I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: HAYKO CEPKIN-“Kabul Olur” (“Accepted”) (2018).

Hayko Cepkin is a Turkish singer of Armenian descent.  He was born on March 11, 1978 in Istanbul.

It’s hard to find out anything about him that’s not in Turkish.  So I’m including what I find interesting

In June 2005, he released his first album “a collection of compositions he recorded at home and all lyrics, music and arrangements of his own.”

He left Istanbul in 2014 and moved to Selçuk, İzmir.  He bought 9 acres of land from Şirince, and created a place where the lovers of Varil / Barrel Camping will enjoy and relax. The artist continues his music studies here.

He even had a festival there some years ago.

This song is from his latest album which is a great example of Anatolian rock–a fusion of Turkish folk and rock music.  He has taken it to some heavier levels than other bands with heavy electronics.

“Kabul Olur” starts with some electronic sounds and a flute before Cepkin starts singing in his rather lovely, powerful voice.

A minute it the drums kick in and the song starts to rock.  And then comes the power chorus at 1:20 (the second time through is even more powerful).  The post-chorus–the repeated title–is like a decompression after the intensity of the chorus.

The pounding middle section is a great combination of his growls and a traditional flute.

The denoument is him repeating “tamam” which means okay.  Its an ntense ending to a song that totally rocks.   Here’s the translated and original lyrics and the video below.

“Accepted”

[READ: June 4, 2019] “Geneva, 1959”

The June 10th issue of the New Yorker features five essays by authors whom I have enjoyed.  They were gathered under the headline “Another Country.”

I do love a story which features lots of diacritics, and this one sure does.  Orhan talks about his brother Şevket and their mother Şekure and how they left Turkey because their father had gotten an good job with IBM in Switzerland.  The boys were seven and nine and their mother wanted them to learn French.  She had learned French in Istanbul and believed she could teach them at home.

But the boys were willful and she gave up, assuming the children would learn the language on the shore of Lake Geneva, in the parks, on the streets, or even at school.

But Orhan resisted the French language.  All of school was in French and Orhan seized up.  Mostly he hated being separated from his brother and he felt at sea.

His brother, on the other hand was too young to enter fourth grade–the grade he would have been in Istanbul–so he was placed in third grade.  As a result, school was a breeze for him.  He loved it.

Orhan began refusing to go to school although Şevket couldn’t wait to go back.

A few days later their father decreed that the two boys would return to Istanbul to live with their grandmother.  They would attend school there.

The last line brings a smile to my face.

For ease of searching, I include: Sevket, Sekure.