ben oltre il jazz manouche, toccando anche il rock e altri generi musicali.

Anche dopo la sua morte, avvenuta nel 1953 a Samois-sur-Seine, la sua musica e la sua storia continuano a ispirare. Reinhardt è un simbolo di come l’arte possa trionfare sulla disabilità, trasformando una limitazione fisica in un punto di forza.

Un messaggio universale

La vita di Django Reinhardt ci insegna che la disabilità non definisce una persona. Al contrario, ciò che conta è la capacità di adattarsi, innovare e lasciare un segno. Reinhardt non solo ha superato le sue sfide personali, ma ha anche rivoluzionato il mondo della musica, dimostrando che la grandezza risiede nella determinazione e nel talento, non nelle circostanze fisiche.

Con la sua musica, Django Reinhardt ha aperto una finestra su ciò che è possibile, offrendo a chiunque affronti una disabilità l’ispirazione per sognare e realizzare grandi cose. La sua eredità musicale e umana rimane un faro di speranza per tutte le generazioni future.

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[mogwai-movie-house]

Best musician of our times, in your view?

Well, Prince was pretty talented. Miles Davis had a beautiful tone. I very much like what The Edge did with the guitar. And Eddie Hazel. And Django Reinhardt. And Robert Johnson. And Keith Richards.

My favourite pianist is probably James Booker. Paul McCartney and Peter Hook on bass.

Jaki Liebezeit and Klaus Dinger on one drum set, Hal Blaine and Ringo on the other. Nico on harmonium, Joanna Newsom on harp, Moondog on orchestral arrangements and homemade percussion.

Melodies and harmonies by Brian Wilson, lead vocals by Van Morrison, with some help in the high notes from Black Francis and Roy Orbison. Lyrics by Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen. Produced by Daniel Lanois and Phil Spector.

Yep, that'd be a pretty nice garage band, alright.

[mandolinsecrets]

I've Found a New Baby - Jazz Mandolin Lesson - Melody with Chord Punches

In this video lesson, I show you how to play a more advanced jazz melody style on the mandolin, combining single-note melody with chord punches. The tune demonstrated is the jazz standard "I've Found a New Baby," written by Jack Palmer and Spencer Williams. 

This iconic piece, first released in 1926, has been immortalized by the performances of legendary artists such as Benny Goodman, Charlie Christian, Sidney Bechet, Django Reinhardt, Homer, and Jethro (Burns).

Our unique arrangement of this classic tune features an ornamented melody and a distinctive backup rhythm on the octave mandolin. 

This lesson focuses on the advanced melody style using some chord punches, which is a very intricate mandolin technique for soloing or jazz improvisation. 

Keep in mind that this lesson builds on the previous tutorial, which focused on the single-note melody. I recommend starting with that one since that should be the starting point for any soloing or jazz improvisation. 

We are playing it in the key of Dm (F-major) and using closed-position playing for the entire melody, meaning no open strings. 

Embark on a musical journey as you build your jazz vocabulary and add a must-know tune to your repertoire of jazz standards. With each note you play, you're stepping closer to mastering the art of jazz mandolin playing. 

In Mandolin Secrets Academy, you can find sheet music, tabs, audio tracks, and instructions for this tune.

[monstroum]

i cherish the theory that the soul sometimes lingers in the body after death. (+ for whomever ;))

the band at the café plays an amateurish version of reinhardt's dinette but , what they lack in expertise , they makeup for in enthusiasm . louis had never been too sensitive when it came to offensive notes ; mistakes had to be made in order for a full melody to come together . but the more he watched armand , the more louis wondered if he'd ever get to witness the vampire falling OUT OF TUNE .

they went on walks , sat in cafés , smoked cigarettes , spoke of philosophy and art and paris ... sometimes they'd stare at each other in silence for far too long ( and louis would never be the first to pull his gaze away , he was never bashful when it came to wanting ) . and though they had done these small rituals numerous times already , louis had yet to find anything about the man sitting before him that might offend him ㅤ─ ㅤ everything about armand enthralled louis , beckoned for him to lean in , to sit closer , to listen carefully .

he exhaled smoke when hearing the theatre's director's theory . louis squinted playfully at the other while leaning back into his seat , as if to get A BETTER VIEW of armand . " not sure i like that ㅤ─ ㅤ " he confessed , lifting his cigarette back to his lips . louis smiles and continues . " if your soul's still there when the body dies , that means you get to witness to all the pain and misery your loss left behind , " somewhere behind armand , out in the street , a blond figure lingers under a street lamp . HE CAN FEEL BLUE EYES BORING INTO HIS FLESH . " ㅤ─ ㅤor the lack of it . " louis finally bows his head , suddenly overwhelmed by a strong sense of guilt . " don't think that'd bring much peace to anyone . " all of the levity seemed to have been drained out of him .

[sheetmusiclibrarypdf]

Great Jazz Guitarists: Wes Montgomery (1923-1968)

Great Jazz Guitarists: Wes Montgomery (1923-1968) Best Sheet Music download from our Library. Please, subscribe to our Library. Thank you! The Very Best of Wes Montgomery (Full Album)

Great Jazz Guitarists: Wes Montgomery (1923-1968)

Wes Montgomery was the first ( and one of the few ) jazz guitarists to become a star beyond the purview of jazz lovers. His flirtation with pop idioms and audiences was deemed a gross infidelity by his initial ( and most ardent) supporters. “He was very unhappy and disturbed by this attitude,” recalled his disciple, George Benson. “He died a very sad man.” It’s tempting to depict Wes Montgomery as a tragic figure, a victim of his own success. There may be something to this view, but the joyous figure seen in this video, vividly counters it. Any great talent struck dead by a heart attack at age 43 is, in a sense, tragic. But Montgomery’s creative triumphs endure. Critic Marc Gridley hailed him as “ probably the best hard bop guitarist.”

Joe Pass ranked Montgomery in a trinity alongside Charlie Christian and Django Reinhardt: “ the only three real innovators on the guitar.” Montgomery’s jazz-pop forays have not diluted his repu-tation among those who really heard him play, as he does in these 1965 performances on the BBC’s Ja zz 6 25 program. Given Montgomery’s enduring impact, it’s remarkable that less than a decade elapsed between his 1959 discovery and his death in 1968. With an understatement analogous to his style, Montgomery succinctly said: “I had to play and tell my story.” John Leslie Wes Montgomery’s story began in 1925. The Indianapolis native was already grown and married when he fell in love with the guitar in 1943. The reason? It was a recording by a man who had died the previous year, Charlie Christian’s “Solo Flight.” “That was it for me,” Montgomery recalled. “There was no way out . That cat tore everybody’s head up…he said so much on records.” Christian’s records were Montgomery’s constant companion for months as he labored over a guitar in hopes of coming close to Christian’s sound. “I started off practicing with a plectrum,” he recalled. “I did t his for about 30 days. Then, I decided to plug in my amplifier and see what I was doing. The sound w as too much even for my next-door neighbors. So I took to the back of the house, and began plucking the strings with the fat part of my thumb. This was much quieter. To this technique, I added the trick of playing the melody line in two different registers at the same time —the octave thing.” “The octave thing” would become Montgomery’s stylistic signature. “Voicing lines in octaves was not new to jazz guitar,” observed Marc Gridley in Jazz Styles, “but Montgomery’s use of this device did much to popularize the approach.” At first, however, Montgomery was just looking for a gig. “A cat hired me for the Club 440,” he recalled. “I’d play Charlie Christian’s solos, then lay out.” Montgomery worked around Indianapolis, occasionally venturing out on the road with a touring band, and earned his first break in 1948 when Lionel Hampton hired him. “He allowed me to keep my amp on during the entire length of the numbers we played,” Montgomery recalled, “not just during my solos.” Encouraged, Montgomery rose to the occasion: “I began working hard and experimenting with the techniques,” he recalled, “seeking out the ones that felt good and were most expressive of my thoughts. My explorations continued for quite a while. My technique improved, developing out of particular playing situations. More and more of  me passed through my amplifier to those who took time to listen.” For years, however, listening to Montgomery meant showing up at the Turf Bar or Missile Room in Indianapolis. After a two-year stint with Hampton, he settled into a grueling routine, which divided his energies between daytime employment at a radio parts factory and nightly gigs. Montgomery had seven children and took his parental responsibilities seriously. “Some musicians might…cut off the rest of the world to concentrate exclusively on their thing,” said Montgomery. “What sort of person would I be,” he asked rhetorically, “if I’d devoted all my time to the instrument…? There are other things going on, you know.” And the grind which kept his family fed also tempered Montgomery the musician: “From all that scuffling,” he reflected, “I learned a lot about discipline as an entertainer.” In 1959, Cannonball Adderly heard Montgomery at the Missile Room and called Bill Grauer and Orrin Keepnews of  Riverside Records with news of his find. Within a matter of  weeks, Montgomery and his Missile Room trio had recorded the material for two Riverside albums, Boss Guitar (Riverside RLP 67301) and ‘Round Midnight (Riverside RLP 673099) . Acclaim was instantaneous: critics compared Montgomery to John Coltrane and Sonny Rollins. down beat  awarded him it s New Star honors in 1960, the same year Billboard called Montgomery the “most promising instrumentalist of the year.” That promise was fulfilled on further Riverside recordings and a touring schedule which eventually moved Montgomery to San Francisco. “When Wes came on the scene,” reflected veteran San Francisco critic Ralph Gleason, “he was so innovative and so powerful that he just swept the other guys away into the studios.” When Riverside folded in 1964, Montgomery’s talents were enlisted by producer Creed Taylor at the Verve label. There, Montgomery’s music took a turn which disappointed his jazz fans, but which earned him a far broader audience. “He took today’s better pop tunes and played them with such jazz feeling and power that he caught the ear of the pop listener by w h a t  he was playing,” wrote Dom Cerulli, “and the imagination of the jazz listener by h ow he was playing what he was playing.” Not all jazz listeners w ere captivated, but Montgomery’s version of “ Going Out of My Head” claimed the 1966 Grammy for Best Instrumental Jazz Performance. To his critics, Montgomery said frankly: “Those who criticize me for playing jazz too simply and such are missing the point. There’s a jazz concept to what I’m doing, but I’m playing popular music, and it should be regarded as such.” Luckily, at least one significant ‘pre-pop’ performance by Montgomery exists on videotape. Pianist Harold Mabern, bassist Arthur Harper, and drummer Jimmy Lovelace join him in a 1965 performance for the BBC’s Jazz 6 25 program. “Twisted Blues,” a Montgomery composition, gives generous solo space to Mabern and Harper as well as offering a plenitude of  Montgomery’s signature shimmery, swooping octaves. “Jingles,” another Montgomery original, showcases the tightness of this quartet driving through bluesy bop terrain. By contrast, the pop chestnut “ Yesterdays” finds its wistful melody swung in a cool way. (A 1933 Jerome Kern tune, “Yesterdays” debuted in the musical Roberta in which a young Bob Hope appeared in the stage production.) Montgomery plays it punchy without grandstanding, an art tenor saxophonist Johnny Griffin admired in his old jamming partner: “He had a fantastic creative force,” Griffin said of Montgomery. “Everything he did in life was rounded out, definitive. No waste of energy or emotions.”

The Very Best of Wes Montgomery (Full Album)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IFBeo0cGu7c

Read the full article

[tombeane-blog]

Django's Legacy

"Give me the beat, boys, and free my soul,

I wanna get lost in your rock and roll,

and drift away."

Dobie Gray - "Drift Away"

First, we need to talk about Django Reinhardt, the great jazz guitarist.  

To quote my Artificially Intelligent Assistant - "Django Reinhardt was a legendary jazz guitarist and composer, widely regarded as one of the most innovative and influential guitarists of all time."

"Jeez Vern, I haven't even gotten started yet and you're already interrupting me.  Whaaat?"

"Big deal Tom.  Like... you know... everywhere in life, somebody has to be at the top.  So like... somebody will be the tallest person in Resume Speed, Georgia and... you know... somebody will be the... you know... like... cutest guy that graduated from Schertz-Cibolo High School - Class of 1961."

"That's just the way life is Tom.  Like even in the cut-throat blood sport of Competitive Croissantery, somebody has to achieve the flakiest bake.  So what?"

"Are you done Vern?  Then consider this."

At the age of 18, Reinhardt was injured in a fire and because of this his ring finger and pinky were paralyzed.

Refusing to give up, he adapted his playing to using only the two fingers of his left hand and not only overcame this handicap - but went on to influence jazz guitar playing for decades - creating a profound and long-lasting legacy as one of the greatest guitarists of all time.

Let's ask my A.I. lady for some really cool adjectives that apply to Reinhardt's playing:  "Innovative chromaticism, harmonic complexity, rhythmic variation, incredible speed, virtuosic improvisation, unique chord playing."

"OK Vern?  Good.  So, moving on to the story.

Dicky Betts, lead guitarist for the Allman Brothers Band was at "The Farm" - which was a 432 acre hangout for the band near Juliette, Georgia in 1972.

He was noodling around on his guitar attempting to write a song that could be played with just the two fingers of his left hand in honor of the great Django Reinhardt.  

He was searching for an emotion or idea to express his playing.  He had the main melody but was frustrated with it's direction.  

His infant daughter came into the room and began bouncing and moving to the melody and rhythm.  Dicky started playing along with her movements trying to musically capture her joy and attitude as she was jumping and leaping with abandon around the room.

The song is a mixture of Django Reinhardt's technique and Dicky's musical genius blended with inspiration from his daughter's jubilant movements. 

Later, when the song was completed, he named it after her.  

The song is on the album Brothers and Sisters recorded at Capricorn Sound Studios in Macon, Georgia. 

A song written by one of rock's greatest musicians, inspired by a legendary two fingered guitarist and a little girl captured by the music.

If you want to see what Jessica looked like, it is her pictured on the album cover.

One of the great songs of all time.

[bewitchingbooktours]

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[missymarysthings]

New Beginnings

Cohen and Elias were simply awestruck by their new surroundings. It was so different from the northern lands. But at the same time it already started to feel like home to them. There were so many new feelings and things to see they couldn't wait to explore everything once they were settled in. They also had so many questions bubbling up inside that they wanted to ask Luther, but they held it in for now. The two figured that there would be plenty of time for that later. 

Aldrich, meanwhile, kept close to his beloved wife the whole time. Though everything seemed so different and welcoming...he was still a little on edge for the move. Granted it could also be a bit of his stubbornness lingering. He wanted the best for his family, there was no doubt about that. However, there were still some concerns and worries that refused to leave him completely. He also supposed that deep down, he was a little afraid of being betrayed once more and dealing with more heartache for himself and his beloved family. 

On the other hand Karlene was absolutely fascinated with what was to be her new home. Her new life with Luther and her family. She held onto Luther's arm most of the time as he led them around. Karle, much like her little brothers, could not wait to walk around and explore her new home. She was also curious to meet more of Luther's Clan. After all she was going to be a part of it soon. It was also safe to say that Karle already felt like she belonged and could not help but smile the whole time and thank him once more for doing this for them. 

And Amelinda? 

Well, she was quietly taking things in. Her mind was partly distracted. Part of her was trying to adjust for the new feelings and sensations she was starting to experience. The other part was admittedly still thinking about Dietrich. Wondering if trying to call to him through the stone of her ring would let him find her here. However, she was still trying to tell herself that right now, she should be focusing more on what her family is going through at the moment. That she will be one of the more steadying factors to getting all of them settled in. Once her family was settled into their new home and at peace then, and only then, could she really start focusing on other things. 

After they reached their new house, they were visited by a small little welcoming party a little while later. It was a woman with a warm smile who had a little girl in one arm and a basket hanging off the other and three more children in tow. A young boy who was likely older than Cohen and Elias, who was holding the hands of two other little girls older than the one being carried by the woman. Each of those girls holding little packages themselves.

“Greetings everyone,“ she said softly. “My children and I wanted to welcome you to your new home. And bring some welcoming gifts, refreshments mostly,“ she said and laughed softly. “I’m Lorena, and these are my four little darlings. My only son and the eldest, Salem...”

“Hello!“ he greeted enthusiastically, quite excited to meet some new people, and winked since he was not about to let go of his sisters’ hands yet.

“On his right is my oldest girl, and second oldest, Amalie. Although you’ll sometimes hear her be called by her second name Nyla,” his mother continued. After her dear dove said hello she spoke again. “On Salem’s left is my third darling, Cassandra.“

“Hi hi! Mama made yum yums for you!“ Cassie said and then giggled. Her mother chuckled softly. 

“And then here in my arm, being a little shy, is my littlest darling, Melody,” she said and looked more at her youngest child. “Are you going to say hi, my littlest dove?“ she asked softly. Melody lifted her head a little from her mother’s shoulder and looked at her a moment. Little pink and red question marks of light appeared briefly around Melody’s head as she seemed to think about it. Slowly she turned in her mama’s arm to look at the new people and tilted her head at them. 

“H-hiiii??“

[nitewrighter]

Possible prompt idea. We now know that Rein and Ana would dance late at night on base. So what if the other night owl couple (Gency) stumbled upon them and Reinhardt insisted they dance with them?

This ended up being pre-fall so it didn’t quite shake out to be like that, but it was still fun to write.

---

Mercy yawned and Genji stretched as they headed down the halls from her lab together, a little after midnight.

"Okay," said Genji, with a slight roll of his neck, "Chandrasekhar Limit?"

"Nope," said Mercy.

"You're kidding."

"I keep telling you, I didn't get out much during that time!"

"I didn't get out much either but I still found a way to watch a cultural icon!"

"I think you're giving it a little too much credit," Mercy's mouth was in a pinched little smile.

"Oh come on, you definitely saw it--Remember?" Genji struck a pose and affected his voice in a surprisingly impressive imitation of an American accident, "You and me, Rodriguez, we're more than brothers--we're Psi-copilots. Wherever you go, I'll--" He glanced back at Mercy expectantly.

"Psychopilots?" Mercy's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"No it was like, a pun, because the only way to traverse psi-space was with two--" Genji caught himself, "Wow, you really didn't see it."

"As I've said," Mercy pocketed her hands.

"Remind me to put it on next time we're waiting for samples to percolate. Or incubate. Or.... "

"Catalyze?" Mercy offered.

"Catalyze," Genji nodded and Mercy snickered a little.

"'We' huh?" she arched an eyebrow at him.

Genji metallically cleared his throat, "That is, if you need a lab assistant."

"I might..." Mercy said vaguely, before giving him a smile and bumping him with her shoulder a little, "But I like the company either way."

Genji chuckled a little and rubbed his arm where she bumped into him. It was his prosthetic, so the sensation of contact was briefer than he liked. "Well it's just--I know I've been difficult with the benching, so I really appreciate getting to spend time like--" he stopped walking abruptly, "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Mercy stopped as well.

"Music," was all Genji said before briskly walking forward and turning down a nearby corridor.

"Cassidy already tried pulling some 'Headquarters is haunted' nonsense with me, so if this is him trying to get you in on the joke--" Mercy started as she hurried after him, but Genji had paused again, intently listening.

"...This way," he said after a beat, walking again.

"Genji, I honestly don't hear--" Mercy started but she suddenly stopped as well. There was music, barely on the edge of her hearing. She couldn't pick out a melody quite yet but there was certainly a rhythmic swelling of notes. She followed after him. He paused again in a stairwell before hustling up the steps and she half-stumbled after him. He had a remarkable directness about him, once he was set on investigating something, all fatigue from hours of tedious lab work and their own long pleasantly meandering discussions, apparently gone from his mind and body as he pursued the sound. And she could hear more of it too, vocals were coming in, along with some rippling violins answering the vocals like a chorus. 

“Cittá Vuota?” Mercy mused.

“Come again?”

“Pre-crisis song,” Mercy said as they headed out of the stairwell and the song got louder.

“You’re telling me you’ve never seen Chandrasekhar Limit but you can instantly recognize Pre-Crisis Italian pop music,” Genji said, sounding just as impressed as incredulous.

“It’s a cultural icon, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it!” said Mercy with a smug waggle of her eyebrows as they walked in the direction of the music.

“Ha-ha,” Genji let a little bit more of the metallicity of his voice leech into the sarcastic laugh for effect.

 “Maybe one of the janitors--” Mercy started but they both stopped dead.

There was a warm yellow glow from one of the executive presentation rooms, and both Mercy and Genji were frozen in place as they watched a massive silhouette bob rhythmically from behind the glass that had been electronically SmartFrosted for privacy. There was now a distinctive, hearty humming vibrating through the glass as well the shape pivoted and shifted, revealing two bodies as the singer hit a climactic bridge, vamping up and up.

“Maybe we should--” Mercy dropped her voice to a low whisper, but Genji was already moving again, “Gen--Genji!” she hissed after him, as Genji opened the door to the room. Her face was burning as Genji opened the door to the final peak of the main chorus, revealing Reinhardt and Ana mid-dip, Ana’s arm flourished out to create a graceful angle with her arching back, outstretched leg and pointed foot, just as the melody arrested on the lyrics, “Ma so che la citta.”

Almost perfectly on beat Reinhardt dropped her with a thud and an ‘oof’ from Ana.

“Eh--” It immediately occurred to Genji that he had opened the door without any inkling of what he would do once the door was opened.

“Genji?” Ana propped herself up on her elbow from the floor.

“C-captain!” Reinhardt immediately stooped over Ana but his own head jerked up and he made eye contact with Mercy, “Doctor Ziegler?”

Mercy flinched and wished that she could have better hid herself behind Genji.

“We... heard... music,” Genji said blankly.

“Wh-” Ana caught herself and quickly pushed herself back up to her feet, dusting herself off with a very commanding, “What are you two doing up so late?” 

Mercy’s mouth hung open for a few seconds as her brain hit a log jam of some stammering about emails and overseeing biotic coding calibrations when Genji hit them with the ironclad comeback of, “What are.... you two doing up so late?” 

Ana’s shoulders bunched up and Mercy could tell she was about to return with the usual spiel of ‘Agent Shimada I am your captain and with Blackwatch benched you are frankly in no position to question what I do in my time off,’ or some variant of that, but she seemed to catch herself and exhale. “Reinhardt’s been giving me lessons,” she said tersely. 

“Lessons...?” Mercy tilted her head.

“Well, Captain Amari first came to me some years back to give her lessons in preparation for her upcoming anniversary with Sam, but then--eh--erm.. that is....” Reinhardt’s sentence turned halting, and Mercy and Genji became quickly aware that he was in no position to disclose what was currently going on between Ana and Sam, or what had happened between Ana and Sam, just as he was realizing that position himself. He quickly changed gears, “You see, I actually have quite a reputation back in Stuttgart--actually many of the Crusaders used dance as a means to gain better coordination in our armor! I myself had a particular proclivity for waltzes and tango and...” he looked at Ana, half-pleading for backup.

“Well... it seemed like a waste to just stop,” Ana said, folding her arms.

“Indeed!” Reinhardt said, suddenly getting a grasp on his own justifications, “Dance can be an important medium to build both coordination and trust!” 

“Right...” said Genji, “Well... far be it from us to keep you from your.. coordination--”

“If you ever need lessons--!” Reinhardt started.

Mercy reddened, “We’ll... know who to go to,” she said, backing out of the room and grabbing Genji’s arm to pull him out as well. 

“Have a good evening--!” Genji’s voice trailed off as Mercy yanked him out the door. Within two minutes both of them were briskly walking down the hall, not making eye-contact with each other. 

“Coordination,” Mercy rolled the word out incredulously.

“Coordination...” Genji repeated after her, musing.

 “I mean, of course I’m in full support of physical activity outside of the sparring or tangling with training bots, but they can’t really expect us to believe--I mean--it’s the middle of the night! It’s hardly--That is--” she was stammering, “I--Why am I embarrassed--why am I the one embarrassed!? They’re the ones... c-carrying on!”

“So I take it you’re not going to take him up on that dance lesson?” said Genji.

“Oh come on, it’s not as if he really meant it--it’s one of those things you throw out there when you’re covering up for something,” Mercy huffed and pocketed her hands again, “I mean, obviously it’s their business, and of course they all fought in the Crisis together so of course they’re close but--” she pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead with a noise of frustration before dragging her fingers down her face. “You know what? The fact that it’s bothering me at all is clearly a sign I need some sleep,” she said, seemingly talking to herself just as much as Genji.

“It kind of shifts the mood, too,” Genji murmured.

“Shifts the mood?” Mercy glanced at him.

“Well.. you know, this whole time we’ve both been operating under the assumption that we more or less have headquarters to ourselves at this hour, save for a janitor or cleaning bot here and there... knowing your superiors are up at the same hour...” he trailed off.

 “...shifts the mood,” Mercy said in agreement. 

“Right! Like... this was our thing! They don’t get to--I mean, they can, it’s their business--it’s just...” Genji blurted out and he realized Mercy was looking at him with a slightly sleepy steadiness, one corner of her mouth quirked in a little smile. He caught himself and rubbed at the back of his neck with his organic hand. “I... probably need sleep, too.” 

“Right,” Mercy glanced off, pushing some of her hair back. They eventually came to a stop next to the elevator leading down to the Blackwatch facilities.

“Until next time?” Genji pressed the button. 

“Don’t forget the holo-drive,” said Mercy as the elevator doors opened.

“Holo-drive--?” Genji started absently as he stepped into the elevator, but then perked up, “Oh! Right! ‘You and me, Rodriguez, we’re more than brothers, we’re’--I just remembered you don’t actually get that reference--”

Mercy was snickering, but managed to fit in a wave and a “Good night!” as the elevator doors closed. 

“Good night,” said Genji, to the closed doors, before slumping his back against the opposite wall of the elevator, letting his weight shift to his cybernetic heels, the exhaustion returning to him even heavier after all the excitement of the evening. He found himself humming the song Reinhardt and Ana had been dancing to as the elevator thrummed. “Coordination, huh?” he murmured to himself.

----

A few days had passed and it was a warm afternoon as Reinhardt made his way into the break room from the training floor. He was humming, his gray hair still damp from the shower and a towel draped loosely on his broad shoulders as he opened the fridge and pulled out a chai protein shake. 

“Lieutenant,” a clipped voice came from above and Reinhardt coughed and spluttered before his head jerked up to see Genji perched atop the cupboards. 

“Ach! You--! When did you--? There’s a door, you know!” Reinhardt blustered.

“Were you serious about the lessons?” Genji slipped lightly down from the cupboards, to the fridge, to the floor, and stood in front of Reinhardt, hands in the monopocket of his Blackwatch hoodie.

“Come again?” Reinhardt blinked.

“You said, ‘if we ever need lessons,’” said Genji.

“You... want dancing lessons?” Reinhardt scratched at his temple.

Genji’s shoulders stiffened, and his head swung around the room, and he even went so far as to peek around Reinhardt to check the doorway to see if anyone was heading down the hall before attempting to nonchalantly resume his pocketed hands pose, “...Yes,” he said finally.

“Ah! Well, you know you and the doctor are welcome to join us! We usually practice on Wednesdays, but we’re also flexible with weekends--” Reinhardt started but that just seemed to fluster Genji.

“No, it’s--Angela--I mean Doctor Ziegler’s... busy. She would never--I--I mean-- this has nothing to do with her! I just...think it’s a good skill to learn... with Blackwatch benched. Coordination. Like you said,” he folded his arms tightly across himself and glanced off, “Only so many training bots I can destroy over and over...” he muttered coolly.

“Of course,” said Reinhardt, utterly unconvinced, before jovially putting his hands on his hips. “Well then! Genji Shimada, consider me your dance teacher!”

“Would it be possible for you not to say that so loud--” Genji started.

“The first lesson of dance is passion!” Reinhardt declared, “Passion, and of course, research! Your first assignment is to watch the greatest dance film of all time...!” Reinhardt clenched a fist with determination, “Dirty Dancing.”

“What?” Genji tilted his head, one eye squinting.

“You’ve never heard of Dirty Dancing?” Reinhardt gawked, “It’s a cultural icon!” 

[wellthebardsdead]

Reinhardt: *following siebren out into a field blanketed by starlight and the rising moon* if I’d of known your plans for date night included a night time picnic I would have brought my coa-

Siebren: *suddenly pulls it out of one of the baskets before excitedly floating the large blanket into place and setting everything down before putting together a telescope* if what I heard is correct we should be in time to catch it!

Reinhardt: catch what?? *sits down and blinks as siebren suddenly puts some headphones onto him*

Siebren: quickly look into the telescope before we miss it!

Reinhardt: *does as he’s told and stares in wonder at a distant star* its beautiful but what- *freezes seeing it suddenly ripple then twist with energy as a sound like someone tracing their finger on a crystal glass to make a melodic tone rings from the headphones* what was-

Siebren: A starquake… my second favourite sound in the melody, I hear them often and they all sound different. I wanted you to hear and see what I do.

Reinhardt: *smiles taking off the headphones* it was beautiful, but if that’s your second favourite sound, what’s your actual favourite?

Siebren: *plants himself firmly on the blanket and scooches himself into the crusaders arms resting his head against his chest* your heartbeat of course…

Reinhardt: *chuckles and pulls him closer into a warm and loving embrace* Mein zaubermaus…

———

Based on the sound starquakes make via radio signals! ~Bambi

[theartistknownaslymond]

Also this could be a request but do you have any thoughts about maybe like… we’ve talked a lot about Jerott’s nostalgia music with his dad, does he have anything with his mom? Generally Jerott + French (language/artist/etc) music would be fun :)

Yesssssssssssssssss

"You and I are not even Knights of the Order - we are renegade French, liable to lead the Sultan personally into the Grand Master's room." [Disorderly Knights]

nous sommes des renégats

1) Georges Brassens - Les philistins 2) Warda - El Baghbaghan 3) Jean Ferrat - Camarade 4) Jacques Dutronc - Le responsable 5) Dahmane El Harrachi - Ya Rayah 6) Johnny Hallyday - Dans un jardin d'amour 7) El Hachemi Guerouabi - El bareh 8) Leonard Cohen - The Partisan 9) Umm Kulthum - Al Atlaal 10) Nick Drake - Three Hours 11) Fadhéla Dziria - Mal h'bibi malou 12) Django Reinhardt & Quintette du Hot Club - Nature Boy 13) Renaud - Marche à l'ombre 14) TRUST - Antisocial 15) Cheikha Rimitti - Charak gataa 16) Sapho - Marrakech 17) Renaud - Si t'es mon pote 18) Bérurier Noir - Porcherie 19) Rachid Taha - Voilà voilà 20) Cheikha Rimitti - NOUAR

Usual deal: background information below the cut. Faceclaims: Viveik Kalra for Jerott, and Aure Atika for his mum, Kahina.

Bonus feelings about canon: Jerott Blyth is French, he’s born in Nantes, though his father’s Scottish, which is why they’re both at Solway. The quote I took the playlist title from induced unexpected Feels about his specific ‘pledged to a dead girl as opposed to pledged to the Order’ situation, where it’s implied that even inside this community he’s made himself part of, he’s always treated with suspicion by some for where he was born.

Georges Brassens - Les philistins I honestly had no idea how foul-mouthed Georges Brassens was! He was anti-establishment, anti-organised religion, generally anarchic and critical of French society. What a legend. Anyway, this is quite innocent by his standards and Kahina, having discovered him on her arrival in Paris, is smitten and probably sings it as a lullaby to baby Jerott. Get him listening to those guitar heroes early! <Philistines, grocers, while you were caressing your wives,

dreaming of litte ones that your uncouth appetites engender,

you thought "They'll be clean shaven, round bellied lawyers."

But to punish you as you deserve one day you'll seeing coming into the world

some unwanted children who will become long-haired poets.> Warda - El Baghbaghan Warda Al-Jazairia was one of Algeria's biggest stars. She started off singing at her father's cabaret - which was busted in the early days of the war for concealing weapons for the FLN. After living in Lebanon for a while with her mother's family, she returned to marry in Algeria in the 1960s and her husband forbade her from making music. Ten years later, following a request by the president of Algeria that she perform again, she and her husband divorced (she actually remarried and divorced a second time, too). Are you sensing Kahina might see her as an important role model? :') Unfortunately I had to rely on Google translate for the gist of this one, but I can again see Kahina liking to sing this one to Jerott, particularly once he starts showing an aptitude for music: <He memorizes what you say and studies it all night long You get to see him and he says it again by himself too Like a smart student who doesn't study for the exam He gets upset when I say a word that angers him in particular And he rejoices when you fix it with plant sugar He gets upset when I say a word that angers him in particular And he rejoices when you fix it with plant sugar He sings all the songs and imitates the melodies He sings all the songs and imitates the melodies I hide it and it is sweet and I will save any song Nor has he ever been rebellious, nor has he been confused in the tones Like a smart student who doesn't study for the exam> Jean Ferrat - Camarade Ferrat was a vocal Communist, but the Warsaw Pact invasion in 1969 led him to write this out of disillusionment and frustration. Kahina knows the feeling all too well. <It's a terrible name Comrade It's a terrible name to say At a time such as a masquerade It can only shudder What have you come to do Comrade What have you come to do here It was at five o'clock in Prague That the month of August was obscured Comrade Comrade

It's a cute name Comrade It's a cute name you know My heart beats like a drum roll To make it live forever The cherry and the grenade are united With a hundred May flowers> Jacques Dutronc - Le responsable Inescapable French rock #1! And it is absolutely a bop. Probably gives off vibes of how Kahina views Jawad, the responsible provider who wants to fix everything for her and Jerott: <The more worries I have, the happier I am I whip them up like cream What I like most is being sick with worry I feed on the worries every which way

But I also like catastrophes Which put my life in relief When things are going well, I am unhappy When things are going poorly, I am very happy> Dahmane El Harrachi - Ya Rayah Like some of the other Algerian singers on this playlist, he's not from a similar background to Kahina, but he ended up living in France and playing French cafés, giving Kahina a chance to introduce Jerott to châabi music, in particularly his own compositions which, like this one, tended to focus on immigrant life and a longing for the homeland. This is one of his biggest hits. If Jerott ever stops to work on his Arabic properly, these lyrics are going to be a gut punch for him: <Oh Traveler, where are you going? You'll leave, get tired and eventually come back Haven't you realised how many unwise people regretted this decision before you and I did?

How many overpopulated countries and deserted areas have you seen? How much time have you wasted and how much more are you planning on wasting? Oh stranger, you never cease to run in foreign lands Destiny and time will follow their course, yet you turn a blind eye> Johnny Hallyday - Dans un jardin d'amour Inescapable French rock #2! Come on. There has to be a bit of Johnny Hallyday in baby Jerott's life. Kahina probably has a video recording of him dancing to this from just before the divorce is finalised and kind of loves tormenting him with it later. By then he can play along with the guitar, too. El Hachemi Guerouabi - El bareh Another châabi player - maybe Kahina wanted Jerott to take up the mandole, but guitar was a good enough compromise. Notable because, out of fear of foreign influence on Algerian music, he ended up revolutionising the genre himself to keep up with the times. Another song where I had to rely on Google translate, but it seems to be about a kind of melancholic yearning for youth and possibility. Leonard Cohen - The Partisan Not as specific about who the enemy is as the original French language version, and probably all the more appealing to Kahina and Jerott for that. Umm Kulthum - Al Atlaal This is a tiny, tiny instrumental sample of the song, which is often over an hour long when performed live [Sapho, see below, recorded a version in the 2000s]. Umm Kulthum was probably inescapable for Kahina, even though she's Egyptian not Algerian, as she was the biggest Arabic-language musician around. As with many of her songs, Al Atlaal is based on poetry, in this case the poetry of Ibrahim Nagi, a writer and medical doctor. Even aside from Ibrahim's successful combination of art and career (looking at you, Jawad!) Kahina would identify with the lyrics: <Give me my freedom, let go of my hands, I gave (everything) and left nothing (to be given) Ah, your chain is bleeding my wrist, why do I keep it when it's kept nothing of me What's my keeping of promises you didn't protect, and what's the imprisonment when I have all of life> Nick Drake - Three Hours An incredible guitarist, and the drums in this track are a little reminiscent of raï drumming I think. Nick Drake barely sold in the UK, so I doubt Jerott got hold of his albums in Paris, but Kahina's music primes him to really love this when he discovers it - probably only after reading Drake's obituaries in the music press in 1975 (CW suicide references, depression, schizophrenia, drug use), when he's living in Glasgow. Drake studied in France before university and worked with Françoise Hardy, another connection that would intrigue Jerott - though not entirely for good reasons, to be honest. Inside teenage Jerott are two wolves, one of which objectively finds Hardy hot, the other of which sees her talking about 'anti-French racism' and is thoroughly grossed out. There's a reason she was never on Kahina's record player! Anyway it's a Nick Drake song Jerott drunkenly seduces Peder the OC with in Más é an ceol bia an ghrá. And of all the records he buys in Glasgow, this is one he can take to Paris and play Kahina and know she’ll like too. Fadhéla Dziria - Mal h'bibi malou Another important female singer in Algerian musical history, this time representing the Andalusian style/hawzi music. She and her sister were involved in fund-raising for the FLN (and apprently she was 'married for a short time at age 13'(!) so another example of a separated, successful woman for Kahina?). This is a big old heart-broken folk song, and it's not like Kahina stops loving Jawad when she sends him away: <Oh beloved, have some mercy You abandoned me with no reason You forgot all our sweet memories And you hurt me You wasted my time You lost me And ran after another I don't regret loving Allah knows what I feel inside He's the only one who could help me forget you And heal my wounds> Django Reinhardt & Quintette du Hot Club - Nature Boy The song is originally about the 'Wandervogel' proto-hippy movement, and was picked up and made big by Nat King Cole and covered by loads of people. It anticipates Jerott’s sannyasin calling somewhat. This is an instrumental interpretation by one of the best guitarists of the twentieth century, a Franco-Romani musician who made guitar the centre of a jazz band for the first time. BIG influence for both Jerott and Francis. This is probably one of the last albums Jerott gets for himself before moving to Glasgow. Renaud - Marche à l'ombre Outspoken leftwing rocker - he features on the Francis/Philippa pining playlist, but this is from an earlier album. It lists the kind of people a conservative barfly would hate, and touches on nearly every aspect of Jerott's personality/his family, so he's probably a fan of ironically singing along to it and showing off with the twiddly guitar part: <When this dirty hippie Got out of his Volkswagen Kombi That he parked like a rag In front of my pub I told to Bob who was playing pinball << Look at this scatterbrained that is coming You see his look ? What a pity ... >> Patchouli, Pataugas shoes A guide book in the pocket Are Krishna down to the grave Henna in the hairs Pierced ears I am sure, I can make a bet That he will beg for a hundred bucks To go to Kathmandu Or elsewhere in Nepal Before he could say a single word I took the guy by the overcoat

And I told him You, you're getting me on my nerves And you shouldn't be in my world Get outta here, you're not from my gang Get out, you stink And walk in the shade> TRUST - Antisocial Jerott's angry and lost when he moves back in with Kahina in 1980. He's probably quite happy to listen to unsophisticated angry rock music, and this song is a bit of an inheritor to Le responsable - it's about people just getting on with things for themselves and trampling others as they do, viewing people like that as cut-off from others (in an unhealthy way, not an enlightened way), wasting their lives and encouraging the contempt of others. So not really how Jerott wants to think of himself 'giving up' and getting a professional career, but. The thought is there, and he doesn't really like himself for it. (Lucky that nice Swami Geetesh is there to give him another option) Cheikha Rimitti - Charak gataa Apparently this is a song encouraging girls to get out there and lose their virginity, take ownership of their sexuality, and, to be reductive, it's basically the Algerian equivalent of rock and roll from the 1950s. It's radical and it's badass. Cheikha Rimitti was on the streets as a teenager and joined a group of travelling musicians, singing 'songs of the street' about sex, alcohol, dancing and getting on with living life. She obviously didn't go down well with Islamist revolutionaries, nor with moralising colonial powers - she was banned from performing in Algeria in the '60s and lived in France for a while, performing to ex-pats. She's from an exceedingly different background to Kahina, who, worldly as she tries to appear, is probably knocked for six by some of the lyrics when she first hears them. But the sense of being rejected by both sides in the War of Independence and Rimitti's sheer grit and passion for her art is going to make her a huge favourite of Kahina's. And Jerott appreciates rock and roll, wherever it's coming from. Sapho - Marrakech Moroccan-French singer who embraced her Arabic language heritage in the '80s on this album (Passions, passons - it's so good, really, go and listen to the whole thing!). She's very inspired by Umm Kulthum, but this track is such a great blend of New Romantic '80s pop and Arabic styles, I don't think Jerott and Kahina would be able to resist it. Renaud - Si t'es mon pote Another Renaud track, this one is here because the lyrics are just *the most* Jerott in Checkmate it is possible for a song to be. Here's a sample (all translations from lyricstranslate): <Well okay, it's late and you're a bit tired of drinking You do drink like a Polish man But you just can't get drunk You are not lucky But don't leave me there I'm blasted like a rat, turned on Okay, I don't care, get the hell outta here I'll pay for the round of drinks You fucker

But if you're my pal, you don't lemme drink alone And you don't complain if you see me crazy I pay you a drink at Ali's Café, the last one I swear If you are my pal, you're following me

Well okay, indeed she's fuckable but I don't know What she can give to you that I can't It's been weeks since you left me for this ass I just can't believe you Be careful, don't let our friendship buried by that slut Who is jealousy from the head to the feet That doesn't know me at all and hate me

But if you're my pal, admit that it's a bit shameful She's not really a nun, she's not Christine Okrent And she got a mental level rather close to the ground If you are my pal, throw her out> Bérurier Noir - Porcherie France's very own anti-fascist anthem from the late '80s! Rachid Taha - Voilà voilà It sounds very '90s because it is, but I needed to put Rachid on here. Rachid lived in Lyon and ran a club in the late 1970s where as a DJ he played a totally wild mix of Algerian and Western music. He's often called a rai artist, but his stuff went way beyond that really. Teen Jerott on a summer holiday before his final year at school would LOVE it. Allegedly Rachid's band's early music might have inspired The Clash's Rock the Casbah (which I should probably have put on this playlist too, but forgot about until I was practically done), so jot that one down. Here's a little excerpt from Rachid's Wiki page that should show why he's important to/an influence on Jerott, even though tbh their careers are happening in parallel: 'These were difficult years since record stores often refused to stock their records "because they didn't want Arabs coming into their shops". There was little money; the band performed in suburbs of Lyon. Taha took a standard patriotic French song entitled "Sweet France" (in French: Douce France) which had originally been recorded by Charles Trenet in the 1940s, kept the lyrics, but sang it with "furious irony" which irritated many French listeners, particularly coming from a "scruffy, bohemian-looking Arabic singer", to the point where Taha's version was banned from French radio.' <The lesson was not learned Remember they chose to forget Everywhere I hear what they say Foreigners you are the cause of our problems Me I thought it was all over But in fact, it was only a pause Voilà, voilà, it starts again Everywhere and in la douce France Voilà, voilà, it starts again> Cheikha Rimitti - NOUAR More Cheikha Rimitti because she was amazing, and this shows the kind of collaborations she ended up doing more recently. Plus, yes, the lyrics seem to be addressed to one 'Danny'. يا داني و داني دان داني دايني يالالة – Hey, Danny, Danny, Dan, Danny, Denny, what a machine. أﻧﺎ وﻏﺰاﻟﻲ ﻓﻲ اﻟﺠﺒﻞ نلقط ﻓﻲ اﻟﻨﻮار – Me and my deer in the mountain, catching in the light. أﻧﺎ وﻏﺰاﻟﻲ ﻫﺎ لالة – Me and my deer are a machine.