EROC  TINU

(For the Cecil Taylor Unit after a concert 
at the Public Theater, NYC, April 28, 1979)

Eroc Tinu
Eroc
Tinu 

Alto lightning in a violin sky 
singing against the green eyed drum dancer's
visionary heart song
 
Touch me here
touch me here
the spirit will not die

Blue fingers caress the ages
sub-sonic urgings
enter deeper than the law allows
to find me open
and unashamed
waiting for the mercy killing
which must surely come 
again
Eroc Tinu
Eroc
Tinu 

Alto lightning in a violin sky
recounting tales
told out of time
against the green eyed drum 
dancer's
visionary heart song 

Take me now take me now
the spirit will not die

Remember 
restless deep sea dancers
submerged beneath the will of God

Please
wake me
wake me
when you rise

Eroc Tinu 
Eroc
Tinu
Alto lightning in a violin sky
incantations drawn in blood
from the green eyed drum dancer's
visonary heart song

This space is time
this space
is time
this space
is time
the spirit will not die

solo forays
have no meaning
forget the alchemy of love
an empty stomach
is
a
truer
reality

Eroc Tinu
Eroc
Tinu 

Alto lighting in a violin sky 
please wake me
wake me
when you rise
to call me home with you
Joe McPhee, 1979
Photo © Ken Brunton
(Some photos will enlarge when clicked on.)

 

.

A Meeting in Chicago
            ~
The sound begins in the silence of the morning
before the morning
of the day before
in a vortex of dreams
expanding
racing
to meet the dawn
racing naked across a razor's edge
through the frozen fog of memory
 

The sound emerges like long shadowy fingers
snaking throughout the silence
collecting silence
in a cocoon of silence
in anticipation of the next
 

The sound surrenders to itself
and becomes
the place
where the meeting begins
unfolding layers
of mystery
revealing nothing
revealing all
speaking in lost languages
forgotten in a climate of
nostalgia
 

The sound continues
in anticipation of the
next
 
 

              ~ Joe McPhee, 9/96
Joe McPhee, Europa Jazz Festival, France, `93
Photo © Mephisto, www.mephistophoto.com

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 



Photo © Lars Jonnson, Norway
THE GRAND MARQUIS
~
He comes to life at evening,

at first light of a mid-night sun.

Wearing the blues like a custom fitted suit,

he cruises a boulevard of dreams,

ancient to the future,

in stoic reflection of the masters.

The dance begins,

moving to rhythms of a heart set free,

freezing time and bending space

in a most peculiar fashion.

A pas de deux,

too fast, too slow,

gathered in sound crystals released on wings of song;

punctuations in air;

rising currents of multi-phonic virtuality,

hotter than the law allows.

They call him the grinder,

The sweet spot finder.

Wearing the blues like a Mona Lisa smile,

He cruises the boulevard of dreams,

ancient to the future

In stoic reflection of the masters.

He is,

The Grand Marquis!
 

~ Joe McPhee

 
 
 
 
Party  Lights
~
We will make music
In the forests
In the cool green light
Of evening
In a ritual
Long forgotten
On a street called music row

Those of us
Who still remember
Before sampling was the fashion
Know our music
Comes from
People
Not just from tape machines

We know
That our songs
Are meant for singing
Dancing
Celebrating life

And when the studios
Are silent
Vacant
Relics of the past

WE
WILL
STILL
BE
HERE
 

~ Joe McPhee

 
 
 
 
... Joe McPhee:  Hearing is believing! ...


Joe McPhee, Amsterdam, `OO
Photo © Henk Kahle



JJMcPhee@juno.com