Tunisia
We had just moved to a council house on a new estate out on the edges of the city, brushing shoulders with what had been open countryside and farmland for countless generations. A radically different environment from the Victorian tenements we had lived in for the first eleven years of my life. Peter had just been born; we had a new car (a Reliant Rebel 700); Dad had a great job; I had just begun grammar school. A time of real change, hope, aspiration and expectation!
So North Africa then ....? I had read about these far away places in the adventure books I had at the time; I even had a set of Arab and Foreign Legion soldiers that would re-enact all of the Beau Geste campaigns I imagined. But Tunisia was a long way from the hard realities of Liverpool at the end of the sixties. I was not prepared for the effect that it had on me and that I still carry to this day.
My Mum and Dad gave me the chance to stand at the edge of the Sahara watching the camel caravans appear out of the shimmering heat. They took me to places that those on a package holiday could not have experienced; into real villages with real people and real smells. To wander between rows of ancient shops inside the fortified walls of the medinas. To stand at the tip of a fabulously decorated minaret and look out over a buildings that had withstood storms, wars and time. Even arranging a personal tour of President Bougiba's palace.
The piece uses ordinary acoustic guitar tuned to a DADGAD tuning, which gives it an ancient runic feel; the percussion is from a phased shakey egg, compressed thigh-slaps and a mix of tabla and djembe; it is filled out with a sphere comprising of FM strings and "Spirit Voice" sample from the Proteus sampler. All recorded and mixed in Ableton Live.
While this music may or may not be representative of that culture, it does describe the memory I have left and perhaps that is enough in itself.