Being a record of the ruminations, ramblings and obsessions of a Hound of the noblest breed (or so His Lordship claims, anyway). The focus being on dark music and culture, style, spirituality and - naturally – Basset Hounds.
Welcome to the chronicles of Lord Bassington-Bassington, coming to you from Little Storping in the Swuff – a quaint place located somewhere between England’s Lake District and the outskirts of the Norwegian capital.
This is intended as a log of His explorations of music, books, films and so on. I, your humble chronicler, is merely His Lordship’s secretary.
For more information on Lord Bassington-Bassington, please confer this blog’s opening post. Contacts can be directed to neofolk@zog.no.
Lord Bassington-Bassington's attempts to get hits by copying The Sartorialist continues. So here The Chronicles have the pleasure of bringing an iPhone-snapshot of a stylish young gentleman, Edvard, met on the streets of Oslo this Friday. Edvard's drooping ears are absolutely perfect for the upcoming season.
But then, come to think of it, drooping ears are perfect for every season.
It’s May 17th, Constitution Day here in Lord Bassington-Bassington’s homeland of Norway. This makes it appropriate to share some thoughts about patriotism expressed through music and lyrics.
While His Lordship is undoubtedly fond of his country, he finds much patriotic and nationalistic music hard to swallow. Sure, he loves his country, but he finds the blindly insisting patriotism that characterizes such music somewhat, well, un-Norwegian. For while Norwegians tend to be fond of their country, they are often acutely aware of its faults.
While songs that express such pragmatic patriotism are hard to come by in Norway, there is an outstanding example of this in another mountainous country with a glorious past, namely Austria.
In Austria, the Austropop singer Rainhard Fendrich’s song “I Am From Austria” serves as an unofficial national anthem. The song is not only a beautiful pop song, but also a very moving meditation on what it means to have – and love – a country.
(Mr. Fendrich)
This live version of “I Am From Austria” is performed by the group Austria 3 which consists of Fendrich himself, and renowned Austrian singers Wolfgang Ambros and Georg Danzer.
While Southern dialects of German are very beautiful, Mr. Fendrich’s Alemannic dialect can be a tough nut to crack even for people who have some familiarity with German. So The Chronicles would like to provide a transcripton of the original Alemannic lyrics, taken from this website.
I am from Austria
Dei hohe zeit is lang vorüber und a die höh' hast hinter dir von ruhm und glanz is wenig übersag ma wer ziagt no den huat vur dia ausser mir
I kenn die Leit', I kenn di Ratten die Dummheit die zum Himmel schreit I steh zu dir bei Licht und Schattenjeder Zeit
Do kann i moch'n wos I wül Do bin i Herr do kea I hin Do schmützt des Eis von meiner Sö (Seele) Wia von am Gletscher im April A wenn ma's schon vergessn ham' I bin dei Apfel du mei Stamm. So wia dei Wasser talwärts rinntunwiederstehlich und so hell fast wia die Tränen von am Kindwird a mei Bluat auf amoi (einmal) schö Sog i am Mensch der Welt vio stolzund wann ihr woits a ganz allan (allein) I am from Austria
Es war'n die Störche oft zu beneiden Heit fliag i no füh weiter fuat.I siech die meist, nur von da weit'n wer kann versteh'n wia weh des monchmoi tuat
Do kann i moch'n wos I wül Do bin i Herr do kea I hin Do schmützt des Eis von meiner Sö (Seele) Wia von am Gletscher im April A wenn ma's schon vergessn ham' I bin dei Apfel du mei Stamm. So wia dei Wasser talwärts rinntunwiederstehlich und so hell fast wia die Tränen von am Kindwird a mei Bluat auf amoi (einmal) schö Sog i am Mensch der Welt vio stolzund wann ihr woits a ganz allan (allein) I am from Austria
And for those reader of the Chronicles who do not know German or Alemannic at all, here’s a translation kindly provided by that staunch Styrian, Mrs. Dea. Vielen Dank!
In am from Austria
Your high time is already gone And you even left hell behind There’s only a little bit left from glance and glory, tell me who’s Going to take his hat off to you
I know the people, I know the rats Stupidity screaming to the sky I stand by you In light and darkness, all the time
I can do what I want, Here I come from and to here I belong Ice is melting from my soul Like from a glacier in april Even if we already forgot about it I’m your apple you’re my trunk
As your water is running down Irresistible and so bright Just like the tears of a child And my blood is getting fast So I tell the world full of pride And if you want completely alone I am from Austria
I often envied storks Today I’m flying away even further I often see you only from the distance Who can understand how much that hurts
I can do what I want, Here I come from and to here I belong Ice is melting from my soul Like from a glacier in April Even if we already forgot about it I’m your apple you’re my trunk
As your water is running down Irresistible and so bright Just like the tears of a child And my blood is getting fast So I tell the world full of pride And if you want completely alone I am from Austria
Just as love of a woman, patriotism can be blind. But his this is true love, true patriotism: To see the flaws of one’s beloved clearly, but to still sing its praise.
As readers of this blog will know, Lord Bassington-Bassington’s musical tastes tend towards dark, quiet music. But as many pups of his generation, he was raised on the sounds of hard rock and heavy metal.
As his years have advanced and his ears drooped ever lower, he has lost his taste for such sounds. Not just because bands like this tend to make a terrible racket, but also because hard rock musicians tend to be among the most terribly dressed people on the planet.
However, occasionally His Lordship gets pangs of nostalgia and pines for some real rock’n’roll. But where can one get such music without having to suffer some multimillionaire trying to convince us that he’s coming straight from his job as a mechanic?
Enter brilliant Bostonians The Upper Crust, who are able to rock – or rather, roque – out without ever lowering their sartorial standards (or the volume on their Maréchal amps).
Some people, obviously in an attempt to explain away the insights of The Upper Crust’s incisive lyrics, have tried to interpret the band as some sort of ironic social commentary.
These Chronicles will not be a place to air Lord Bassington-Bassington’s political ideas.
However, His Lordship finds it difficult not to congratulate his fellow Europeans on this day, Victory in Europe Day, which marks the final defeat of the insanity that was the Nazi state.
His Lordship would like to raise his glass in silent tribute to all those who fell victim to the terrible events that took place during the terrible years of Nazism.
The self-titled debut album by Solanaceae, the new project by Kim Larsen of Of the Wand and the Moon, has arrived here at Bassington Manor. But so has the first really hot day of the year, which has resulted in a major bout of laziness. Being a rather large canine, Lord Bassington-Bassington does not deal well with heat.
So instead of dictating something substantial about this little gem of a record to his trusty secretary, His Lordship is content to direct reader of The Chronicles to the first review of the record that has been published, at the intriguing little Swedish web publication The Shadows Commence. Less work for His Lordship, more traffic for these excellent Swedes. Everybody wins!
Lord Bassington-Bassington suspects that the softly sung and spoken sounds of Solanaceae will form a large part of his soundtrack to the coming summer, and from Bassington Manor's most comfortable couch His Lordship gives Solanaceae a big ”two forepaws up!”
