La Folia

by Jelena Popržan

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    Limited Edition 12" 180g blue vinyl with printed inner sleeve.

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    Contains following pieces:
    A:
    X Y Variations on La Folia
    #Glas
    B:
    Davie
    The Exorcism of Gwendolyn
    To Him
    The Life and Death of Suljo
    #Maulgeige (excerpt)

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1.
04:30
2.
3.
04:47
4.
5.
03:17
6.
04:31
7.
03:02
8.
03:33
9.
04:56
10.
11.
05:29
12.
13.
03:42

about

Recorded and mixed 2019 by Franz Schaden in Wavegarden
Mastered by Martin Scheer
Artwork by Nieuw NDG
Photos by Vladimir Pavić
Translation by Ida Cerne

All compositions by Jelena Popržan
unless otherwise stated

total time 71:40

credits

released January 31, 2020

Jelena Popržan - 5-stringed viola*, voice, mouth fiddle, glass harp, loops

Additionally on “The Exorcism of Gwendolyn”:
Lina Neuner - double bass
Tahereh Nourani - flute

* Quintone (five-stringed viola),
made by Peter Volkmer

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Jelena Popržan Vienna, Austria

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Track Name: Wean
A Reinigungswagen vor an Cineplex, / a zernudelter Popcornbecher. / Per Handy mocht a Madl endlich Schluss mit ihr’m Ex, / daneben fluacht und huast a oida Zecher.

Und die Morgensunn leicht a heit wieder aufn Kahlenberg / und moit ung’fragt freches Gelb in miade G’sichter. / A Kaffee no, an Tischik, und dann ans Werk, / Wann’d Hacken aus is, brennen am Giartl wieda d’Lichter.

Du bist die Hauptstodt fia olle, / die söba net bei si’ daham san. / Bist wia a ausg’wechselts Schloss, / in des a net da neiche Schlissl passt. / Du falongst mehr, / als dass’s geben wüst, / so hamma lernen miassen, / uns söba z’nehma. / Und do schau her: Du losst da’s gfoin.

A Kran hot sie neilich in an Business-Turm faschaut, / weil sei Spiegelbüd schaut eam so ähnlich. / In da Brigittenau homs an neichen Wolkenkratzer baut, / de Brigittenauer Wolken krotzt des reichlich wenig.

Mein eastn Freind, den homs wegn Grafitti eignat. / Aufd Nordbahnbruckn hot a mein Namen aufegsprayt. / Die Sprayer vo heit lossn sie ja vom Kulturomt bezoin, / oba mein Namen auf da Nordbahnbrucken traut si kana übermoin.

Langsam merk i, du zierst di nur vor mir, / markierst den coolen, unnahbaren Schönen. / In Wirklichkeit bist allaa, so allaa wia wir, / Du wirst di an uns scho no gwehnan.

Unter Glas, Beton & Spekulation hean wir wos pochen, / aus Fleisch is’, aus Bluat is’, net golden, aber zinnobern. / Wer wenn net wir kann des Korsett aufbrechen, / wer wenn net wir die City fir di zruckerobern?

Dann bleib ruhig die Hauptstodt fia olle, / die söba net bei si’ daham san. / Aba des Schloss wirst nimmer auswechseln, / und i werd den Schlissl nie mehr ändern. / Gib zumindest so fü, wiast falongst fo uns. / Denn wir san du, / und du bist wir. / Und wir lossns uns gfoin.”

---

“A wash cart in front of a Cineplex, / a scrunched up popcorn cup. / A girl finally wants to break up with her ex by cell phone, / next to her an old boozer curses and coughs.

And the morning sun, again, eases up the Kahlenberg slope, / and paints, unbidden, fresh yellow onto tired faces. / One more coffee, and a smoke, and then it’s back to work, / when the day is done, the lights return along the Gürtel.

“You are the capital for all, / who aren’t at home in themselves. / You’re like a replaced lock, / into which the new key doesn’t fit. / You demand more / than you wanna give, / so we learn to take / what we can get, / And whaddya know, / you put up with it.

A crane has taken a shine to the Business Tower, / because its reflection resembles it / In Brigittenau they put up a new skyscraper / and the sky over Brigittenau doesn’t give a damn.

They arrested my first boyfriend for graffiti, / spraying my name on the Northern Railway Bridge. / The sprayers of today get paid by the Department of Culture, / but my name on the bridge no one dares to paint over.

Slowly I realize, you only play hard to get with me, / play the cool unapproachable beauty. / But in reality, you’re alone, as alone as we all are, / You’ll have to get used to us.

Under glass, concrete & speculation we hear it throb, / of flesh, of blood, not golden but cinnabar. / Who but us, can break the mold, / who but us can re-conquer the City for you?

So, stay the capital for us all, / all of us who don’t feel at home with themselves. / But you won’t replace the lock again, / and I’ll never change the key. / Give at least give as much / as you ask of us. / Because we are you / and you are us. / And we put up with it.”

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