Airflight music

Music is the pathway to the heart
François-Marie Arouet de Voltaire

As I went on, the accents got heavier and heavier, the sounds grew increasingly intense as the consonants sharpened. I quickly realized that if I wanted to stay serious - and I did - my expressive means would not be up to the pomp of the staging... I had just finished Song to the Clouds of Labadas on the music stand to my right and Caravan of Elephants on the left, when I started vigorously flapping my wings and turned to the center. The heavy series of vowels and trailing rhythm of the elephants had just provided a last gradation. But how was I to end? I suddenly realized that my voice, for want of any other alternative, was taking on the ancestral cadence of a sacerdotal lamentation, the wailing style of the hymns that fill Catholic churches in East and West:
zimzim urullala zimzim urullala zimzim zanzibar zimzalla zam
elifantolim brussala bulomen brussala bulomen tromtata
velo da bang band affalo purzamai affalo purzamai lengado tor
gadjama bimbalo glandridi glassala zingtata pimpalo ögrögöööö
viola laxato viola zimbrabim viola uli paluji malooo
Hugo Ball in Cabaret Voltaire

Everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
Everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
When it comes, it falls in pieces.
Eating holes and gems unbound.
Birds and hearts and flags and everything.
Said, everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
Said, everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
Money matters. Does mercy matter?
Suddenly, as things are clearer,
See the sights are getting nearer.
Said, everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
Said, everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
Money matters. Does mercy matter?
Suddenly, as things are clearer,
See the sights are getting nearer.
Said, everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
Said, everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
Money matters. Does mercy matter?
Suddenly, as things are clearer,
See the sights are getting nearer.
Everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
I said, everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
When it comes, it falls in pieces.
Eating holes and gems unbound.
Birds and hearts and flags and bugs.
Said, everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
Said, everything. Devoured.
I learn to hold my, will power.
Spies in the Wire by Cabaret Voltaire (1984)