This is something I didn't have anything to do with, but it uses some Hosey music so I thought I'd pass it on. This is a really cool video of Nicole Marquez, a dancer currently in Mississippi who I met while she was in NYC. She has a very interesting story, which I won't rehash here as it is in the video.
I think the video is beautiful. I love all the music she and the director/crew used. I especially like that she used "Cribs" by Hosey, since we wrote that song. There's also music by an up-and-comer whose star is rising fast: Nina Simone! I'm sure she will go far...
It's been a while since I've posted some of the "blueprints" for Hosey music. It's something I've been meaning to do, and I know people seem to enjoy picking at the nuts and bolts of the tracks. I'll try to do one of these posts for each Hosey track. Soon, I hope to put together a "vault" where I can upload master tracks from the songs so that everybody can have a crack at the fun.
"[Don't mind him,]" Trilby tilts his head towards Kevin, "[he has a speech impediment. He's shy about it.]" The idling car full of Hitler Youth share a chuckle about this. The driver sweeps his arm in the air, signaling Kevin and Trilby to get in the backseat. The three teenagers had just passed through the town of Colditz when they spotted the two of them walking along the roadside. Kevin and Trilby are ID'd as German soldiers by their field grey infantry coats; the boys stopped to offer them a lift to wherever they're going.
Kevin is half-drunk and falling through the sea. The ferocious currents of the Gulf Stream propel him like a heavy artillery shell headed for reinforced concrete. The currents are layered, each one flowing in its own direction, and as Kevin sinks through them he feels like a baby being rocked to sleep during a bombing run. Looking up, he sees the moon wavering at the water's surface, briefly obscured by the violence of the surf. The stars won't keep still long enough for him to spot any constellations, but he's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to figure out where he was anyway. Tiring of this scene, he lifts an arm to push against the water to flip himself over and finds himself spiraling through the sea currents like a perfectly launched football. He slows to a stop facing the ocean floor and spies an airplane flying parallel with him about three hundred feet below. The propellers slice through the water unperturbed, stirring up thousand of small bubbles that engulf Kevin, tickling their way into every loose seam of his fatigues. He considers for a moment that this is what it feels like to be vanilla ice cream dropped in a fresh glass of Barqs' root beer. He's in danger of drifting to sleep dreaming about cold root beer floats, made with Barqs'. Always and only Barqs'. But, there are more important things to deal with right now, like why is there a U.S. aircraft swimming hundreds of feet under the sea? Kevin knows it's not just Allied, but specifically a U.S. plane. Not only that, he knows what model it is. He's pretty sure he has flown aboard one like it before. Oh shit! he thinks, then aloud, "I'm on the plane!" The words squeeze through his larynx and burst out of his mouth as bubbles almost three feet in diameter that descend forward beneath him for a brief moment before exploding into titanic ripples, obscuring all sensation.
The V-2 rocket was Nazi Germany's last ditch effort in the ballistic arms race of WWII and touted as Hitler's secret miracle weapon. The "V" is for vergeltungswaffe, or "vengeance weapon". It was also known as the A-4, for aggregat-4, referring to it's incredibly delicate and intricately timed 4 stage launching and propulsion process. The V-2 was the first man made object to reach sub-orbital heights, thus it was man's first forays into the space age. In fact, most rockets constructed since then have been derived from the V-2 model. Particularly the rockets used for spaceflight.
There is a track of railroad that heads east out of New Orleans, travels through the sweaty hairline of the South, turning north to follow along the East Coast until it finally terminates in New York City. While the official name of the line that travels it has changed as regularly as ownership has passed from hand to hand, the farmers and locals of the regions it passes through have always called it The Crescent Run. From The Big Easy to The Big Apple is a thirty-three hour ride departing at seven A.M. and arriving the next day at five P.M.. The train crosses into North Carolina at Midnite, which is of little consequence to this story, but it's the kind of occurrence a person awake at that hour might notice.
Kevin Holgram, born near Hattiesburg, Mississippi on August 6th, 1920, was a late-blooming, up and coming Piano player in the New Orleans Jazz scene of the late 1930s. His first instrument, a glockenspiel bestowed upon him at age 8, was purchased by his Father, a local farmer, from a small pawn shop located between his hometown and New Orleans; years ago it had been pawned by a member of the US Marching Band immediately following The Great War.
In a lot of ways, this song could be considered the first Hosey song. It's roots were planted a little more than 10 years ago when Hughes and I were still in high school.
