Category Archives: JDC

JDC: Driftwood

As the cold water breaks in front of me, I remember the first time, you and I stood here. Back then, everything was still okay; everything was new, was exciting. We were fine; whatever this „we“ was. Not love, not friendship, not pure business partners, something in between and none of the above at all.

Back when we started out, we immediately realized, how different we were. It was necessity that required our cooperation, but from there something grew and flourished. And it led to success, made our working together smoother. I learned to respect your difference as you did mine – at least I think you did. We even discovered some similarities, another pebble in the great mosaic, that made “us” better in the long run.

In the night after the completion of our first business venture, we celebrated. Right here, in this very spot, we sat and talked, drank wine, smoked a couple of joints and listened to the stereo in my car, which I had driven halfway up the shore. At some point, you’d gotten up, said you’d be right back. I can’t remember, what I had been thinking about while I waited, when the music suddenly changed.

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JDC: Creep (Teil 3)

Teil 2

GinaGrrl sagt:
“Ich hab ihn sogar selbst gesungen, selbst ist die Frau, stimmt’s?”

Ihr Kommentar hatte mich zum Nachdenken gebracht. Selbst gesungen? Das klang selbstbewusst, aber nicht eingebildet. Machte sie das etwa öfter? Oder war es vielleicht nur ein Wunsch von ihr?

Es dauerte eine Weile, aber ich habe mich tatsächlich daran gemacht und das Netz durchsucht: DSDS, Supertalent, Voice, Popstars… doch ohne Erfolg. Keine der Teilnehmerinnen sah ihrem Bild auch nur entfernt ähnlich.

Wieder dachte ich nach. Was, wenn es gar nicht um das Singen ging, sondern um den Supermodel-Song? Wieder suchte ich, brauchte dieses Mal noch länger. GNTM hatte Stunden an verfügbaren Videos. Sie alle anzuschauen dauerte seine Zeit; am Ende überflog ich sie nur noch im Schnelldurchlauf.

Doch sie entdeckte ich nirgends; wohl gab es da eine Gina, aber die sah ihr Gott sei Dank nicht im geringsten ähnlich.

Wo also war es, das GinaGrrl? Ich wollte diesen Kontakt nicht abreissen lassen. Letztendlich blieb mir nur eines: ich würde sie selbst fragen müssen.

Blu3yedPenfr3ak sagt:
“Ich bin sicher, dein Publikum war hin und weg. Auf welcher Bühne kann man dich denn demnächst bewundern?”

JDC: Creep (Teil 1)

Eigentlich bin ich nicht so der Fan von Johnny Borrell. Aber ich hatte die Chance und war auf das Konzert gegangen. Als dann das kleine Signal in der Ecke des Bildschirms auftauchte und mir per Newsfeed mitteilte, dass in einem meiner Lieblingsblogs ein Bericht dazu aufgetaucht war, konnte ich nicht anders, als ihn sofort zu lesen. Ich mochte den Blog und mir gefiel der Schreibstil des Bloggers, also versprach ich mir einiges vom Bericht.

Ich wurde nicht enttäuscht: knackig und unterhaltsam geschrieben gab er ziemlich treffend das Feeling wieder, das ich selbst in der Menge verspürt hatte. Über seinen Absatz der besonders enthusiastischen Fans musste ich lachen, und auch über den Wortwitz, den er an den Tag legte, als er sie “von der Borelliose gepackt” nannte – aber solche Fans gibt es wahrscheinlich bei jeder Band.

Gerade wollte ich einen Kommentar schreiben und dem Autoren zu seinem sehr gelungenen Konzertbericht ein Kompliment aussprechen, da blinkte der Zähler unter dem Artikel auf. Noch jemand hatte kommentiert, genau in der Sekunde. Nur Momente später flackerte ein weiteres Icon auf, und der Artikel hatte ein erstes Like.

Ich setzte zunächst mein eigenes Like und klickte dann neugierig den anderen Kommentar an.
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JDC: Encore

– Part 1: Theme –

Jerry Rickman might have never been the sharpest tool in the shed, mind ya, but boy, he could play the saxophone just like the great ones. I’d always suspected that he’d had the stuff, the musical talent to really make it and go places, and that some day people would talk about him and name him in one sentence with Charlie Parker, Stan Getz or John Coltrane. But in all the years we toured the stages together, Ricks never showed any ambition for more. He seemed perfectly content and happy just playing along with the rest of us two-bit amateurs, who all shared the same heartbroken, drunken love for the musical style known as Jazz. And in a way, that dedication to the sound alone made him seem only more professional to me.

I hadn’t told any of the guys just why we’d been booked to this particular gig. When the request came for me and the band to play at that wedding reception, I accepted without hesitation. In fact, business had been a little slow for a while, so we took just about anything offered to us. And the job really wasn’t too hard, either. Most of the time we just eased our way through a few instrumentals on that late afternoon in May, knowing that we’d have to do a couple more lively numbers later on. After all, this was a weddin’, an’ people would wanna dance – and now we would make them swing.

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JDC: Frontiers

I never meant to leave you. If nothing else, you must believe at least this. I did not want to leave anything behind, but ultimately I had no choice. None of us do, when it’s time to pay the final bill. And the Grim Reaper isn’t someone to wait for his dues – he just takes.

I often think back to the earlier times, when I was still a kid and we used to go see my grandpa. I’ve always thought of him as the last real cowboy. And I don’t mean the type you see in the movies, like in the early ones from John Ford, I mean a REAL cowboy. He’d know what to do and how to compose himself in any circumstance. It was the kind of wisdom one gathered over the years while living on the open ranges. It was as though the rugged terrain had ingrained itself into his very being, making him not handsome, but an honest, hardened and hearty person. Just the kind my grandma could fall in love with. At least that’s how she told it to me.

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JDC: Rewind.

Nobody told me there’d be days like these… It probably is one of those fundamental things, one of those decisions where you can go only either the one way or the other. As for you, your mind was made up about it, even before we met: it was definitely the Beatles.

Rewind. Play.

I never really got the hang of the Fab Four. Sure, I learned to listen to them; I learned mostly, what you liked about them, and why the tiny hairs on your arms and cheeks and in your neck started to stand up whenever you heard a certain chord or line of melody. I could see, what they gave you… and where they failed me. I’d tap my foot to them, maybe hum a chorus with you, light up when you were delighted – but their sounds never filled me on the inside the way they nourished you.

Rewind. Play.

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