http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=od8A9AiRGJQ&feature=related

That is beautiful. Thanks.

Very nice, really like that sort of thing but don't know jack about it. What he say? The audience seemed rather thoughtful.

Why, Mr. Pig... I'm surprised at you.

It is Turkish blues: "My woman done left me... and I don't know what to do..."

This guy is a maestro of his ancient instrument. He was one of the hipsters of the 1960s who returned to the roots of Turkish folk music to set modern themes to old instruments and arrangements.

The songs are always about lost loves OR a hard life... misery, misfortune, toil...

You can find the themes more easily in the poetry of the great Turkish poet and Communist, Nazim Hikmet.

The lyrics are, roughly:

DAWN WIND, SEND REPROACH TO MY DARLING
DO NOT SAY THAT I HAVE ASKED OF HER
I HAVE FALLEN UNDER HER SPELL BUT WHAT CAN I DO?
DO NOT TELL HER THAT I AM WITHOUT HOPE.

DON'T TELL HER, DON'T TELL HER, DO NOT EVER TELL HER...
THAT I HAVE BEEN LEFT ON MY OWN.

TELL HER THAT I HAVE LIED
TELL HER THAT I DID NOT LOVE FROM THE HEART
TELL HER THAT I AMUSED MYSELF WITH HER
DON'T TELL HER THAT I HAVE DIED OF LONGING FOR HER
DON'T TELL HER THAT I HAVE FADED AWAY WITH GRIEF.

DON'T TELL HER, DON'T TELL HER, DO NOT EVER TELL HER...

SHE HAS ALREADY FORGOTTEN ME
THIS LOVE OF MINE HAS BEEN IN VAIN... A DREAM, A HOPE.
SINCE SHE BROKE UP WITH ME, SHE HAS FOUND ANOTHER LOVE
DO NOT TELL HER THAT I AM IN DESPAIR, HOPELESS, SAD.
THAT I HAVE BEEN LEFT ON MY OWN, THAT I HAVE FADED AWAY, AND BEEN CONSUMED WITH GRIEF.

DON'T TELL HER, DON'T TELL HER, DO NOT EVER TELL HER...

Jesus. Them is the blues...

Excuse me while I kill myself.

I'd shoot him myself if he asked, it really would be best.

The "netroots" will be more depressed than this before the year is out...

...and they won't have any music.
...or poetry.
...or culture.
...or dancing.
...or tradition.
...or community.
...or traditional musical instruments.
...or history.

...not even a somber audience.

Well, that was quick.

It's like the general population of a 19th century asylum.

"Woe is us! What shall we do? What shall we do now, we are betrayed!"

I got no pity, no understanding, no historical perspective, I'm sick of it. A bunch of self-absorbed dunderheads who refuse to get their heads out of their asses.

Well, that was quick.

It's like the general population of a 19th century asylum.

"Woe is us! What shall we do? What shall we do now, we are betrayed!"

I got no pity, no understanding, no historical perspective, I'm sick of it. A bunch of self-absorbed dunderheads who refuse to get their heads out of their asses.

They don't yet realize that their heads are in their asses. Consciousness is a tricky thing...evidently...