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Dec 16 2020

TO WHERE I AM NOW

It’s Beethoven’s birthday and as the picture shows today, I’m not in Portugal. Well, actually I am, but this is Bonn, close to where Olivia grew up and where Beethoven was born. Whilst we were there earlier this year, we went into the legendary house, now a museum, and closed our eyes and went back to 1770, to that moment 250 years ago. I don’t know if you saw the film Immortal Beloved (1994) with Gary Oldman but the subject matter and title is Beethoven’s life and who was the letter he wrote and never sent actually for? Addressed to his Immortal Beloved, the film claims that it is his sister-in-law Johanna Reiss, historians disagree.

In the exhibition inside the house, there are headphones that give you examples of what Beethoven could hear at different times in his descent to deafness. I’m not sure how they knew but it was terrible if it’s true. Beethoven died at the age of 56 in 1827, he’d left Bonn at the age of 21 and made Vienna his base and it was there that he composed his most famous works, you don’t have to be into classical music to know the “riff” of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony – the Smoke On The Water of classical riffs. Happy Birthday, Ludwig.

The streets of Porto were a mixture of emptiness and action tonight. We left the flat at 6.30 PM to go to the shops. It was 11 degrees and after 5 minutes I realised I was way overdressed – again. I don’t seem to be able to dress according to the temperature, it doesn’t help when it’s the Centigrade scale (11 degrees), I need the Fahrenheit scale (51 degrees) but in reality, even that doesn’t tell me much. So I was soon hanging my big coat over my bag, if it’s not really cold or really hot I’m confused. Well, at least it wasn’t raining. Around the corner I had my first offer of hashish, it was from one of these men who stand by the road at night trying to draw cars into parking spots, I guess it’s for tips. The problem is that there are lots of parking spots so I’m not sure that a driver would need any help and want to pay for it but these people need those small amounts, desperately trying anything however unlikely.

Further up the street, a police car’s dazzling blue lights were spinning around and there was a small crowd of people standing around with one man on the ground. It was all happening opposite the fountain where the crack smokers hang. It looked like the man on the ground had OD’d. There were three people standing, a policeman talking to one of them and a woman sitting by the fountain also being talked to by a policeman. She looked upset, I don’t know how it played out, they were gone when we came back this way.

Up past São Bento station, past the dormant taxis and the huddle of taxi drivers ogling Olivia as we walked by, I gave them two fingers. One hesitates to stereotype taxi drivers or the patriarchy of southern Europe or groups of men, but the reality is if I wasn’t with her it would be worse as she describes to me often when she has been out alone – anywhere. We walked on up the street, taking a different route to the supermarket to avoid the super steep hill, past the DJ shop with turntables and speakers galore, headphones, and flashing lights. We walked past the music shop with the Portuguese guitars in the window, local traditional instruments mixed with effects pedals and electric guitars, electronics, and modern gadgets.

In the supermarket, the veggie products section remains almost empty, as if they’re surprised that we buy them. We were in and out, we know the shop now and where things are. As we headed back through the centre to Ribeira by the river, another offer of hashish. No thank you I said, he seemed grateful that I replied so politely. It hadn’t got much colder and as we walked through the streets downhill towards the river, many restaurants were open but there were few people inside. We just missed the closer supermarket where we buy the water, saves carrying the heavy bottles across town. I realised that it doesn’t feel like Christmas, despite the lights in the trees and the decorations in the street and it’s not just because we are in the city where it doesn’t snow, it’s the lack of joy, of celebration, there’s no hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers, no shops staying open a little later the week before the big day. It’s the end of a traumatic year that the whole world wants to be over.

Music today is, you guessed it, the Black Sabbath, the Deep Purple, the Led Zeppelin of classical music, Beethoven’s 5th Symphony (1804-1808).

Piece Of The Daze

Written by Marty Willson-Piper · Categorized: Blog

Missing

This is my stolen 1965 Rickenbacker 12-string, serial number EB157. If there's any chance of this guitar coming back to me before I go to meet my maker, then that would be wonderful. Please contact me if you have any information.

11209512_1669022976719710_7288437867089763325_n

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Redeyed lad of the lowlands 🎵 📷 @oliviaelek Redeyed lad of the lowlands 🎵

📷 @oliviaelektra 

#danelectro #danelectrobass #redeyerecords #pleasantrylane #pleasantrylanestudio
You usually don’t spend the day in the studio an You usually don’t spend the day in the studio and the night at a gig but if you put the studio next to the gig then there’s a greater chance. So @salimnourallah did just that, he put the gig and the studio next to each other and made it possible for me to spend the day recording and the evening playing live 🎵

📷 @drewliophoto 

#galacticheadquarters #happinessarecordlabel #pleasantrylanestudio #salimnourallah #oliviawillsonpiper
TO WHERE I AM NOW A visit in the studio today fro TO WHERE I AM NOW

A visit in the studio today from old mate Mark Burgess from The Chameleons who has been hanging in Texas recently. I was thinking about the two of us growing up in the northwest of England and all these years later finding ourselves in such an unlikely spot together. We fixed a few issues in the universe and I carried on recording some guitars until Mark had to leave. Mark had played at the Galactic Headquarters next to the studio this year as Olivia and I had four years ago and this reminded me to remind myself to remind everyone to remind their friends that we will be playing there with Salim on Saturday, New Year’s Eve, for the ultimate in intimate performance. You can get tickets here (follow link below).

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TO WHERE I AM NOW Sadness manifested in a buildin TO WHERE I AM NOW

Sadness manifested in a building, today we went to visit Paisley Park. Prince built Paisley Park in Chanhassen, about twenty minutes southwest of Minneapolis. It opened in 1987 and he recorded his later albums there. Apart from Prince, REM also recorded and mixed Out Of Time there, recording Kate Pearson’s vocal on Shiny Happy People vocal. Madonna had Prince play guitar on three songs from Like A Prayer and the two co-wrote Love Song, finishing it remotely due to Madonna not being able to stand the cold weather and the rather desolate location of the studio. Of course, there are things around but it’s not in the city and it’s not in the countryside, it’s in a suburb, no distractions, just what Prince wanted.

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At last, a proper door stop. 📷 @judgeschamber At last, a proper door stop.

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🌵 Texas Acoustic Dates 🌵 31 December - DALL 🌵 Texas Acoustic Dates 🌵

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"These are awesome sessions that I highly recommend for guitar players of all levels. Very informative, frank discussions on everything related to guitar and music in general. Definitely a must for anyone pursuing songwriting."
(Stephen G., VA, USA)

"Marty knows how to bypass scales and get to the heart of feel and timing. His musical knowledge spans multiple cultures and genres. Perhaps most importantly, Marty is a cool dude. I highly recommend his guitar guidance." (Jed B., MN, USA)

"Ok, so you’re sitting in your home and Marty is across the world but is actually right here teaching you how to play guitar and write songs. He is a delight to talk to and he is your teacher, meaning he wants to see you get something out of his lessons. You know he’s paying attention and wants to steer you in the right direction. I am so grateful and humbled that he offers his time in this manner. This is an amazing opportunity for anyone who admires anything from his enormous body of work. How often do you get to learn from somebody that inspired you in the first place? Amazing." (Ann S., CA, USA)

Missing

This is my stolen 1965 Rickenbacker 12-string, serial number EB157. If there’s any chance of this guitar coming back to me before I go to meet my maker, then that would be wonderful. Please contact me if you have any information.

11209512_1669022976719710_7288437867089763325_n

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