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Author: KCF

  • Last Argentine concerts

    We are wrapping up our performances in Argentina this week with two concerts on Thursday, November 26: a free concert at the Colegio de Escribanos at 19:30hs and then the final concert of our two-month run at the Jazz Voyeur Club, starting at 21hs. (Yes, we’ll be running from one venue to the next on…

  • Last stand on this plump earth

    In the plaintive shadows of the canyon where the sun does not reach, I stand alone while the winds descend from the ridge tops and throw themselves at me like mad dogs. My poncho whips up. I am alone but there are generations of men who have gone ahead of me. They have been undone…

  • “El beso azul” on Argentine TV

    Maria and I performed “El beso azul,” one of our new songs on the Argentine TV program “Desde la vida,” a show dedicated to children growing up with different physical and mental challenges. Argentine rock musician Fena della Maggiora, who hosts the program, fell in love with the song and learned it in the studio…

  • Where the bougainvillea used to bloom

    Photo by John Fernandes Two years have passed since the bougainvillea last flowered. The green leaves still frame the window of my bedroom, but the vine has not put on any blossoms since you left. The branches are covered in robust, green leaves, but these are just symbols of missed encounters and twice-broken promises. The…

  • On stage / 6 Nov.

    We have been playing each week at the Jazz Voyeur Club in Buenos Aires. Very special guests have been joining us, such as Katie Viqueira (pictured here), Daniel Garcia, Ariel Prat, Guillermo Fernandez, Caracol… and the list goes on. We’ve also been playing private events around town, such as the corporate gig shown here. But,…

  • A carpet of words

    The blank white walls of the room are covered in illegible words. Totally. There is no spot that has not been written on. I do not know who wrote them or why, but they are the words that surround me, clamoring to break into my mind, imploring me. Covered in words like tattoos, the walls…

  • Buenos Aires whispered

    She drifts in and out of my vision and my life. I see her murkily, as if she were beneath the brown Rio de la Plata water. She swims languidly and shows no need of surfacing for air. When she opens her mouth to speak, it is muffled and I only see it opening and…

  • Buenos Aires Blues Festival… and more

    Yesterday was one of those glorious days where everything falls into place. Lunch with our dear friends Dolores Bengolea and her husband, film director Hector Olivera on the balcony of their Buenos Aires penthouse, an on-stage reencounter with my old friend and harmonica mentor Charly Cuomo at the Buenos Aires Blues Festival, and then a…

  • Across the night

    I watch the container ships move slowly across the water just below the horizon. They move so slowly yet with such implacable purpose. Turn away from the window and when you turn back, they are gone. Tug boats scurry out to meet them, airplanes prepare their descent into Aeroparque, a new metropolis rises in Puerto…