Hi, my love. It’s good to see you again. I had a bonkers day to end a bonkers week and almost didn’t make the Taali Talk Sunday but it’s 10:47 CET so I’ve got one more hour and 13 more minutes and god bless.
Truly truly truly, the European time difference has been the greatest thing to ever happen to my life / productivity / business. It, more than anything, has been the thing I’m most reluctant to ever say goodbye to in a distant future that I very much imagine because I am extremely Jewish and like to feel anxiety about things in the near, far, and forever future.
More than bikes. More than perfect tomatoes (what is it about Dutch produce that is *so much* better?!) More than my wüdbürner, even. The ability to be 6-*9* hours ahead is the greatest thing to ever happen to this artist business lady.
Because basically I can have a good day or I can have a shit day, but when I inevitably screw my head on straight, which is anywhere from 8 pm to midnight, America is just waking up.
So good morning, America! Or good afternoon at this point? I have a great song to talk to you about.
It is by Arik Einstein, a glorious Israeli singer I grew up on, and it has been my soundtrack over here in perfectly gloomy Amsterdam.
Close your eyes and just listen so you can avoid this truly spectacular ‘90s extravaganza below, or I don’t know, keep em open and love Arik Einstein and Shalom Hanoch for all of their deeply deeply 1997 choices.
I’m addicted to the tinny almost jokingly pop piano. The completely unironic pop drums. The fullness of a song devoted to and completely in support of the vocal line. The beautiful stylistic Israeli melody - a short melodic/rhythmic motif, repeated and stretched over barlines and changing chords. I’ve realized as I listen how much this style has influenced my own songwriting, both for myself and others.
I swear, man. I’m playing this song everywhere. This song on repeat and me walking drizzly streets with big headphones, a mask and my feeeeeeelings. I was so immersed in the musical elements that, very much unlike me, I didn’t pay attention to the lyrics.
On a dime this week though, I decided to check in on some that were stumping me (my Hebrew is solid, but not as fluent as it used to be). And that’s when my proverbial socks got knocked off.
Take a second with me to jump into these INSANELY PERTINENT translated lyrics. You ready?!
In a small, slightly dark apartment
Not far from here, in a side alley
Lives one man with one woman
Life is all that comes on handThey move round and round
He's on guitar, she's on violin.
They change strings when the winter comes
She looks up, he sinks into it
Then a hand, a light touch
A kiss in the air he sends herThey move round and round
Like a guitar and a violin
He's the time and she's the light.On Friday nights,
Love a lot, talk a little
Playing a duet and all at once,
The sounds rise and the heart quiversThey move round and round
He's on guitar and she is on violin.When the summer comes, they spread a wing
Following a dream they dreamed in the fall
And they did not say if they would come back
From the mountains of Nepal, from the grasslands of PeruWandering round and round
He's on time and she's on light
With guitar and violin.
In a small, slightly dark apartment
Not far from here in the side alley
Lives in one man with one woman
Man. My gut has been punched to the extent that it can be punched. I am now happily gut less. This song feels written for us. And was written in 1997. Probably completely abstractly. Definitely not about a musician couple living in Amsterdam during a global pandemic for a year.
But that’s the magic of a song, right? At its best, that’s what a really good one can do - speak to the total simplicity and utter complexity of our lives. When I hear that one of my songs has done that for someone, it swells my heart up. It keeps me going. Maybe someday I’ll run into Shalom Chanoch and tell him that his has done it for me, in one of the most turbulent moments of my life. Maybe I won’t. I’m happy to share his brilliant song with you in the meanwhile.
To that end, I’ve been thinking of maybe including a little video in these taalitalks of me singing a song I’m digging, or even (!!) one you can request. Lmk if that’s something you’d be into.
Until then, sending you every ounce of my Dutch love, and can’t wait to see you next week.
t
While everyone is a writer, because who hasn't made a grocery list and who doesn't remember writing Valentine's Day cards when we were growing up, not everyone writes with heart, movement, and spirit. Taali, you have demonstrated this as a lyricist time and time again, for which I am very grateful. That you choose to do this while you and José are adjusting to a lifechanging, lives changing, remarkable experience in Amsterdam is a gift to us. I hope it feels good for you. To everything you shared today, and the weeks past, well done, HELL yes, and thank you.