Seriously, people. What the hell is wrong with me?
This always happens, and always the same way: I sit down at my computer, google some new thing that interests me (of late, all things Turkish), and walk away hours later with an overloaded brain and a greatly diminished bank account. In this case, I was following up on some of the musicians I discussed in an earlier post when I came upon a 2005 documentary entitled “Crossing the Bridge: The Sound of Istanbul.”
Big mistake.
Manohla Dargis’ New York Times review calls it an “infectiously enjoyable survey of contemporary Turkish music,” best viewed “standing up, or, more ideally, while swaying, spinning and shimmying.”
Bigger understatement.
Sadly, it wasn’t streaming on Amazon Prime or Netflix, so I ordered the DVD, purchased and downloaded the soundtrack, and started watching various segments on YouTube.
Biggest miscalculation.
Before long, I was completely in love with a woman named Aynur Doğan, who surely knows she must marry me and sing to me in That Voice for the rest of my life. Naturally I felt compelled to search out my beloved’s music on Spotify, which led me, by a commodius vicus of recirculation, to an album entitled Mujeres de Agua. Hmmmm…if Aynur is to be my life’s companion, then, clearly, I need to rethink my value system. I’m going to require an entire harem. Just to mention the singers I already knew, I now found myself face-to-face (or ear-to-ear) with that smokey-voiced, sensual goddess Buika, the heart-melting Mariza, the primal longing of Carmen Linares…even the more commercial stylings of La Shica‘s Elsa–each in her own way opening doors for my ears to travel.
[Editor’s note: although it could be a quirk in my translation skills, I can report with a high degree of confidence that each of these women has chosen a song for the album containing the rather unexpected lyric “How I long for thee, O Transglobalist, to be mine/Thou art so deserving of my love/I will be with thee forever/The Ages will sing songs of our love.” No. Really. That’s what they’re singing. I’m certain of it.]
*sigh*
In any case, I found myself powerless to resist this cycle: explore related artists on Spotify, listen, locate on Amazon, download MP3(s), repeat. With each repetition, the proverbial cash register rang the sale, tallying my descent into the bottomless pit of this horrible addiction:
And so, Dear Reader, my travels may be over e’er they begin, as the Powers That Be cart me off to debtor’s prison, where I will spend my remaining years incarcerated, paying off these ill-advised purchases via hard labor.
In the meantime, I was inspired to create another playlist for your sonic enrichment.
Let’s call it Outlaw Panda Records Playlist #2:
Your friendly neighborhood Transglobalist,
Over and Out…
