15-12-2003

Barzin

"Five digressions"

On its eponymous debut album, the quiet ethereal music of Barzin blends warm folk music à la Mojave 3 with colder touches à la Low and Mazzy Star. These "Five digressions" weren't written by one single person but by the whole band, so here are a few words to know more about these Canadians.

These are the five words that the members of Barzin picked:
Kurosawa
Bridge
Knife
Nocturne
Dust-light


Kurosawa
The remarkable Japanese director whose film "The Seven Samurai" still feels like headlights through a pitch-black night. His tales are timeless, beautifully rendered moments that speak of things that don't seem to attach themselves to words. Rashomon and Yojimbo are other favorites.


Bridge
I grew up in a city of bridges. Each day I'd pass over a river or an arm of the ocean and I still appreciate that feeling of suspension, of not quite finding the ground.


Knife
My grandmother taught me how to clean fish. She'd sharpen the filet-blade and then hold my hand in hers, as the knife slipped along the belly. It was like a zipper opening the animal while its eye stared straight up at us. I think I'm also thinking of this word because I watched Hitchcock's "Psycho" again last night.


Nocturne
Sad, night-time music. Like owls and crickets. On nocturnal wanderings the world changes. The city feels different, as if it has been dipped in sleep. Everything seems tame and oddly luminous. I think I would be a better person if I took long walks every night.


Dust-light
From the Charles Wright poem "Lost Language." He writes, "I have a hankering for the dust-light, for all things illegible." It makes me think of near darkness when you have to raise your hand in front of you when you walk so as not to bump into something. And the long band of light streaming from the movie projectionist's window, the lights go dim and the movie starts, the light is flecked with dust, with dancing, glittering dust.