The idea to Peeni Waali was born out of a series of chain-reactions, coincidences, and fast moves discovering Jamaica.
Embryo of the project were isolated compositions for a short movie (Paper Mensch) and TV-work I’ve done in Saudiarabia in 1981; Listening back to songs like “Kulu Hatha Mamnua” (meaning ‘all that’s fun is forbidden’: an arab saying I picked up when I was in Jeddah), I decided to “re-shape” some of these tunes (i.e. “Skarab” and 25 years later again on “Der mit dem Derwisch tanzt” on CD “SHA”).
I went to Jamaica in ’87. When I arrived in Jamaica, I was fortunate enough to meet a ‘tourist guide’, who prevented me from much hassle, hussle and bussle – Bruce Harris – a raggamuffin tourist ‘guide’. Bruce was witty and righteous and no ‘rent a dread’ at all. Exploring rural and remote aeras of Jamaica, I fell in love at first sight with those “Peeni Waalis”.
Eventually I was introduced to the late producer W. “Jack Ruby” Lindo (e.g. Steel Pulse). We went for a rehearsal of three guys up in the hills and experienced a triggering encounter for what was to become an extraordinary journey into differences within cultures. It was my first encounter with real roots reggae. A day later I went back and talked with that “Revealers”_trio. We decided to work together if possible and I enrolled 4 month of an intense ‘reggae-crash-course’ in Jamaica before going back to Switzerland to record more riddim tracks.
… eventually I met Rico Rodriguez (R.I.P.) and arranged the logistics for him to come to Switzerland to front a local band and record some music, while I returned to Jamaica in early ’88.
Meeting my three friends from the hills again, I learnt, that they had signed with a major label, making our initial plan redundant. Returning to Kingston, Rico introduced me to percussion player Leon “Scully” Simms. With Robbie Shakespeare we built up a riddim track at Gussy’s studio down Slipe Road 56. By coincidence, Dean “Big D” Frazer was just finishing a session there and hung around a bit. He joined the party and blew us all away with his trademark sax playing: a song was born from out of everybody, free like an impro, original like everywhere, while nothing was premeditated, hence the title “A no nottn’”…
Rico also introduced me to Leroy “Horsemouth” Wallace who kicked in some wonderful drums on numerous tracks. ‘Haassie’ (Wallace) introduced me to this great gentleman Earl ‘Chinna’ Smith and Dr. Pablo, and – with Rico’s horn brother Felix “Deadly” Headly – plenty soulful music blended with Peeni Waali on more than one occasion.
Time and again I was to record with Rico up until his untimely passing away in 2015 (on september 4th, my birthday!)…
Back in Switzerland, I moved from Neuchâtel to Jenins (in eastern Switzerland). One day, Jerome Van Jones would come over for Rico’s birthday and play my old C-3 Hammond making everybody feel real close to genuine jazz; a vivid déjà-vu for me since I used to run a little record shop inside a jazz club back in Neuchâtel (the ‘Jazzland’) with the late drummer Denis Progin.
Knowing, Rico had played on Linton K. Johnson’s albums – I’ve contacted Linton. He answered that doors might be arranged to open… At the same time, Swiss TV approached me for a “Legalize It”-show where they wanted to include some Swiss-Jamaican-music-connection. Question was of Rico with a little local band from Neuchâtel but Rico went back to Jamaica two days before the show (being tired of shoe-lacing said local band), so we arranged for L.K.J. and his own band to fit in this open door… Eventually, after a soulful meeting with Linton and Dennis Bovell, “Beacon of Hope” fell off the cradle…
Priviledged to feature an abundance of craftsmanship, it was a big treat to relate to all these guinuine people. The challenge of making an album by colouring, flavouring and assembling all sorts of elements in one concept was an incredible task, yet unconventional and gratifiying; demanding love for detail, humbleness and courtesy.
Naturally, when you come to Jamaica and mention you’re into music, Jamaica ‘falls on you’, e.g. you’ll be quickly introduced to musicians. Hence, Jack Ruby introduced me to Jackie Mittoo and many other dynosaur. I learnt extraordinary insider stories and learnt how to invent some…
A man named Prof. M. Tourtchaninoff – call him Nof-Nof – once founded an institution called The Alpha-School-of-Music. Tourtchaninoff coming from some obscure background in the realm of psychotic drama, aimed at doing more good. So far he teached Haile Selassie to play harmonica. But Nof-Nof’s ambition was higher: he also wanted to use his knowledge aquired at the university of Hergé.
The Professor put all his skills in the foundation of a home for ‘difficult children’. But the difficult children all proved to be very musical. So the home became the iconoclastic Alpha School of Music, renowned cradle of many an extraordinary musician from JamDown.
In the corridors of the Alpha School in Kingston a rough tone lingered. Today you can detect that element in many a player’s sound, e.g. the ruder the tenor, the sweeter the tone and the cooler the shade!
Nof-Nof was utterly concerned to keep control over those rude boys, stuff them with good manners, but the schoolars always made fun of him and would flout back
“Can’t stop Rudie… “.
Many decades later – sometime in 1987 – some young people playing in a band ventured to Jamaica and got stuck by smoking too much pumpkin-seeds. The pumpkin-seed-smokers wished Tourtchaninoff-nof to front the band with his diabolic harmonica. But Nof-Nof had long since vanished with the safe of the Alpha School of Music. He resurfaced mysteriously in Lecce – Southern Italy – as an undercover pizzaiolo… while the Pumpking Stompers went to Zibnoukpouana with Rico and recorded “Can’t stop Rudie” in an iglu at minus 20° below zero.
The song was so hot, it melted the iglu and most parts of Zibnoukpouana. Only a fisherman has seen and survived the event. He was so impressed that he forgot his name and fled to China from where he sends trivial e-mails.
However, in the meantime I planned a second serve with all the great music that was partly shaped but did not make it on the first venture, so time was ripe for a second ’round…
