Berakhirnya Epilog Cinta dari Leederville

After 34 years.

34 long years. May be a bit too long, I must admit, but life has a cruel way of manifesting itself. Move on; experience new life, meet new people. Leave all the pasts behind.

Yeah, the more un-romantic way of looking at things. Not me; I don't look at things in that manner.

Truth be told - I did not have the opportunity to return. Life conspired against me returning when I could still recognize things. Ideally, time should have stood still (for me). Everything would be still be intact. The landmark; the streets, the school and the house that we rented.

It would really be a walk down memory lane. I probably would still see and meet the younger me.

[sniff, sniff - pass me the tissue please] LOL

But 34 years old is a bit too long not to see someone. From a slim 18 year old boy, I now have white hairs, on the good side of me. On another side, I have none. I am over half a decade mark now. I have a big gut now, of course. She would not recognize me at all in this state.

But I am not alone in growing old. She did too.

And I can hardly recognize her. She in her own way has expanded a lot  - on all sides of her. From a slim her, she has overgrown her much. I am not sure I like her in this state. I certainly could not recognize her anymore.

Of course there are traits and names I still recognize. Mitchell Freeway, West Leederville, Oxford Street, Bourke Street.

And of course Cambridge Street.

Combo pix of me in front of Cambridge Court in1981 with my roommate and in 2015 with Arif and Akmal

Specifically 50 Cambridge Street.

This is the apartment I nearly burnt down, while cooking my rice on the stove. It is still intact. It is every way that I can remember. Exactly the way I would remember them.

Walking down Cambridge St, crossing the Mitchell Freeway and walking along Oxford Street to Leederville Teh. I'll alwyas remember that.

On weekend, we would visit our seniors at the University of Western Australia in the suburbs of Nedland/Crawley. Of course posing at the Swan River would be a must, especially with the yacht in the background.

That's me and friends in 1981 at 18, and the boys in 2015 in their early twenties.

At last, the romance of Perth (in my mind) is gone. It is still a nice and beautiful city; that I have to acknowledge.

But the romance is no longer there. Sort of. I am free at last.

Thank goodness!

My lil Perth - Epilog Cinta dari Leederville II

Perth is a city that brings a sentimental longing in me. 

It is a city that opens up a wistful affection for my past, a period that I can consider as happy days, and a year full of hopes and dreams, and a lot to look forward to in my life.

Perth from Kings Park. It is a beautiful city by the Swan River. Taken from www.experienceperth.com

Don't get me wrong. Happiness is not absolute. Nothing is.  For the year that I was there, I can only remember the good life, never mind that I did have my fair share of  ups and downs, when I was there. Like, this is the place where I failed my (car) driving tests.

Tests, mind you, as in the plural sense. Did I mention four times?

LOL.

Our mind often plays a wonderful game with us. It blocks the bad memories, the sad episodes in our lives; those are quickly forgotten, or at least, if I can still remember it, I can now laugh at it.

All I remember was on that cold February morning, walking down the streets at Wembley - having just landed in Perth the night before.  It was more like the wee hours of that morning when we landed. It was still summer, but I was shivering. The air was cool - it didn't feel summer at all; but it was fresh;  and crispy. It has a peculiar atmosphere that remain etched in my mind. I left Australia more than 30 years ago, and yet I can still feel the crispiness in the air. That crisp air that morning after we landed in Perth probably has a lot to do with the gum trees - eucalyptus, if you must.

It was Australia to me. 

I am longing to have that feeling again. Fresh from completing our SPM, and thrown to the wonderful small city that is Perth, from the backwater of Kota Bharu. You can't beat that feeling. I own the world then; the world's my oyster. the sky's the limit.

It was a I-am-here-to-conquer-the-world feeling. It was a euphoric feeling.

I am sure I can't replicate that feeling internally in me. 30 years have passed; I have been battered by life - sort of, I can't pretend to have that innocent feeling again. Not unlike the song Lost That Loving Feeling, by the Righteous Brothers.

I never had the opportunity to return before this. My career took me to new places all over the world. But never my lil Perth (and in a sense, my Melbourne). I am sure they have grown. So much water would have flown by the Swan River (and the Yarra too) over the years. I am sure I may not recognize them as I would 34 years ago. Leederville Technical College is no longer Leederville Technical College. It is something else now. But I hope the building is still intact.

But my apartment on Cambridge St is still intact. Nothing has changed that much. Or at least that what I can see from Street View. I remember the walk that took us past the flyover over Mitchell Freeway.

Us at Nedlands, beside the Swan River in 1981. The picture tint is red with the advent of time, but the memory is intact.

Or the wonderful suburb of Nedlands/Crawley, where the equally majestic and beautiful buildings of the University of Western of Australia are located.

I can't wait to head back. As I told a friend, I remember Perth with all my innocence intact. I was there for a purpose. Study and get my degree. Well, in the end, I got my degree not in Perth, but Melbourne.

But Perth is the place I got started in life, so to speak.

For that I look up to Perth fondly.

Very fondly.

EPILOGUE

Here is Epilog Cinta dari Leederville Part I.

I told this story to a friend. He vehemently agreed with me. He felt the same way about Carbondale and the crisp air when he first arrived there. Another friend who was in Perth a couple of years agreed too; she said so in her comment below.

So it could be Perth, but may be it isn't. Yes, I do love Melbourne too, where I spent 4 years of my undergraduate years, but I did not feel the same about Melbourne, the same way I had described below.

May be it was because this was my first ever trip overseas, when I was not even 18.

Anything else beyond Perth - London, Tokyo, Houston, New York, Colorado, even Melbourne seems like a downgrade.

May be it is like first love. You can't beat that feeling you had with your first love. Everybody else beyond first love would be a downgrade. 

And this time around, no gal is involved!

Epilog Cinta dari Leederville – Part I

PROLOGUE

This entry was written and posted on Sept 12, 2007 at the now defunct Yahoo 360 blog, and I thought it is about time to re-live my time at Leederville just for the record.

Epilog Cinta dari Leederville – Part I

If Sohaimi Mior Hassan has Bromley, then my Bromley is Leederville. Leederville may not be as famous as Bromley (courtesy of the massive hit by SMH of course), but it sure brings many pleasant memories to many of us. I am sure Cikgu Nik Faridah would agree too as I think she had spent time in Leederville too; may be nearly a decade earlier.

While I spent 4 years in Clayton - the Melbourne suburb where Monash is located and sure I remember it fondly too, especially when my memory of Leederville is fast fading, but Leederville will always remain special in my heart for the simple reason that it was my first introduction to Australia and the West.

17 Feb 1981 - Leaving for Perth from Subang. From left - ChePah, WAmizah, Nazela,
Fadhil, Piee, Zai, Ime,Man Ahmad & this writer.
Dunno what Judane in short is doing in the middle of the pic.

I still remember the wee hour of the morning when a bunch of us landed at Perth airport. We saw a notice on the wall that says meat is not allowed, so one person from MRSM Seremban quickly took out his serunding and started eating them there and then; fearful that it will be confiscated and hence wasted. I don’t recall his name anymore, sorry brother.

Upon clearing immigration and custom, Zai and I were grouped as housemates at an apartment in Wembley. May be we decided there and then to be housemates, I don’t remember anymore. It was a natural choice for us.

It was a reasonably cold morning, untypical in February; we were shivering trying to figure out how to switch on the water heater – it was a gas heater, so one would need to ignite the pilot burner first. We didn’t know how.

But the smell of the cool Perth air will remain etched in my mind. It was a smell like never before. It was also so fresh, so crisp. The first night I was in a strange land – from a third world country I suddenly found myself in a first world where everything is so well organized, modern, clean and civilised.

Leederville Technical College was the school chosen for us to undergo our matriculation in order to prepare ourselves for university life. It is located in Leederville, obviously, a suburb of Perth. It is quite near city center, after all Perth is just a small city. May be a 10-15 min bus ride and we would be there.

Welcome to LTC. The writer in front of the school compound, and the boys and gals of Leederville - the class of '81. Except for KB76ers, I would have difficulty remembering all the names. After all, I only spent a year with them as I left Leederville and Perth for Clayton and Melbourne to begin my uni life at Monash. Most stayed on in Perth I guess. I dont see the KB76 ladies in this pic. I think they didnt attend this Raya function with our BM teacher.

What do I remember about Leederville Tech College? For one, one of the subjects taught was Bahasa Melayu; so in some way we Malaysian had an unfair advantage, the principal reminded us, jokingly. Well, not really, we would probably have preferred more mathematical subjects to be honest. Anytime, all the time.

I remember one Malay student from Christmas Island. He didn’t speak too much Malay. Many of his terminology were that of old Malays. He still called awek, mambang, as in PRamlee’s movie. We were then calling them makwe. Awek was not in our vocab then.

There was this old lady, who loved to chat with us Malaysian students. Everytime we passed by her house, she would be there 'waiting' for us. She would call us “love”. How are you today, love? Bye bye love. Every other sentence from her would have the word love. Initially I felt quite strange to be addressed in that manner, but quickly got into the culture. But only with the Aussies. I would not dare trying it with the Malaysian gals; for sure I would get a 'jelingan' tajam (and not jelingan manja), if not a telling off. Hahaha...

Friendly people, those Aussies.

(And we think we are the friendliest people on the face of the earth? Try and walk around your neighbourhood and count how many greeting from neighbour or strangers you would get.)

There was a Malay guy from Negeri Sembilan who had been in Australia for over 20 year living nearby. He married an aborigine lady. If you saw him, you would not know he was Malay. He and his kids look like the Australian aborigines. And no, he has no desire to return to NS anymore.

I remember Cambridge Court apartment block where many of us used to live. Zai and I on the 4^th floor, and I guess that there were at least 2 other boy’s apartments and two gal's units there. We could just walk to school; probably it took us about 10 mins or so.

Zai and I infront of the Cambridge Court apartment where I nearly missed
burning down this whole building!

I remember life at Cambridge Court well. Zai and I experimented a lot on cooking. Coming from boarding school, we didn't have too much chance to learn basic culinary skills. Cooking curry for one was a disaster. For some reasons we could not get it right, and we were wondering what was wrong with the gravy. Didn't look and taste like normal curry. Until someone told us that we could use milk in lieu of coconut milk. "Coconut milk?" Zai and I looked at each other. "Oh yeah we know that," I told him, " but no kick!" It was basically a white lie. We didn't even realize we need coconut milk to be honest! No wonder it looks too watery. How we could have missed that important ingredient is anybody's guess. The next dinner at last our curry would taste and looked like curry.

But that was nothing like what I were to experience next.

One day I decided to come back for lunch at my apartment. Upon arrival at the elevator lobby, I can smell something burning. But I didnt think twice to take the elevator. Upon reaching level 4, the corridor was already full of smoke. So whose apartment was on fire? I thought. Not batting an eye lid, I opened up my apartment, and what greeted me was beyond comprehension. 

It was pitch black with (black) smoke. I could barely see my own hands.

What's going on? Then it dawned upon me then that I had forgotten to switch off my stove when I decided to cook the rice in the morning. I had cooked rice for 4 straight hours on max heat! Luckily I knew the apartment well (it was small enough). I rushed to the kitchen in total blindness, opened the sliding door to the fullest, and switched on the exhaust fan. I had to get rid of the smoke quickly.

The periuk and the nasik were totally charred, beyond recognition. I am sure forensic science would not have been able to identify the carbonized remains!

It took quite sometime for the air to clear. By then I was in tears – the smoke was so thick that it hurt my eyes. Fortunately only after the air had cleared, the landlady arrived at my apartment and asked me about the lingering smoke.

A file picture of me cooking in my Cambridge Court
kitchen. It is a small one bedroom apartment,
and the kitchen is small, but adequate

I told her I was cooking. She bought it with some reservation, I guess, seeing only thin (left-over) smokes, she can't do much and left. Boy, that was close! For sure I would have been kicked out if she found out.

Never again would I cook rice in the morning for my lunch. From then onwards, it was just fish and chips for me! (I am sure Zai, Pie, and Ime would remember the shop that sold chips lembek depan LTC.) Yummy...Fish n chips are my fav and in KL, the KLCC food court offer the best fish and chips in Malaysia.

PS No wonder lah kat US banyak yang kawin cepat.

Epilog

So where is the cinta in this Epilog Cinta dari Leederville? I heard you ask.

Don’t tell me you missed them, my friends. Tuh yang citer "awek and mambang", yang the (old) ladies calling you "love" tu haper?

What do you expect? YOu think I am Sohaimi Mior Hassan? 

BTW, thanks for reading. (At least I got you reading.)

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Wednesday September 12, 2007 - 07:46am (SGT) Edit | Delete | Permanent Link | 0 Comments

The Olympian that never was

Now that I am finally getting into the spirit of the Olympic, I thought I should try to write an entry on one. But I am not sure if there was any link, to be honest, between Olympic and the blogger.

I was never a sportperson; never was and never will be (even in the veteran section). That I would gladly admit. None of my kids are either. You can call us anything - kaki bangku, tangan meja, pengkang, whatever.

I was not good with any of physical attributes. I cannot 'run', I can't kick a ball, let alone curve it,  my wrist are up to the mark in a badminton game. 

Only the fact that at one time I was bigger than my peers that I was selected to play rugby for my school, and we won the Perak state title that year. But that was so many years ago that soon it would be considered a 'heritage' landmark by UNESCO!

Honestly, I think it is a waste of money to send Malaysian athletes to Games. Not many would be medal contender. MOst would be water carrier, if I may say that. Only perhaps Lee Chong Wei, and Azizul could contend for a medal in their respective fields.

Yang lelain, including the pregnant lady shooter - Suryati - perabih beras saja!

But in the spirit of (London) Olympic 2012, and talking about our shooters and archery, I was reminded of my own foray in archery in 1981. I was doing my matric and a senior had invited us to join an archery class over the weekends.

"It is a favourite sport of the prophet," we were reminded. That was all the encouragement I needed.

And being new to the country (Australia, or Western Australia/Perth to be more precise), I was keen to sample every little thing that is considered a different lifestyle that we were so used to in Malaysia and in Kota Bharu.

So I jumped into archery. Learned the proper techniques from the instructor - it was a formal course. Managed to hit a couple of bulls-eye, and we went 'hunting' too - 'rabbits', 'kangaroos', and deers especially, were some of my victims. Unfortunately, I did not bring my camera during hunting period, so I can't show you any picture. You have to just take my words for me, ok.

If not, consider it as one that gets away! ;)

The (archery) olympian that never was.
Don't you think I have the flair? Hehehe.
Picture taken in 1981

Looking at the picture above, in hindsight I could have been an Olympian, may be for the 1984 Los Angeles Olympic. We could have won our first medal way back then, had I decided to pursue it with more vengeance, or not be an engineer.

Would you agree with me? ;)

Empat kali ambik test, tak pass pass

Alhamdulillah, in academics, I had never tasted failure (read: having to repeat) both at the Uni or high school. Life has been smooth for me, so I am thankful to Him. 

Yes, the dean of mechanical engineering did warn me at one time in his office at Monash when I failed his subject in 1982. Yes, he even threatened to kick me out if I ever fail again. I am pleased to report of a happy ending in this particular case.

Barely though.

A friend of mine told me more than a decade ago of how his brother had to take SPM three times, before he passed the third one. No he did not score straight A's then eventhough he should have since he would have memorized the entire SPM books.

He is now a successful businessman (and a multi-millionaire).

I told this friend of mine that even though I am not a millionaire (let alone a multi-millionaire), I do not wish to follow his brother's foot steps. There are reasons why he is successful today - he dared to failed and that he would not let that be an obstacle for him to move on and try again. I'd believe I would do the reverse had I failed at my (SPM) attempt.

I would probably walk away and give up.

But he did not.

Akmal passed at his first attempt in getting a driver's license today. So did Arif 3 years earlier. So I complained to the both of them that I thought the driving test in Malaysia is too easy. Any Tom, Dick and Harry can pass, earn their right to drive and then would go all out to make Malaysia No 1 country in accident.

They concur.

May be we should increase the driving age to 21 and not 17.

So now we have four drivers in our household. That's the max for now, I guess; and for sure we are not going to have four cars in our garage. For one, we can't fit all four cars in that small garage of ours. 

Secondly I am sure my pocket is not deep enough to have four carst!

Talking about failure, and license, the only blotched in my resume would be just that. I failed four (4) times in my driving tests all in 1981. I was not younger than Akmal and Arif now, but for some reasons I could not passed my tests. The test officer would always find fault with my driving. At one time, he even did an emergency brake on me.

That was an automatic failure.

So in the end, I simply gave up and not bothered to continue. About the only consolation I got from this sad episode was driving through the nice Perth suburbs and it was a totally enjoyable experience.

Throughout my university days, I did not have a driving license, so I would walk, take the bus or train everywhere.

Only when I returned in 1986, I got my license at first attempt in Malaysia.

So a failure in Australia - four times at that, and yet, I had no problem in getting on within 3 months of returning. How do we reconcile that?

Is there a wonder about our high accident rates?

Raya doloe-doelo (The Eighties)

Raya in 1983 - the boys

Raya in the 80s are typically celebrated alone in my lecture hall at Monash.

Don't get me wrong; we would hold Solat Raya most likely at the Sport Centre as the praying room at the Religious centre would be too small to hold all of us at one go, even if we were to borrow the next door room from the Buddhist Society.

Yes, each major religion is accorded their own room with the Chapel at the centre of it, obviously. You are talking about Australia here and not Malaysia, so Islam and other religion had to play second or third fiddle. And after the solat, we would disperse to attend lab/lectures at our respective departments.

No kuih raya, or lemang on the 1st of Syawal. In fact, no one of my friends would even know of the existence of Raya in my department - well, sort of. It is business as usual for me.

But this entry is not about raya at Monash. I am too lazy to scan the old pictures from my album, so I would write an entry with ready-made scanned pictures.

Honestly, I am the last person who should be writing about this as I was not around, but being someone who like to write, I am sure bapak would have written me letters about raya celebration at home.

Alamak, budak-budak assalamualaikum dah datang!
Bukit Kerajaan 1983 - the road leading to our house, and the kids enjoying
themselves. I am reasonably sure they are only posing for this picture ;-)

In the 80s, Kuala Kangsar was our home, and by this time, we lived in the government quarters at Bukit Kerajaan, next to the Kuala Kangsar OCPD's house and the Malay College principal's house. We were in esteemed companies.

There was this one year (1981) that we Perakians celebrated Raya a day earlier than the rest of the country. The then Sultan Perak, Sultan Idris Shah decided to declare Hari Raya a day earlier (Aug 2) than the rest of the country; I believe after the Keeper of the Royal Seal had declared Aug 3, 1981 to be the Raya day for Malaysia.

It was a bewildering time for us. And living in the royal town itself would cause a great dilemma on whether to follow the Sultan, or the rest of the country. To make matter worse for us, Bukit Kerajaan is just a stone's throw away from the palace (which is located in Bukit Chandan).

That year, he (the Sultan) decided to follow the falak calculation, and because "ketupat dan rendang dah masak, alamat basilah kalau esok tak raya." Apparently people had been expecting the next day (Aug 2) to be Raya day - so they decided to start cooking Raya dishes, only to be told by the Keeper otherwise. It seems that the other excuse would be that he (the Sultan) refused to let his subjects fasting on the 1st of Syawal!

But bapak would not have any of these; the rationalization seems illogical to him, so the family - perhaps the only family in this royal town to be fasting, in solidarity with the rest in the nation. Yes, we were visited by many guests, and they were all treated as if it was Raya day, but were politely informed that the family is still fasting.

The boys enjoying themselves during Raya 83

I am not sure where Bapak and the kids had their solat raya - perhaps he performed the takbir and solat at home.

Apparently we were even visited by our cousin's family from Bagan Serai on the very first day. Wak, Mak Ngah, AbgNet and the rest of the family visited Bukit Kerajaan, and I guess they would have been surprised by the non-celebration at the Hariris. However, obviously, they were served raya dishes ( I guess whatever that was available, though I am not sure if it include ketupat, lemang and rendang or not.) Obviously they perhaps would be too embarrassed to eat in front of fasting persons, but bapak would not have anything with it. He would encouraged them to eat and eat and act as if he was celebrating one himself.

At least that what I was told by AbgNet when he read this entry.

These pictures above were taken in 1983, with the kids celebrating Raya day in Bukit Kerajaan in Kuala Kangsar. It was odd to say the least; for I don't think I would like to experience this in the new millennium. It made mockery of a religious festival, although to be honest, thirty years on, we have not really come to any close to settling the argument - one way or another.

The picture is bad, and this turned out to be our second last
Raya in Kuala Kangsar and the second last raya with bapak. There was another
raya in 1984 in KK, before moving back to Taiping.

Bersongket and bersampin and an attempt to
tie teh sampin ala P Ramlee. You should watch how
P Ramlee did it in Madu Tiga - to tie the sampin that
is (and not to marry three wives) LOL
He made it too easy!!

Our first Raya in Taiping and without bapak (bapak died a week
or so before this Raya Haji. I had the privilege then to take
this picture as I had taken an extended leave of absence from
my classes due to bapak's demise. This is Aug or early Sept 1984 ,
or 10 Zulhijjah to be precise.

Could this be Raya day with the patriarch Tok Adam? He is all dressed up.
Can you confirm AbgNet please? He passed away in 1986, so this could be sometime
in the 80s too.

The beautiful sounds of Hari Raya

, 

I do have many favourite Raya songs, typically songs from the 60s and 70s as they are timeless. Dendang Perantau, the PRamlee's classic is one; who would forget this song when we were away for the first time at the tender age of 13, with Fadhil (now Haji) strumming his guitar and humming this song. Memang mengalir airmata masa tu. I guess, at that time, it was Raya Haji, and we were down with chicken pox at Block G sickbay. Not sure if Haji Dhil was there too due to chicken pox. – most likely he was too. May be his parents dropped by on the Raya day, did they not, Haji? And didn't they give me some duit raya too? Oh boy, I can't remember much now. Only vaguely.


Mak had wanted to fly to KB to visit me that Raya, but I am sure she would not have the money to buy the plane ticket. Flying in the 70s is not in our vocab then.


But I survived that raya with Dendang Perantau.

But I remember abang Harry (now Datuk Dr Azhari, chief cardiologist IJN) had offered to sell back my bus ticket (to KL), upon knowing that I would not be able to travel due to chickenpox. He had been the one arranging the tickets for those who wished to return home (being the Block Captain with abg Zuflida??). Of course the journey would be up to KL only. I would have to figure out how to get back to Taiping, which I thought would not be a problem. But it was not meant to be. Now he saves lives; previously he had saved me money for a trip I can't – and did not, take.

MRSM then would not arrange for her students to return home for the raya. We had to make our own arrangement.

Being a perantau at the age of 13, we tried to console ourselves with Dendang Perantau. Nevermind that some of us would not have known what’s a tepian mandi.

Doa di Hari Mulia by Uji is another. I would go for the sentimental Raya song anytime; being a sentimental person myself. All those yearning and she sounds so fragile in this song. Aah, Uji, the angelic voice.

You can find the actual footage of Uji Rashid singing this song here. Unforunately they did not allow embedding.

Of course the MNasir's song Satu Hari dihari Raya is very different from other Raya song. It is a song about the spiritual aspect of Raya. I remember some people were calling for us to abandon those melancholic songs in favour of the spiritual ones. May be they are right. I am sure we need to move on as a society than looking back and yearn and long for the years gone by.

But with me being me, I can't help but feel nostalgic every time we are close to Hari Raya with those sad songs. Somehow I need that feeling of sadness so that I drown myself in happiness, huh? It is no fun with those happy songs, ironic isn't it? With the sad songs, come the reflection I guess, and we need to reflect on ourselves every now and then.

Oh, and I would be really sentimental about this song – any time, every time, all the time. Sanisah Huri sounds so sad, so melancholic in this song! I don't know why I was so much into this song every Hari Raya. May be because I heard this song in a shopping complex in the 70s in KB, while doing our fortnightly trip to KB and browsing buying cards, may be in Taiping; who knows. It doesn't matter now.

And I can't, for the life of me, figure out what this song is all about. What is that tuduh-menuduh thingy?

 

But in any case, here they are. New raya song; would they ever make to my list? I believe it is difficult, but it is not impossible. When I first heard the new Ahmad Nawab raya songs in the 70s, they were new obviously. But the many songs by Sharifah Aini, Uji, Hail Amir, DJ Dave would get constant airtime as melodically they are quality songs. If the lyrics were not of raya origin, they would have made it to the chart. For example the raya song by Sudirman  -  Dari Jauh ku pohon Maaf, was perhaps released in 1981 and yes, we love it then as we would today.

Aljawaher’s KuPohon Restu Ayah Bonda is another song from the 80s that made it to my list. I consider this as a new song, in the same category as Sudir's and I remember listening to these two songs over the airwaves in Perth Australia during my matric days. We of course had to listen through the shortwaves (SW - do you guys know what this is? ;-) and only during late night and in the wee hours of the morning it would be clear enough to listen to Malaysian radio.

 

But new song of the 90s and of the new millennium pale in comparison, and hence I would not be bothered to listen to them at all. It is now a crowded place, with many songs competing for our attention within a very short space of time. Only the best will be remembered; the rests are best consigned to the bin of history.


What's your favourite Raya song?

Epilogue

Don't get me wrong. There are many nice jovial songs for Raya. "Minta mak kuih sepotong" is one (Selamat Hari Raya - Saloma). "Marilah adikku, marilah bersama ku, kutukar baju mu yang baru" is another (Suasana Rinang dihari Raya - Junainah M Amin). I do enjoy them for sure.

Another remake of the song Dendang Perantau by one 70s singer is also excellent. It sounds so different from the PRamlee's version, but it was done tastefully. This is the version by A Razak. But I can't find it over the net - only once I hard it over Klasik Nasional. One of the rare occasion when a remake is a good as the original version. Typically they are thrash and should be consigned to the dustbin of history.

But this version by A Razak is a treasure. It was beautifully done.

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Tuesday October 9, 2007 - 07:04pm (SGT) Edit | Delete | Permanent Link | 0 Comments

Ultravox's Vienna

I remember the first time I was in a first world.

Being a bright-eyed boy (even if I said so myself - hahaha), hardly touching 18, I was mesmerized by Perth. The cool, crisp and pleasant air of February of 81 will be never be matched again. After all, February is a mid-summer month for the southern hemisphere, and that morning of February was anything but.

But I guess then was at the initial phase of the invasion of music video, and I was bowled over by Ultravox's Vienna. Back then I thought that this was the best music video that I had ever seen and 30 years later, I still think that that is still the best music video ever made.

The chilling winter ambience of Vienna is still etched in my mind, and of course Midge Ure's voice is clearly haunting!

Lovely.

Vienna - Ultravox

We walked in the cold air

Freezing breath on a window pane,

Lying and waitin.

The man in the dark in a picture frame,

So mystic and soulful

A voice reaching out in a piercing cry,

It stays with you until

The feeling has gone only you and I

It means nothing to me

This means nothing to me.

Oh Vienna

The music is weaving

Haunting notes, pizzicato strings,

The rhythm is calling.

Alone in the night as the daylight brings,

A cool empty silence

The warmth of your hand and a cold grey sky,

It fades to the distance

The image has gone only you and I

It means nothing to me

This means nothing to me

Oh, Vienna.

This means nothing to me

This means nothing to me

Oh, Vienna