there are 3 tracks on my banco de gaia fantasy
compilation that form a sort of holy trinity. they make up the
beginning, middle and end. just like in pulp fiction the banco
story begins part way through with last train to lhasa then
goes to the beginning (well, near the beginning) with heliopolis
and concludes with the blissed out obsidian.
the opening bars of last train start something
like a mixture between a marx brothers and a wim wenders soundtrack,
we're then taken into the heart of tibet, and as the track starts its
slow ascent, picture a bygone locomotive making its painstaking
journey into the hills of a gentle nation, heavily laden with
passengers both inside and outside its 2 carriages. before long the
track builds to a full head of steam and we're approaching the
as we pull into the station we hear the opening stains
of celestine drift across the platform. echoing times of a by
gone decade dick parry's sax skips and swoops as the track kicks in
and once again, before long, we're back to the wafting chords of the
beginning and the track plays out. time for a lie down, as qurna (ali's
birthday mix) comes on the walkman. a personal fave as it was the
first commercial banco release i heard - pure bliss (strange not to
hear it alongside furry meadows though!)
time to build the pace once more and straight into b2
(sit there thinking why it's called b2 for about 2 minutes and then
get up and dance around the room.) stay stood up for the intro to heliopolis
(original version) and then dance around the room with the feelings of
total confidence and memories of manchester megadogs that only a tune
like heliopolis can bring to the surface. its layers fall onto
my ear drums like nature covers the ground with each passing season.
each time the same, only each time different.
it fades and its time to follow the red brick road to china.
one of those banco tracks that just makes you think, even without the
spoken word parable. suitably chilled the next track takes the whole
experience to the deepest level yet. heartbeats slow, palms dry out,
clear the head for half an hour with kincajou (duck asteroid).
time to bring the pace back up one final time and
reminisce with harvey and the old ones, about that long lost
night at glastonbury 95, when the nights proceedings came to a
blissful head with data inadequate. was the tent really as
small as i remembered it ? memories of walking around at the end.
grinning faces reflected back with grinning faces. finally, get your
breath back, as obsidian begins to meander through the air.
feel the beat of the bass and the drive of the drums and the heart is
filled with joy; its wonder-vibe carrying on well into the night and
well into the soul long after the track fades. "free how the
night goes on ...... i wanna wanna wanna .......free how the night
goes on............. i wanna wanna wanna .... free .."