Them, them

Those sounds of plastic and nylon, like digital pages flipped in 4/4,
Those syncopated rhythms, like armyboots hitting the ground in 4/4, left, right, left, right,
Those strange arrangements, like cactii in a lilac-coloured desert.
A combination of the senses, the heart and the soul.
A rediscovery of the lute, the art and the hyperbole.

(On the avant-garde jam at Prax's, baglama & nylon-string classical guitar)