|Fileunder: Jazz / Piano|
|Before I started this opus, here is how, in my own words, I pictured the music I wanted to create: |
"To compose a music that would be extra sensitive, beyond sensual, a music of eternal love, infinite, a love one can feel at the heart of nature and human art, without necessarily understanding where it springs from.
To play a music that would be alive for the present but also for an "after life" beyond reach, to knead it, to imagine it, to summon it, to celebrate it, to become media, channels for these timeless, eternal chants. A music that would be very real though, physical, atmospheric, almost levitating, using the colluding of instincts as its sole tempo.
To question everything anew, to start from a clean slate.
Trying to capture the core of what might continue after the last breath. To keep in mind we are passing, through the ephemerality of sound... this sweet impossible dream one still craves for every moment."
"Anywhere! Anywhere! provided it is out of this world!"..."hors de ce monde!"
This quotetakenfrom "petits poèmes en prose, Les paradis artificiels"
Anywhere Out of the World by Charles Baudelaire has always had a special place in my imaginary. As if we could extract ourselves from this world, suspend time, freeze space. Music is, in my opinion, the most elegant way to go, to escape, while remaining alive. The setting of the word "hors" ("out") in this verse fascinates me. I did some research and this is what I found: You can never catch up with the fiery horse that is running, that one cannot see anymore... hors champ...(hors...[out]...horse...)The word "hors" is linked to hurry in English, Ross("horse") in German, courir("run") in French. From Proto-Germanic *hursan("horse"), from*hrussa("run, runner"), from Indo-European*kers("run").
Eventually, the present is neither measurable nor palpable, it passes and perfectly incarnates the instant, it injects into every event the ephemeral feeling of eternity... it is impossible to tame it any other way than by accepting what is. It is this running horse that escapes us for ever. The quest to try and convert this impression into music is vain, but essential.
Out of range, out of sight, out of mind, outlaw, out of scope, outside the rules, out of phase, outside the walls, out of category, out of light, out of bound, out of date, out of the blue, out of order, outstanding, out of my mouth, outside the system, out, out of reach, out of context, out of the way, out of doubt, out of the limits, out of control, out of the ordinary, out of here, out of time, HORS TEMPS.
May these musics, now engraved, accompany the souls eager to free themselves, to travel and to love.
|1||PERRAUD, EDWARD||Hors Sol|
|2||PERRAUD, EDWARD||Chien Lune|
|3||PERRAUD, EDWARD||Hors Piste|
|4||PERRAUD, EDWARD||Flowers Of Skin|
|5||PERRAUD, EDWARD||Fer De Lance|
|6||PERRAUD, EDWARD||Hors La Loi|
|7||PERRAUD, EDWARD||Neguentropie (Dedie A Bernard Stiegler)|