Album: In The Hand Of The NightAvg rating:
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si ruvget ja boltot ja boltot
ohcet min diamántta spáilliha
Stuorra ruovde stálut leat ollen deike
Čiekkát diamántta spáillit
Čiehkkát diamántta spállit
Čiehkkát čiehkkát ulddáid ellui
(translation from https://lyricstranslate.com)
Big roaring beasts
skeletons of steel
have found their way
to our land
They are roaring and roaring
digging and digging
looking for out reindeer of diamond
Big giant beasts
with greedy mouths
are here10
Run
to your sacred place
reindeer of diamond
Run
don't let them find you
First time that I've heard this.
Very nice indeed.
Same here! I agree!
No man this is the real deal. This isn't a Canadian pretending to be an Irishwoman for instance, but rather a Sami born and bred who sings Sami music. Yeah the beats are a tiny bit over-done on this song, and while some of the stuff behind it is older than America (by a lot), her attitude isn't geriatric.
You can praise one musician without bashing another...
mjbaumann wrote:
Love that Eskimo Music!!!
Chongo1959 wrote:
Inuit!
* facepalm *
It's neither, and not even vaguely related. She's Sami, from northern Scandinavia. Sami span Norway, Sweden, Finland and the bordering regions of Russia. One of the oldest surviving cultures in Europe.
Inuit!
Sami. Reindeer shepards in the north of Scandinavia.
Love that Eskimo Music!!!
Inuit!
Very nice indeed.
Love that Eskimo Music!!!
This is Sami music from northern Norway. If you want to check out some Inuit music try some Susan Aglukark or Elisapie or even the Jerry Cans. BTW most Inuk prefer you not use the term Eskimo. That said, I love this music too!
Written in early August 2010:
While my bullfrog-finding bike ride day earlier this week was FANTASTIC, it wasn't actually my best, best day. Here is the best day I've had riding my bike along the bayou and through George Bush Park off Highway 6. This was one. amazing. bike. ride.
While my mp3 has plenty of music loaded, when I stumble across a new song I like on (usually thanks to RadioParadise.com), I tend to obsess about it for a while until I'm ready to take it off its pedestal, quit hitting the repeat button, and let it play in my mix. This week's song of obsession is a Norwegian native drum number called "Vuoi Vuoi Me" by a lady named Mari Boine. There are basically three parts or stanzas to the song. The third stanza kicks in with all the drums. And that's where the magic really happened.
My ride began with playlist and bike rolling along in the pure Houston heat that I love. Typical great ride, hair loose in the wind, bare feet, and not a soul out there with me. Tons of bunnies and soaring birds and clouds. So many Monarch butterflies that I lost count. Dragonfly pairs all stuck together copulating as they buzzed by me in the air. The humidity was extra rich because it's been raining on and off all week, making the heat extra hot. Felt interesting and good as it baked my skin. A sauna. Theraputic. I started to sweat, so I twisted my tshirt up to better concentrate on the feel of the sweat as it started to trickle down my neck and back. Eventually all my skin and hair was slick, and the salty trickles that slipped onto my lips added delicious flavor to my grapes. I rode through open prairie for long stretches-miles in a row-with no hands—arms outstretched wide, back straight, absolutely loving and owning the day.
The Vuoi Vuoi song came on, and I cranked my headphones even louder. As it played, the weather changed. The sky darkened and the wind kicked up. At this point the trail cut not through open prairie but through woods, which were, indeed, lovely, dark, and deep under the approaching storm clouds. Most of the trees were still under water from previous raining, and the water was eerie and still, reflecting the trees, like Monet if he were channeling Poe. As Mari's voice rolled into the third stanza, though, the sky reacted in p-e-r-f-e-c-t syncopation with all the drums. Trees rustled and leaves fell and swirled around me. Literally swirled around me. I felt like a barefoot Wiccan gypsy. A nature goddess. And then the rain came. Not hard enough to be dangerous. But hard enough to mix with the sweat and soak me in soft warmth. And the music played on and I continued to ride with and against the wind. In places, the shower let up to sprinkling, and I could already see the sun baking the water back out of the pavement, making everything misty from the ground up. But then the rain would come again. I made my mind clear itself so I could concentrate on everything coming into my ears and eyes and onto and out of my skin. I felt muscles pumping my bike and rain pounding my body. I watched the rain bounce off the pavement and tall pale grass strain under the weight of the falling water. I drank the rain, and I listened to myself breath to the beat of the music. I let my mind roll over memories of my trip to New Mexico and anticipation of my trip to France. Time slowed. My senses overloaded, my heart welled, and, finally, I just started laughing. What-an-unreal-moment-this-is laughter. How-grand-is-this-f'ing-day laughter. All-of-this-was-saved-just-for-me-thank-you-Universe laughter. I shouted out loud to the sky my thanks.
Eventually, the rain let up completely and the whole trail ahead went misty with baking evaporation. I rode for miles more in the sun, not wanting the day's ride to end. Not ready to let go.
=) Sarah
That's some beautiful writing, right there.
Open up your mind people!! theres a whole lotta world out here!!!
FlatCat wrote:
I wish I had a nickel for every time someone on RP gave this advice. I love, have performed and danced to classical, rock, folk, Latin, and world music from many, many different countries. This song leaves me cold as many times as I have listened to it, but I hardly think my problem is a "closed mind".
Really do agree with FlatCat. There's a disconcerting Cranberries feel to this that kind of gets in the way for me, lol.
And just because it's got "a whole lotta world" in it doesn't make it automatically good.
While my bullfrog-finding bike ride day earlier this week was FANTASTIC, it wasn't actually my best, best day. Here is the best day I've had riding my bike along the bayou and through George Bush Park off Highway 6. This was one. amazing. bike. ride.
While my mp3 has plenty of music loaded, when I stumble across a new song I like on (usually thanks to RadioParadise.com), I tend to obsess about it for a while until I'm ready to take it off its pedestal, quit hitting the repeat button, and let it play in my mix. This week's song of obsession is a Norwegian native drum number called "Vuoi Vuoi Me" by a lady named Mari Boine. There are basically three parts or stanzas to the song. The third stanza kicks in with all the drums. And that's where the magic really happened.
My ride began with playlist and bike rolling along in the pure Houston heat that I love. Typical great ride, hair loose in the wind, bare feet, and not a soul out there with me. Tons of bunnies and soaring birds and clouds. So many Monarch butterflies that I lost count. Dragonfly pairs all stuck together copulating as they buzzed by me in the air. The humidity was extra rich because it's been raining on and off all week, making the heat extra hot. Felt interesting and good as it baked my skin. A sauna. Theraputic. I started to sweat, so I twisted my tshirt up to better concentrate on the feel of the sweat as it started to trickle down my neck and back. Eventually all my skin and hair was slick, and the salty trickles that slipped onto my lips added delicious flavor to my grapes. I rode through open prairie for long stretches-miles in a row-with no hands—arms outstretched wide, back straight, absolutely loving and owning the day.
The Vuoi Vuoi song came on, and I cranked my headphones even louder. As it played, the weather changed. The sky darkened and the wind kicked up. At this point the trail cut not through open prairie but through woods, which were, indeed, lovely, dark, and deep under the approaching storm clouds. Most of the trees were still under water from previous raining, and the water was eerie and still, reflecting the trees, like Monet if he were channeling Poe. As Mari's voice rolled into the third stanza, though, the sky reacted in p-e-r-f-e-c-t syncopation with all the drums. Trees rustled and leaves fell and swirled around me. Literally swirled around me. I felt like a barefoot Wiccan gypsy. A nature goddess. And then the rain came. Not hard enough to be dangerous. But hard enough to mix with the sweat and soak me in soft warmth. And the music played on and I continued to ride with and against the wind. In places, the shower let up to sprinkling, and I could already see the sun baking the water back out of the pavement, making everything misty from the ground up. But then the rain would come again. I made my mind clear itself so I could concentrate on everything coming into my ears and eyes and onto and out of my skin. I felt muscles pumping my bike and rain pounding my body. I watched the rain bounce off the pavement and tall pale grass strain under the weight of the falling water. I drank the rain, and I listened to myself breath to the beat of the music. I let my mind roll over memories of my trip to New Mexico and anticipation of my trip to France. Time slowed. My senses overloaded, my heart welled, and, finally, I just started laughing. What-an-unreal-moment-this-is laughter. How-grand-is-this-f'ing-day laughter. All-of-this-was-saved-just-for-me-thank-you-Universe laughter. I shouted out loud to the sky my thanks.
Eventually, the rain let up completely and the whole trail ahead went misty with baking evaporation. I rode for miles more in the sun, not wanting the day's ride to end. Not ready to let go.
=) Sarah
I think I understand
I wish I had a nickel for every time someone on RP gave this advice. I love, have performed and danced to classical, rock, folk, Latin, and world music from many, many different countries. This song leaves me cold as many times as I have listened to it, but I hardly think my problem is a "closed mind".
No man this is the real deal. This isn't a Canadian pretending to be an Irishwoman for instance, but rather a Sami born and bred who sings Sami music. Yeah the beats are a tiny bit over-done on this song, and while some of the stuff behind it is older than America (by a lot), her attitude isn't geriatric.
While my bullfrog-finding bike ride day earlier this week was FANTASTIC, it wasn't actually my best, best day. Here is the best day I've had riding my bike along the bayou and through George Bush Park off Highway 6. This was one. amazing. bike. ride.
While my mp3 has plenty of music loaded, when I stumble across a new song I like on (usually thanks to RadioParadise.com), I tend to obsess about it for a while until I'm ready to take it off its pedestal, quit hitting the repeat button, and let it play in my mix. This week's song of obsession is a Norwegian native drum number called "Vuoi Vuoi Me" by a lady named Mari Boine. There are basically three parts or stanzas to the song. The third stanza kicks in with all the drums. And that's where the magic really happened.
My ride began with playlist and bike rolling along in the pure Houston heat that I love. Typical great ride, hair loose in the wind, bare feet, and not a soul out there with me. Tons of bunnies and soaring birds and clouds. So many Monarch butterflies that I lost count. Dragonfly pairs all stuck together copulating as they buzzed by me in the air. The humidity was extra rich because it's been raining on and off all week, making the heat extra hot. Felt interesting and good as it baked my skin. A sauna. Theraputic. I started to sweat, so I twisted my tshirt up to better concentrate on the feel of the sweat as it started to trickle down my neck and back. Eventually all my skin and hair was slick, and the salty trickles that slipped onto my lips added delicious flavor to my grapes. I rode through open prairie for long stretches-miles in a row-with no hands—arms outstretched wide, back straight, absolutely loving and owning the day.
The Vuoi Vuoi song came on, and I cranked my headphones even louder. As it played, the weather changed. The sky darkened and the wind kicked up. At this point the trail cut not through open prairie but through woods, which were, indeed, lovely, dark, and deep under the approaching storm clouds. Most of the trees were still under water from previous raining, and the water was eerie and still, reflecting the trees, like Monet if he were channeling Poe. As Mari's voice rolled into the third stanza, though, the sky reacted in p-e-r-f-e-c-t syncopation with all the drums. Trees rustled and leaves fell and swirled around me. Literally swirled around me. I felt like a barefoot Wiccan gypsy. A nature goddess. And then the rain came. Not hard enough to be dangerous. But hard enough to mix with the sweat and soak me in soft warmth. And the music played on and I continued to ride with and against the wind. In places, the shower let up to sprinkling, and I could already see the sun baking the water back out of the pavement, making everything misty from the ground up. But then the rain would come again. I made my mind clear itself so I could concentrate on everything coming into my ears and eyes and onto and out of my skin. I felt muscles pumping my bike and rain pounding my body. I watched the rain bounce off the pavement and tall pale grass strain under the weight of the falling water. I drank the rain, and I listened to myself breath to the beat of the music. I let my mind roll over memories of my trip to New Mexico and anticipation of my trip to France. Time slowed. My senses overloaded, my heart welled, and, finally, I just started laughing. What-an-unreal-moment-this-is laughter. How-grand-is-this-f'ing-day laughter. All-of-this-was-saved-just-for-me-thank-you-Universe laughter. I shouted out loud to the sky my thanks.
Eventually, the rain let up completely and the whole trail ahead went misty with baking evaporation. I rode for miles more in the sun, not wanting the day's ride to end. Not ready to let go.
=) Sarah
Excellent BBC article about Mari Boine and the why and what behind her music.
Definitely not Gaelic - I'm a student of the lingo and would recognise it immediately if it were. And be jumping up and down in my seat :)
Beautiful song, though, whatever she's singing about.
I've read on these boards that she sings in Sami - is that right?
not for me!could be a good thing, depends on what it's distracting one from
Love it. Play more.
This is what they look like,its that funny clothed one !
Merry X-mas !
Good, thanx RP.
Yep. It's about 5 minutes too long.
Open up your mind people!! theres a whole lotta world out here!!!
Yep. It's about 5 minutes too long.
10
Me, too.
today..7 to 8,,might just go back next time, if to soon,
Great comment, thanks!
Every track I've heard is more than warranted here. Thanks BillG for introducing me to this artist.
not impressed
Love it. Play more.
I thought I heard a familiar word or two. Norwegian? No, Sami. But a Norwegian Sami. Ja, she might have used a word or two.
Nice find and tusen takk for playing.
Yes, thanks yet again, Bill and Rebecca, for this lovely Sami music and for all the international music. The next best thing to being there.
I'm going with cool too
One can never have too much Mari Boine.
Written in early August 2010:
While my bullfrog-finding bike ride day earlier this week was FANTASTIC, it wasn't actually my best, best day. Here is the best day I've had riding my bike along the bayou and through George Bush Park off Highway 6. This was one. amazing. bike. ride.
While my mp3 has plenty of music loaded, when I stumble across a new song I like on (usually thanks to RadioParadise.com), I tend to obsess about it for a while until I'm ready to take it off its pedestal, quit hitting the repeat button, and let it play in my mix. This week's song of obsession is a Norwegian native drum number called "Vuoi Vuoi Me" by a lady named Mari Boine. There are basically three parts or stanzas to the song. The third stanza kicks in with all the drums. And that's where the magic really happened.
My ride began with playlist and bike rolling along in the pure Houston heat that I love. Typical great ride, hair loose in the wind, bare feet, and not a soul out there with me. Tons of bunnies and soaring birds and clouds. So many Monarch butterflies that I lost count. Dragonfly pairs all stuck together copulating as they buzzed by me in the air. The humidity was extra rich because it's been raining on and off all week, making the heat extra hot. Felt interesting and good as it baked my skin. A sauna. Theraputic. I started to sweat, so I twisted my tshirt up to better concentrate on the feel of the sweat as it started to trickle down my neck and back. Eventually all my skin and hair was slick, and the salty trickles that slipped onto my lips added delicious flavor to my grapes. I rode through open prairie for long stretches-miles in a row-with no hands—arms outstretched wide, back straight, absolutely loving and owning the day.
The Vuoi Vuoi song came on, and I cranked my headphones even louder. As it played, the weather changed. The sky darkened and the wind kicked up. At this point the trail cut not through open prairie but through woods, which were, indeed, lovely, dark, and deep under the approaching storm clouds. Most of the trees were still under water from previous raining, and the water was eerie and still, reflecting the trees, like Monet if he were channeling Poe. As Mari's voice rolled into the third stanza, though, the sky reacted in p-e-r-f-e-c-t syncopation with all the drums. Trees rustled and leaves fell and swirled around me. Literally swirled around me. I felt like a barefoot Wiccan gypsy. A nature goddess. And then the rain came. Not hard enough to be dangerous. But hard enough to mix with the sweat and soak me in soft warmth. And the music played on and I continued to ride with and against the wind. In places, the shower let up to sprinkling, and I could already see the sun baking the water back out of the pavement, making everything misty from the ground up. But then the rain would come again. I made my mind clear itself so I could concentrate on everything coming into my ears and eyes and onto and out of my skin. I felt muscles pumping my bike and rain pounding my body. I watched the rain bounce off the pavement and tall pale grass strain under the weight of the falling water. I drank the rain, and I listened to myself breath to the beat of the music. I let my mind roll over memories of my trip to New Mexico and anticipation of my trip to France. Time slowed. My senses overloaded, my heart welled, and, finally, I just started laughing. What-an-unreal-moment-this-is laughter. How-grand-is-this-f'ing-day laughter. All-of-this-was-saved-just-for-me-thank-you-Universe laughter. I shouted out loud to the sky my thanks.
Eventually, the rain let up completely and the whole trail ahead went misty with baking evaporation. I rode for miles more in the sun, not wanting the day's ride to end. Not ready to let go.
=) Sarah
Thank you so much for sharing this, @sarahurban !
I hope your life has been since and still is good to you.❤️