Dona Nobis Pacem

The wizard with the big ears

I stumbled across this forgotten record. The memories attached returned with listening to the album.

I did a search for the meaning of the term pedal point. In a totally different context. While doing research for the new sci-fi book I am writing. I don't think of myself as a sci-fi writer at all, but the new story plays a hundred years from now. Trying to go there throws me back in time. Down memory boulevard, exploring what the heck I actually know about where we are and have been. In order to speculate about what comes next the most likely source is what lead us here. What we have done to deserve this.

One of the main characters…virtually asleep At chapter 26 of the draft, roughly halfway in…I’ll keep you posted

In fact my sci-fi is not at all about the future. It is an imagined alternative now. An improvisation on a theme.

Pedal point

On a big pipe organ you have pedals. A keyboard for your feet. One of the ways to improvise is building the piece round a central note. It binds. And that's easy on an organ. Just hold your foot down on a low note of your choice and start from there. From that pedal point.

It is also the name of the band playing on that lost record. Lead by a man who is the closest of all the musicians I have met and had the honour of sharing the stage with, to the organ master himself, Bach.

Back then I wasn't ready to fully appreciate the encounter.

Thijs van Leer. His fame is worldwide. A multi instrumentalist and frontman of the legendary dutch band Focus. Progressive Rock set on fire by guitar icon Jan Akkerman. The four piece band had several big hits. In the seventies. The most famous one is Hocus Pocus, by Focus. It's a ridiculous song. Ridiculous virtuosity.

If you have never heard of the song Hocus Pocus, then check it out. Listen to the song and then come back here.

Imagine playing those drums right next to that yodelling mad wizzard. He does the crazy keyboard, the insane flute, and the mental singing. I had to keep up with that man. I am not sure I did.

These four (or was it five?) performances included all of the Focus hits. Late eighties by then, and for me, a twenty-something arrogant, those songs had been popular before my time. They seemed ancient to me at the time.

I think, by then it was also old to the wizard, Thijs van Leer. His 'focus' had shifted. And don't get me wrong, this was one of the performers from another league. He had the biggest ears of all. What an awesome musician. During the gigs, we also played a good chunk of a lesser known project of his.

Donna Nobis Pacem

It shares the name with a few other musical works. Based on a latin prayer. Yes, a catholic mass. But this time composed by that mad sorcerer on the flute. The gentle harmonic genius on the Hammond, backed by a vocoder and several singing musicians.

These tracks took some rehearsing. They were not three chord pop songs. But performing the Kyrie Eleison (and especially the reprise) on a festival stage in front of ten-thousand people silenced by the sheer beauty of it, should have been unforgettable.

But I did forget.

And listening to the album helped me remember.

I do admit the style sounds dated to me now. It is also one of those almost forgotten jewels.

Which ties back to my futuristic novel in the making. The 'what will remain' search attached to the process is pulling me in deep. These last years I have shifted from the idea of things remaining basically as there are with gradual change sort of gently being delivered through the back entrance, to a grave suspicion it will not be like that at all. We live at the end of an era. And it means saying goodbye. It means looking back and deciding what to bring with, before it is too late. Before it slides out of reach and becomes a distant memory. Fading quicker than you think possible. I have shed more tears these last weeks than in a long time.

Part of these feelings may come from me aging into those years of nostalgia. But dwelling in the past doesn't build a liveable future. Consciously choosing what to take with and what you no longer need does at least help savour what is. Shedding tears lightens the burden. Making room to not keep repeating the old song but compose a new melody from the old notes. The past is a pedal point for what lies ahead.

I feel I have entered a new phase with my writing. Several new projects venture into unknown territory. They challenge my beliefs. But I also know now, what I didn't get way back then. I am not alone.

We all have lost trust, but participating in creation can only be done from that most difficult of all moves.

What is your pedal point?

I know what I need to do

But I don't dare to

Afraid it won't be enough

Creativity has no door

That can be opened

Or shut

The passage is naturally open

Until we place these tiny bricks

Thinking them not big enough

To make a difference

Creativity has no pressure

It doesn't build up

When blocked

By a million stones

It just finds another way

Into this world

I don't have to name

Each brick

To place them

Don't have to identify

Each block

To remove them

One by one.

One stroke at a time

One note after the other

Move leading to move

Word to word

Click upon click

Blow, upon blow, upon blow

Chipping away

The channel widens

Softening the path

Of liquid energy

Clear enough to drink

Feeding what lies downstream

Donna nobis pacem

Last week I have been interviewed by Kimberly Warner for her Unfixed series of writer portraits. Kim is one of the amazing connections made here on Substack. What a heartwarming woman. The conversation was in total flow.

It wil be out this Thursday, and I invite you to check it out….