Careless Interpretation : The Diary of A Music-Junkie

Rio, 2026

pagi ini seseorang datang ke rumah gw. gw denger suara belnya berdenting ketika gw masih berada di kamar mandi. gw berteriak memanggilnya, berharap supaya dia menunggu gw, tapi tampaknya dia ga mendengar gw. gw buru2 membasuh kepala gw yg penuh sabun shampoo, agak sebal juga karena waktu2 inilah biasanya yg paling gw nikmati dari cuci kepala. uap menghembus keluar dari kamar mandi ketika pintunya gw buka. tetes2 air jatuh kemana2, dari bagian badan gw yg belom sempurna gw seka. tertatih2 gw jalan menuju pintu. mengintip lewat lubangnya..tidak ada siapa2. penasaran dan takut pengamatan gw ga sempurna, gw memutuskan untuk membuka pintu.
ga ada siapa2 tuh. kepala gw mendongak keluar, lirik kanan kiri, berusaha untuk make sense what had happened. perasaan gw baru aja 2-3 menit sejak ‘orang’ itu ngebel. sial..
wups apa ni? mata gw terantuk sama sesuatu yg disandarkan di dinding sebelah kiri pintu. benda itu tipis. ukurannya kira2 40 kali 40 cm. bungkus plastik kuningnya bertuliskan sesuatu yg cukup familiar: COVER MUSIC. hmm, gw tau itu, pikir gw. itu kan toko piringan hitam di zoologischer garten berlin yg sering gw datengin bertaun2 yg lalu. wah, alamatnya juga tepat, Kurfurstendamm (KuDamm) 31.. iya ga salah lagi, orang ini..siapapun itu..telah memilih, dari semua bungkus plastik toko yg ada di dunia ini, satu bungkus plastik yg gw sangat familiar banget. ada2 aja pikir gw..
benda yg dibungkus plastik kuning itu gw angkat. ringan. ukurannya bujursangkar. sangat tipis. hmmm. cuma ada 2 benda di dunia yg gw tau yg bs punya dimensi kya gini. one of them is not important, but the other..
dengan gerakan singkat gw rogoh isi plastik itu.
ahaaaaaa!! it is what i think it is!
sebuah piringan hitam…+++
untung bukan kalender tahunan pikir gw..
tanpa banyak tunggu gw baca tulisan di cover piringan hitam itu. tapi sebelum sempet gw selesai membaliknya, sebuah perasaan yg familiar muncul mengguyur tubuh gw. perasaan yang udah lama sekali ga gw rasakan. perasaan yg bener2 enak dan one-of-a-kind buat gw: perasaan waktu ngebuka a freshly pressed, mint record. hmmm.. gw cuma bs tersenyum..
dari belakang, cover plat ini didominasi sama warna hitam. ga menor, ga rame. ada tulisan2 kecil berwarna putih diatasnya, biasanya cuma judul track dan identitas label. ga sabar, gw membalik plat itu. di depannya ada foto seorang musisi yg amat sangat familiar untuk gw.. dada gw berdegup kencang.. sekian mili detik lewat sebelum gw sampai ke judulnya yg cuma ditulis dengan desain yg simple tapi cantik. huruf2 bergaya perancis dengan lengkung2 yg seolah bertarian berjajar menampilkan katanya: Corcovado (Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars).
sepercik senyum terbit di pelipis bibir gw.
mata gw memicing, ga terasa senyum gw udah lebar.

sebuah German reissue dari album Antonio Carlos Jobim..

i cant believe it…
pikiran pertama gw adalah siapa yg ngirim ini buat gw. how…how kind of her..hehe setidaknya itulah yg ada dibayangan gw, seorang wanita. apalagi yg diinginkan pria seperti gw yg baru aja gagal lagi dalam kehidupan cintanya. mungkinkah cewe itu yg baru aja gw temuin di pesawat.. ato mungkin tetangga manis yg tadi pagi menyapa gw dari balik terasnya.. hm ga mungkin ga mungkin.. orang ada plastik kuningnya seperti ini.. she, (or is it a he??), must somehow connected to me through berlin, atau bahkan mungkin datang dari sana. siapa ya? siapa ya? aduh dada gw berdegup kencang penasaran, memikirkan kemungkinan2 yg ada..
tanpa gw sadari, pagi itu gw udah terduduk di kursi sebelah cermin besar di door hallway. bayangan2 berlin melintas di kepala gw, melintas secepat kereta2 ICE jerman yg membelah2 jerman ibarat pisau kue yang memotong kue ulang taun gw baru lewat bulan yg lalu.
20 tahun yg lalu.. berlin.. gw ga kuasa menahan senyum. i love those days. karakter2 yg ada dalam hidup gw kala itu bermunculan lagi di kepala. nama2 lama, wajah2 lama berlompatan di benak gw. apa kabar ya dia? kalo dia? dia gimana? hohohoho dia gimana tuh kabarnya? kocak, haru, suka, semuanya campur aduk lagi. ingin semuanya gw telpon satu2 dan gw kirim tiket pesawat untuk dateng kesini. pantai ipanema lagi bagus2nya bulan ini. kemaren baru aja ada festival yg lewat di depan rumah. alangkah serunya kalo mereka semua disini. menari mengikuti festival samba, mengobrol dialuni jobim dan joao. wow dreamy thoughts!!
gw inget pernah mengobrol dengan seorang teman pd sebuah malam, gw bilang ama dia salah satu impian gw adalah gw bs ngumpulin semua temen gw di satu tempat, mengenalkan mereka satu sama lain, lantas ngobrol2 dan bersenang2 bersama mereka tanpa mikiran apapun, baik kerjaan kek, atau waktu kek, dll, just having fun.. gw bilang lagi bahwa gw udah ketemu caranya, yaitu adalah gw harus jadi sangat amat luar biasa kaya jadi gw bs kirimin mereka tiket satu2 - masing2 buat mereka dan keluarganya juga - dan gw juga mesti cukup berpengaruh jadi gw bs nelponin bos2 mereka satu2 untuk minta supaya mereka dikasih cuti seminggu aja. pasti mereka semua senang pikir gw..
dari khayalan yg tampaknya indah banget seperti itu, tiba2 temen gw yg lagi gw ajak ngomong ini nyeletuk: "yah jelaslah mereka pasti senang either ngumpul ato gak sama lo, orang mereka bs dapet cuti dan tiket gratis!"
sial gw bilang, hmm… hilang deh maksud gw supaya kita bs ngumpul dan bersenang2 bareng..
20 tahun yang lalu.. tapi diskusi itu masih aja terngiang jelas di kepala gw. dan yang lebih parah, diam2 mimpi itu masih gw simpan didalam hati, berharap siapa tau suatu kala nanti keadaannya memungkinkan untuk gw wujudkan.

yah.. siapapun itu yg ngirim dan meletakkan rekaman ini di depan pintu gw, yang pasti gw berterima kasih sekali - dan heran sekali kok bs2nya dia pilih jobim buat gw. adalah album jobim reissued-original yang sekarang sedang gw pegang di tangan gw. sebuah album dari seseorang yang amat sangat gw hormati dan kagumi. he’s almost like part of my heart, tepatnya seperti corong dari hati gw. jobim bs ngungkapin apa yg ada d hati gw, exactly.. dia punya kesensitifan, ke-melankolian, kesederhanaan yg gw kira ga akan gw temuin lagi di dunia selain di diri gw. seolah2 he’s there to proove that i am not alone. that i am not alone for being myself. there is somebody who understands me. udah lama gw selalu mikir setiap kl gw dgr bossanya dia, his notes seems to speak to me. those little notes, those that are only fewer than most other music, those which are only quieter than most other music, prooved to be the ones who talk to me most. to me, its more than music perhaps.. its a code. a secret code. it tries to tell me something. sometimes i think it tries to tell me how powerful and great our creator is. thank you jobim. thank you God..for giving me the opportunity to enjoy and recognize your ’signal’.

sore ini, gw masih blom bs menemukan siapa yg mengirimkan album itu untuk gw. sementara siang sudah hampir berganti jadi malam, debur ombak tampak melunak, menghambur sayup2 di kejauhan bersama laut yg semakin gelap. patio gw yg menghadap ke pantai menggoda gw sebagai peristirahatan terakhir untuk menutup siang hari ini. sejak berhenti dari pekerjaan gw seminggu yang lalu, cuma ini aja yg sering gw lakukan di sore hari: duduk di patio dan menikmati senja di pantai kesenangan gw ini. sudah berapa lama gw bayangkan bs punya rumah pantai, akhirnya setelah sebuah tawaran pekerjaan yang sukses, impian gw itu tercapai. hmm kl gw pikir2, memang ga bs gw pungkiri bahwa selama hidup gw, banyak juga impian2 gw yg udah tercapai. berawal dari kerja di majalah sekitar 22 tahun yg lalu, lantas menjadi seorang penulis, pendiri label, radio, hingga akhirnya yg terakhir ini menjadi managing director di sebuah label jazz brazil. ga terasa berpuluh2 tahun sudah berlalu. waktu memang berjalan dengan cepat..
walau begitu, bukan cuma itu tolak ukur kesuksesan buat gw. punya temen2 yg banyak itu adalah tolak ukur kesuksesan gw juga, meskipun kadang2 ini juga bs merepotkan. tapi di dunia dimana seluruh hidup kita tergantung kepada memori kita, apalagi yg lebih penting daripada memori yg indah yg dibangun ketika kita bersama teman2 dan keluarga kita.
dari semua target hidup gw, cuma satu yg gw blom bs capai, at least dengan sempurna. ini berhubungan sama teman, tepatnya teman hidup..
sejak mantan istri gw meninggalkan gw beberapa bulan yg lalu, harapan gw untuk marriage yg utuh sampai akhir hayat pupus. pahitnya masih terasa sampai sekarang. lantas kejadian d kantor kemaren yg membuat gw resign juga membuat gw semakin patah semangat untuk menemukan the real love of my life.
ada seseorang disitu, di kantor lama gw. dia wanita yg keras dan kokoh dan perangainya bertolak belakang total denganku. selera musik kita juga cukup berbeda - walaupun kita bekerja di label yg sama. untung dia tidak dalam bidang yg sama dengan gw - bidangnya marketing, tepatnya dia international marketing manager. kita pernah berdebat soal jobim yg menurutnya terlalu over-exposed di brazil dan i quote "nothing more than a sad old storyteller". that really put me to rage. bukan hanya karena - dalam hati - jobim is my great hero, tapi karena the ’storyteller’ happens to be brazil’s cultural contribution to the world, and has proved from time to time, from the 60s inception till now, to be a very good music commodity to various market segments, either young or old. gw ga percaya dia bicara seperti itu, sebagai seorang eksekutif marketing dari label yg salah satu major produknya adalah karya2 jobim sendiri. tapi yg menyesakkan adalah because i had fallen in love with her along the way.. sejak gw pindah kesini beberapa tahun yg lalu, wanita ini ga pernah berhenti mesmerizes gw. sikapnya yg tegas, independen, dan know-exactly-what-she-wants menngenalkan gw sama tipe cewe yg blom pernah gw hadapin sebelomnya. tipe cewe yg enerjik, atraktif, dan so alive, tapi pada saat yg sama.. misterius. dia bener2 membuat gw bertekuk lutut. heran setelah berkali2 kesempatan dan bertahun2 memahami wanita, tetap ada wanita yg bs membuat gw seperti ini.
pertengkaran antara kita sepertinya memuncak setelah debat hebat soal jobim itu. setiap kali manager’s meeting misalnya, perbedaan kita sepertinya semakin meruncing.  tapi di saat yg sama, hati gw semakin jauh terbawa oleh dirinya. gw ga pernah bener2 bilang apa yg gw rasakan langsung karena setiap kali pembicaraan kita mengarah personal, sepertinya dia, dengan caranya yg unik, cerdik dan dingin, berhasil mengarahkan gw kembali ke hal2 kantor yg formal dan impersonal lagi. menang gw ga berani menebak, tetapi dari berkali2 usaha gw untuk membawa dia ke pembicaraan personal, mestinya dia dapat mengetahui bahwa ada sekelumit perasaan yg gw simpan buat dia. pada saat yg sama dengan event2 ini, sebuah tawaran dari label baru di brazil datang kepada gw melalui seorang head hunter. label ini akan buka beberapa bulan mendatang. gaji yg mereka tawarkan beserta konsep label ini memang sudah menarik buat gw dari awal, tapi sebenarnya ketegangan dari kantorlah yg membuat gw semakin tertarik lagi untuk meninggalkan label lama tersebut. pada hari terakhir gw di kantor itu, gw meninggalkan sepucuk kartu di meja dia. didalamnya gw tulis dengan tangan sepotong pesan pendek: "its more than nice to know you. despite all our differences, you left me with a mountain of nice impression. goodbye and live well. yours truly. randy."

kilau2 laut keemasan tersisa tinggal sedikit saja di ujung cakrawala. awan2 oranye tampak seperti kapas2 di kanvas berwarna biru tua. laut, rio, dan brazil berada pada saat yg indah2nya pada saat seperti ini. gramofon tua peninggalan ibu gw mengalun sayup2 memainkan Corcovado.
lantunnya:

quiet nights of quite stars
quite chords from my guitar
floating on the silence that surrounds us
quite thoughts and quite dreams
quite walks by quite streams
and the window that looks out on the mountains and the sea
oh how lovely
this is where i wanna be
here with u so close to me
until the final flicker of life’s ember
i, who was lost and lonely
believeing life was only
a bitter tragic joke, have found with you
the meaning of existence o my love…

sembari gw mendengarkan lagu ini, gw mulai berpikir…
nina - wanita yg merebut hati gw di kantor itu - tidak lain dari international marketing manager label. tugas naturalnya adalah mengkoordinasi tugas marketing di seluruh cabang dan afiliasi label - termasuk asia, amerika, dan tentunya eropa. bukan tidak mungkin - bahkan sudah pasti - bahwa dia juga mengurus marketing untuk cabang label di jerman yg kantornya berlokasi di berlin..
bahkan, jika gw ingat2 lagi, minggu lalu, di hari gw resign dari label, dan di hari dimana dia tidak sedang berada di mejanya sehingga gw dpt bebas meninggalkan kartu untuknya, ketidakhadiran dia adalah karena dia harus leave for business trip untuk strategic meeting dengan divisi marketing eropa yg bertempat di berlin..

semuanya masuk akal sekarang.

COVER MUSIC di KuDamm, album Jobim, perdebatan kita..

sepercik senyum terbit di pelipis bibir gw..
gw menatap malam yg sudah datang di pelupuk mata.
sepenggal kata muncul dalam hati..
halo rio, tomorrow is gonna be a very lovely day..

inspired by Jobim and Corcovado the mountain

Crazy For You (Jon Lind, John Bettis) 1985

swaying room as the music starts
strangers makin’ the most of the dark
two by two their bodies become one
i see you through the smokey air
can you feel the weight of my stare
youre so close but still a world away
what im dying to say
is that im crazy for you
touch me once and you know its true
i never wanted anyone like this
its all brand new
youll feel it in my kiiss
im crazy for you

trying hard to control my heart
i walk over to where you are
eye to eye we need no word at all
slowly now we begin to move
every breath im deeper into you
soon we two are standing still in time

if you read my mind
you see im crazy for you
touch me once and you know its true
i never wanted anyone like this
its all brand new
youll feel it in my kiss
youll feel it in my kiss
because im crazy for you
touch me once and you know its true
i never wanted anyone like this
its all brand new
you feel it in my kiss
im crazy for you
crazy for you
crazy for you
crazy for you

pa pa pa pa

its all brand new
im crazy for you
and you know its true
im crazy crazy for you
its all brand new
im crazy for you
and you know its true
im crazy for you
crazy for you baby…

in an apartment
A: Jenny! you gotta come here. i met somebody last night..
J: what? Annn! hello… this is still working hour in case you haven’t notice
A: Yeah i know but you wouldnt believe what happened to me last night. its just..its just wonderful jen..
J: okay, okay, calm yourself down, tell you what, i get over as soon as i finish this stupid deadline i have to catch for tomorrow.
A: okay, but no more excuses about meeting or anything like last time alright. cause ill really gonna blow myself up if i didnt tell this to anyone
J: okay, see u soon alright darling..byeee

at 4 pm
the bell rings. from inside, the stereo plays crazy for you from madonna very loud.
J: (from outside) ann!! its jenny, are you there?
another ring
sound of foot steps on the floor approaching the door, sound of door unlocking quickly. a woman with a little black dress show up.
A: jenny darling! im sorry, didnt hear you, come on in jenny, i can’t wait to tell you what happened.
J: okay, but first could you please turn that music down first please. i think im going deaf soon.
A: (blushed with embarrasment) oh im sorry.. i didnt realize it was that loud.
Jenny sat down, but before it, looks at the untidy apartment - stilletos on the floor, scarf, pearl beads spread from all the way from the door to the couch - then shakes her head with disbelief..
J: didnt you clean up your apartment once in a while?
A: (going back from inside the room after turning the volume of stereo down) oh that was from last night, im sorry, i must have lostth my head (grinning without any feel of sorry)
J: (noticing the little black dress) jenny…! are you still in your last night’s clothes?
A: ha ha ha yes, i didnt want to take it off… his smell is still all over it…(smiling and dreamy eyes)
J: (smiling understandingly) i see, so its about HIM huh.. ok now sit down and tell me what happened. im dying of curiosity..
A: hmmm jen, it was so wonderfull..(tone lowers, dream mode enters)
you remember that i used to go to that bar du paris over the kantianstrasse right.. well, yesterday was special, my publisher wanted the script on sunday, my head is just so tired and sick of anymore writing. so i decided to go to the bar. perhaps trying to knock myself out unconscious with few shots of vodka to ease the dizziness. and then there he was jen, there he was.. the mysterious guy i told you i had met in u bahn a week ago. you remember him??
J: (putting a deep thinking face) hmm,.. is it the one with the funny shirt written ‘good girls to to heaven, bad girls go to berlin’??
A: no..! that one was two weeks ago. this is last week. you remember..the one with the crazy eyes who stared at me all the way from amrumer strasse to zoo garten..
J: ahaaa (smiling satisfactorily) yeah yeah, i remember him, if there were more time, you almost wanna speak to him to shut it off right..?
A: yesss! (change tone) but you know inside i was trembling right. Goddd, hes so gorgeus,…(quiets down) and that eyes…. it tells you everything..
J: okay, now continue the story (nods her head with questioning eyes), what is up with that guy…?
A: jennyyyy, (feeling excited) he’s There! (crunching her fist with spirit) i said to myself, oh my god.
i entered the room and he’s there. this whole bar was swaying with couples, dancing cheek to cheek so close as if their bodies had become one. i can see him through the smokey air, sitting calmly at the corner. i could escape his presence by the people standing in between but i just couldnt escape his eyes. its so penetrating. i tried and tried not to look, but i cant help it. and each time i looked, our eyes met! finally im tired of hiding. i took my seat, ordered up a campari, then without any more remorse, i looked at him.. i looked at him deep.
at first he didnt notice me, but then he began to notice, his face turn ed slightly brighter. theres a slight smile, as if saying are you on to me now?? i answered well, Can’t you feel the weight of my stare?
that went on for about 20 minutes. during it, once in a while our attention distracted by barmaids, friends, but we eventually came back at looking each other. then, suddenly, i dont what was happening to me..theres a sudden raise of adrenaline flowing on my back, he was preparing to go.
perhaps there was a cupid somewhere in the room shotting his arrow at me, perhaps it was a spritual trigger from god, or perhaps, it was that song from madonna that made me stand up, and walk to him slowly.
i dunno what happened to me, i just felt my sight started to move higher as my body moves up to standing position. i didnt even take a breath. i stepped forward, overlooking anything anyone standing between me and him… for me, there was only him in that room.
i cant remember how far i walk, gosh i cant even remember the size of the room. he seemed so close but still a world away…
my heart pumped harder and harder as we got closer and closer. part of my brain still scream: what are you doing Annie Edward Hamilton? are you craziiii? there was no answer inside. she knows im doing a big mistake, but yet there is this divine force that led me to this guy. my sight was finally locked on to his wide dark charming eyebrows. he still looked at me, but now only in few steps away.
i am trying incredibly hard to control my heart.
then our eyes met. no words. then.. i took his hand, gently, carefully as if im afraid of waking a sleeping lion. i step backward, pulling that warm, sturdy hand forward. then i turn back, stepping to the dancefloor where people are still romantically swaying their nights away. i can feel he moved up from his seat and followed me just like a little boy follows his mom. after i reach my desired position, i turn back at him, realizing what a crazy crazy thing i have done tonight. his body is now so close, standing still, awaiting my command.
i put his hand on my waist and take the other one to my other waist and i put mine on his shoulder. without any signal, we started to move along with the song. i pressed my body close to him, put my head on his chest. i can feel his heartbeat under his warm chest, calm and strong just like i imagined it to be. every breath i drowned deeper into him, hypnotized by him. time seemed to have stop..
now its officially intense.. we looked at each other like we never did before; not a look of disbelief or amazement of what happened, but a warm and accepting look of ‘let’s spend this beautiful night together’.
there was a connection there brought by the air and the music that replaces our need for speaking. you see im crazy for you, i said.. touch me once and youll know its true. you see, i never wanted anyone like this. its so brand new to me…you..are so brand new to me. kiss me, kiss me. youll feel it. youll feel it..
and you know what he did?…
he kissed me.. a soft gentle kiss on the lips that immediately send shivers all over my body. i was trembling. my knee weakens, my heart stopped. i wanted to fall to his arm. if not for his strong caress, then i would really did. his forming but gentle hand managed to hold me on conscious. i smiled..
(looks at jenny) jenny, are u still listening to me?
J: (her wandering mind interrupted) yes, yes, keep going (smiling half laughing) keep going..
A: (smiling widely) jenny, the next is you not gonna believe..
J: (suddenly serious) what?
A: (calmed down) he said quietly "its very nice to meet you, but i have to go, i mean i really have to go." i was lying my head down his chest when he said it, still enjoying our last silent moment as madonna started to fade out of the speaker, then i whispered "why?".
he pulled back slowly then he starred at me and said "in 2 hours time i have to fly to paris to meet my publisher and i havent packed at all. ill be back next week." feeling extremely unsatisfied i asked "are you living in paris?", he answered "no, i live here. but im working on a novel in paris and you look exactly just like one of the characters there." publisher? novel? character? i felt dizzy of surprises. He’s a writer, just like me! but before i can even introduce my job and my name, he said, still half staring at me and with incredible gentleness "hello, im Julian. and you are..?"
"Annie, Annie Hamilton…" i replied
"Well nice to meet you Annie" he smiled
then he took my hand up behind his neck, grasped them gently and pulled them slowly down his chest. i can feel there was something sweeped inside my hand, but i didnt dare to look. suddenly we’re holding hands facing each other like a little boy and girl, then he kissed me on the forehead. i closed my eyes, his smell was so good. when i opened my eyes up again, i can see his last look as he turned away to the exit door which was behind me. the look..it was beginning to fade away.. far far away until i could not finally look at it again. disappear amidst the crowd on the street. all i can see left was the empty door through which he went out. i regain full consciousness. notice what time is it, then find the closest barmaid to pay for the campari, then went off, back home, not even bother to finish the half-filled drink i left on my table. i felt excited, but also tired of all the intenseness of it all. i felt something in my hand, i opened them, and i see a card, a namecard, written with a big Garamond font on top of it: Julian Narrow, writer.. leaving that smell, look, and song haunt my mind for the rest of the night.. i can’t wait for next week..

inspired from and made under the influence of Crazy for You - Madonna

On why i love cooks and cookings..

Yesterday, i had a bbq picnic party with some of my old and new friends. the party was planned rather instantly and, as usually, had overlooked, on top of all important things, the wheather forecast of the day that, as a friend explained it, was going to be raining.. Despite the troubling possibility of rain pouring at anytime, we manage to get the fire started, grilled, and end the day happily. there were problems of course. the coal was particularly difficult to burn. a combination of lack of spirits (to fuel fire), strong winds, and the technical implausibility of the ‘bucket’ that holds the coal, prevents the coal from getting at all heated and ‘red’-ed at the time it usually takes. after a period of momentary confusion, the lightbulb finally lit on us as we tried to lit the coal on a completely separate container that a friend just found lying under the tree somewhere in the park (makes u question the bother of bringing the ‘coal bucket’ itself, no?). there was also problem of lacking coal, which smartly solved by using the unbearable charms of our ladies on a manly party of adequate coal owner who’s sitting at the other end of the field. in short, the picnic, however miniscule the prediction of success at times, was a success. the end of the day was particularly nice. as we sort down to the lower areas of the park, fountains, garden restaurants, water streams, flower, provided the outer set for a warm, close, sometimes gossipy, groupy chat that took place under a cadres of trees looking to the small pond with an incredibly close-looking like ducks with the wooden imitation ones in my mom’s souvenir shelf.

however charming, the focus of this blog is not the beautiful park, not the friends, not the coal (and how difficult it is to lit up), definitely not the ducks (although my mom perhaps would love to read about it), but especially the broiling and the grilling, or in general, the cooking process that have sparked my idea to this whole blog affair.

The Truly Thing that Nourishes - Richard Gere

as one memorable line from the admirable actor Richard Gere said (within his role in the film ‘Autumn in New York’, also starring Winona Ryder, on a question of ‘Why do you become a cook?’), food is ‘the truly thing that nourishes’. that sentence made me think, and I couldn’t agree more. blatantly to say, when compared with other basic needs (also with undoubtable extreme importance) like house, clothes, and human rights, the thing with food is just that: food gets into our system. Like air and water, it became a matter of unformidable importance as fuels do to a car, and more.. Our entire perception and contribution, action and reaction in this world depends directly on the performance of our system. and as our system eats food, what more can you say about food?

however, this is just an outer-layer aspect of food. foods contain much more possibility than that; thanks to cooking. a food may well be grass or leaves or self-growing fruits on your mom’s trees, but cooking elevates the food to a state where higher nutrition, and above all, human pleasure is involved. Instead of devoting itself just to ‘move the torques’ of your system, foods become something of a preparable work that demands precision and preparation and refinement, as that of human-satifaction product or commodities, or if i may, that of art.

food can be, and indeed have been, treated and taken to a state similar like avant garde pieces of work, but the point i am trying to make here is not that food should be processed to the highest possible of artistic form, but that food relates to a process in which this ideality was in mind but in reality often turned out even more rewarding than the ideality it aiming for. this process is cooking.

cooking is a noun class of words. it indicates process, it does not represents adjectives that used to define state of things such as delicious, appetizing, or par excellence, but a noun that conjures up in our mind activities, processes, and steps that need to be followed in order to reach the ‘good’ food. it is this ever-going process toward ideality that often times more rewarding than the final result - which itself of course is very important - of the food itself. as you will see later on below, cooking represents many immaterial (and therefore immeasurable) things; some are easily sensed, some others, like all the jewels and the precious stuff, are hidden and lurked deep behind those tired face, stingy smell, and dripping sweats of the cook..

Important Asset: A Wife that Cooks

if your wife cooks, then she is for keep. if she cooks good, then consider yourself a very lucky man. a good cook, especially one that loves you, could turn a simple sliced potato into an haute cuisine vichyssoise that you could hardly imagine coming out of your dull ol’ pots and pans. a good cook can brightened up your days and could transform even the most wrinkled, sour face into a grin of love and thank yous.

however that was just a part of the advantage of having a wife that cooks. beside this extreme effectivity (hi quality for low input), you may find - well at least the old-fashioned of you - a taste of that old feeling of being taken care of. knowing that somebody cooks for you, regardless the final taste or result, is sometimes a treat of priceless quality indeed. a warm feeling that nods to your long hard-pressed question of ‘does anybody really care for me?’ for me, perhaps this is why i respect chefs and cooks and moms who cook so much.

Cooking Creates Responsibility..To Eat

cooking involves activities, process, delicacy, dedication, preparation. all whom in its own demand a reward. but even more than that, cooking demand the absolute reward, that is its result to be enjoyed, no matter how bad or good the result is. this is particularly the case for those who cooks for him/herself. im not saying that you should eat the whole thing its bad, but im saying that there are more incentive to eat (and finish) food if you cook it your own. where does this incentive come from? well, first and foremost is the curiosity of the result of your own doings. second, the notion of the respect you can give yourself by way of eating what you cook.

An Intimate Pastime with Fellow Cooker

cooking is always a medium for gathering. women had done this since ages ago. the point is that cooking not simply relates to the ultimate result of the cooking (however this is important) but also to the process that in practicality connects one person to another in a sort of groupwork way. the curious connection commands time, effort, and sometimes money from a group of person to be assembled and organized together to form the result, thus forming the perfect setting for co-operation. more often than not however, the cooperation is more enticing than the result of the cooperation. in a world where everybody’s busy working their asses off, untop of each own career-ladder or personal goal, an opportunity to gather together, on a common mission, that, more than not, end up by laughing at each other’s way of chopping garlic or grilling chicken is a truly rewarding opportunity indeed; an opportunity i and my friends gladly, and perhaps gleefully, took yesterday.

Figuratively, An Expression of Love and Dedication

on top of it all, cooking that symbolizes the transcendence of the concept of food from a ‘fuel’ that nature reserved for us to a form that is related to delicacy and aestheticity, could be looked from a point of view as the ultimate figurative way of expressing love and dedication: none other than the two elements that i believe ‘makes the world go round’. a mother that cooks, a wife that cooks, a girlfriend that cooks, a friend that cooks; all signs that there is still love and dedication in this world. because of them, childrens, husbands, boyfriends, friends are blessed with the existence of those who cared for them; a true feeling of love embodied itself in every drop of sugar and spices that made their way into the pots and pans, which in turn will take its turn in nourishing and prospering the very bodies of those that the cook cares and loves - is there any, if not few, love could be more pure and sincere than this..?

Causality

Lastly cooking do to us in an instant what doing good deeds in this world do in probably years. it teaches us directly the ultimate lesson of hardwork and the universal causality: that what you cook and how you cook it (including your level of dedication) determines your final satisfaction. a person who respect well-cooked food must also respect the hardwork that lies behind it. a person who respect well-cooked food must also have realize that he must spend much hardwork and dedication if he wants to have his food right. a person who respect well-cooked food understand that hardwork, which, like all things in this world, determines absolutely what you get at the end of the day.

Stay This Way, a song where the Brand New Heavies’s first singer - N’dea Davenport delivers this stunning vocal performance, is another clear proof of the grooving power of 3 Englishman from the small town of Ealing, west of London. This trio with multitude black female vocalist and additional players carries forward their party genes - albeit tells very much of the deep influences their predecessors had on them - straight into the rhythm of the song, producing perhaps some the earliest display of commitment to the policy of soul & funk in the heavies’s carreer.

A dreamy and trippy track, largely fueled with the sustaining of keyboard and particular choice of synth tone, coupled with a swinging drums and bass, creates a tune of bizarre character: forceful yet layback, cool yet burning with a passion to move - an invitation to dance and chill at the same time; an invitation which doubtly many bands can solicit. It is exactly that balance of partying and lounging, of pumping and retaining, that kept the song a pleasure to listen to.

True, a special kind of groovey move is required for the song if one would look deeper into enjoying it. A kind of mix between the dancing flair of a party animal with herethere sprinkles of the charm and restrain of a socialite. A gesture that not pretends to require only the best of clothes and the most attractive of manners from the most beautiful of people. A condition, where, in fact, have oftenly been tried to reproduced by many distinguished clubs all over the world, including the now deceased Studio 54, wherein the style is no longer about social identification but about feeding a need and passion. in the ideal world, it would be the kind of place where a band like bnh comes from.

An ensemble of opening snare drum licks, solo guitar  and a high pitch, sustained note of a keyboard begins the intro to ‘Stay’. Not only this style of beginning remind one of many the works of precedent funk bands (e.g. among many whom style is closest is Average White Band) but also bring benefit by putting the song immediately in its center rhythm - the gesture which don’t make the listener guessing too long. A cool clean guitar solo during the intro provides the initial introduction to the song’s instrumental character:not merely siggesting how the song of this like does not thrive on the display of masterful skill of the playres, but also putting forward the attitude of the genre - that not the amazement to skills that the musicians seek, but the audiences’s willingness to join the party.
the first verse dives straight after the intro, initiated by the somewhat alto and gospel voice of Ndea, putting forward hopeful, optimistic, love-all-around chorus lyrics such as: "let the rain keep falling down cause baby im high, yeah i think will fly! now that were together, love is so high, stay this way forever."
The subtle chordal progression accompanies the journey of the song to the pre-chorus/verse 2 and chorus where the singing, which becoming undoubtably a delight to hear, peaks. Middle 8 follow, with a short, funk genre characteristic - from earth wind and fire to cameo - wah wah guitar solo. The bridge came after with an exciting interplay of vocal and tenor sax, starting to build up the song to its zenith. Another chorus follows, picking up to build the song’s end as the band join forces: Jan Kincaid starts to make drum loops in the background and multi layers of Ndea’s vocal, Simon’s guitar and sax solos intertwining together to bring full intensity to the song’ outro, until finally fade out enters. the song is brought down to earth, the audience is allowed to breath and take a rest.

The video speaks more about the spirit and attitude of the song more than i could ever do. Just a hint of notice, the three men around the lead singer - they Are the Brand New Heavies. for pleasure, observe the wide influences of 60s-70s soul era on clothes, accesories, and of course dance style.

Rare piece is a modest, if not underrated, way of mentioning stay this way. The appeal of the song, total opposite of course to the bnh fans, falls short to the wider audiences, understandably along with the stance of its particular genre in our last and current decade, prooved no less by its in-existence in recognizable positions in mainstream charts. However, as with any band born of love of a genre, bnh lives on, especially until now, with its world-calibre arsenals of groove tunes. Stay this way is one of their early tracks, as pure as scandalous early venture into the funk world; ripping off the sound of the predecessors and add to it their flavor of posterity. As a bnh fans, subjective it is indeed for me to decide, but if i were being asked: what proove do the 90s and 00s have to offer to say that soul & funk is still alive and well - while many argue it had died since the 80s?
then, the answer would be: listen to a track called ’stay this way’ by the bnh and keep your silence forever.