Ooooo cim boom booom – New Dawn

The music people like and listen to changes over time. Many things determine the type of music he likes, like his age, the beauty he loves, the book he reads, the place he sees, the life he lives in, the environment he enters.

The path of most of our generation has definitely gone through the arabesque with the first eye pain in their youth. We used to wander through the valleys of arabesques, always a little smoky, sultry for long nights, hopeful from the coming and going of letters, sad from scowls, calm upon calm. It was clear that we would come into this valley, but which road would we take was the main question. We’d say give comfort to our beloved, we’d add philosophy to hope, we’d say would your memory suffice even if you leave one day, we’d decorate your tears with longing and say, “Want what?” We were Orhanists, Ferdici or Muslims? Arabesque hello corresponds to the first love of our peers.

– Please let me state that I went back to my youth when I mentioned arabesque and first love and with this trend the writing moved away from its original purpose in terms of style and content and I recognized this and did it quickly and sharply back on topic.-

The journey that began with the arabesque continued with folk songs and then ended with art music. I say I don’t know many folk songs and songs, but it turned out that I was familiar enough to accompany the lyrics of almost every song and song played on the radio, as I later realized. I write exclusively for Sezen Aksu, Barış Manço and Cem Karaca, they have a special place.

As we approached our thirties, we became interested in Western classical music. CDs, books, Mozarts, Bethoovens, dreams of hearing the Wiener Symphoniker live, Sa’di Babas, Meriç Mothers… Classical, important, my dear. If you give credit to what you find there and admit to yourself that you can’t find it, turn around and look here if you find hope in what you’re looking for. Merâgîs, Hafız Postlar, Itriler, Dede Efendiler, Bekir Sıtkılar… “Many people cannot understand our ancient music/ And those who do not understand them will not understand anything about us.” The more one becomes acquainted with our ancient music, it seems to understand what the late Yahya Kemal meant.

Then you look out of the corner of your eye at the tastes of your loved ones, your children, your young friends. For example, you meet Sagopa after your forties. It’s interesting, isn’t it?

I don’t know if everyone is like that, but when someone asks me what kind of music you like, my answer is very clear: I listen to quality music. quality, not type. The quality of the arabesque is beautiful, we do not listen to the poor quality of the folk song, the cruelty of the song, the poor performance of the classic is not good at all, we even try to get used to the quality rap music. What is the standard of quality you will say. The lyrics, the composition, the performance of the instruments, the tone of the performer and the ingenuity of the arranger are all included in the quality. If they are all good, a masterpiece is created, if they are all bad, today’s pop music. When I saw that I couldn’t find any songs to listen to on the radio, I began to realize that I was getting old. If Radio Nostalgia or Radio Turquoise don’t make it, I flee to TrtNağme, otherwise Voyage.

Halet-i spirit is important. Especially some evenings when I get home late from work, I take shelter on the radio to get rid of the chaos in my head for a moment. My styles don’t cut it in times like these. Either I have to listen to Sportradio or Angara Air. Have you bent the ear of the radio and matched Seğmen, or have you found a quality folk song?

At such times, I like to listen to the Ankara songs provided it is no more than two folk songs in a row, because my mind relaxes, I forget about the subjects, how should I put it, such relief comes. Why? Because there is a music, a melody, a word, an interpreter; It keeps you busy, but there really isn’t anything. If you can’t empty the fullness of your head somewhere, try to get rid of the fullness by emptying something empty in your head, is that understandable? Although I sometimes come across works like “When I spit on my happiness, the wind comes back to me”, which depresses my ontological anxiety and deepens my existential fears, but whatever.

Sometimes even the air from Angara is not enough, I escape to sports radio as a last hope. It’s clear I’m calling, I need a heated discussion or the fervent scream of a fan on the phone. When I meet either of them, I forget my worries, at least until I get out of the car. The man is overjoyed and complains to the moderator: brother, they ruined the team, it was clear from day one that this would not happen with this teacher, if I had made eleven, we would have achieved better results, or? Too bad for us the president doesn’t know that either make him stop bro my hands are shaking look I swear I hope they shouldn’t do this this team is our brother.

When I hear about the man’s problem, I forget my own. When I look at how he’s worried about this issue, I remember my real problem and I can’t really take care of him, I’m ashamed of this fan, I’m ashamed of myself, I’m ashamed of myself , the road has ended, I’m home, I get out of the car so sad, behind a lock in me: Laylaylalaylaylaylaaay oooo cim bom boooom.

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