Anyway… 5 am was a tough one this morning, but I made sure I would be the one waking Robert up. Payback can be out of love as well! He wasn’t too enthusiastic about being petted and kissed… His face, after the confusion of seeing my big face and my stupid high-pitched voice wishing him good morning, was more in the likes of “Dude, go back to sleep, we went to bed past 2am, you loving maniac… For chewing sake!” He wasn’t wrong… What kind of freak would get out of bed after 3 hours of sleep to make sure he will have just enough time to write to his friends (who aren’t expecting any of his nonsense in the first place)? Well, here I am… And if my “why” and “what” are usually hard to be understood when I have 6 hours of sleep, the following should be fun to read… At least I hope so!

I went to bed that late compared to my usual body-crashing “schedule” as I decided to organize a celebratory dinner for the pre-release of my new single Calling Out! for The Club members, which is set to be globally available tomorrow. It’s important for me to pause, if only for a very brief instant, to appreciate the living nature of what we’re experiencing. It’s my way to be grateful for the incredible privilege I have to do (mostly) what vibrates within me, but even more so to be thankful in regard to those I have the utmost blessings to journey with… It’s how I express my profound gratitude and highlight the empowering essence of a friendship offered at the service of something much greater than us… It’s a sort of personal thanksgiving for me, and it’s what I’m learning to cultivate on a daily basis… Or seriously trying to ;)

The seriousness of the conversations was interspersed with moments of laughter, silliness, and our trademark nonsense. It was meaningful because it truly reflected who we are as a group, a tribe, and a family: highly unpretentious, yet both kind-hearted and profound. We toasted to the incredible pricelessness of a blessing we have to connect with you, to live our lives in real-time, deeply grounded while in constant transformative motion. And most of all, happy, really happy, to look at it all from human heights. We are not special, but the stewards of what is born from our collective communion, intangible for some, invisible for others, but nonetheless immensely sacred to me, to you, and to everyone of us… And that’s why any of my 5 am rendezvous with you always serves as the most fulfilling commitment there is. Its foundational character is a dedicated expression of the fond affection I have for you all, one that is essential to my core, my inner balance… My purposeful happiness.

Anecdotally, one of my neighbors, who saw me go out to the rooftop terrace way before sunrise almost every morning, asked me: “Alex… I often see you before dawn. Are you praying? You don’t appear as someone who follows the Muslim prayers,” he said, smiling. I spontaneously answered, “Stop spying on me!!!” I’m kidding… I said, “If praying means to be in a direct and personal connection with the Divine, I guess this is praying to me.” He concluded by adding, “I’m happy you are a praying man, then, because I was worried for you when I heard the sort of music you listen to and by the strange company you keep… Keep praying… it’s good for you!!!” Indeed, it is essential to do so, neighbor… Now stop spying on me!!!

Life creates life.

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: My upcoming album The Fragile Beauty (Of New Morning Hopes) is now progressing towards the song Calling Out!, but I nonetheless wanted to make sure I would answer all of your questions regarding the precious single Springtime. So here’s the third and last Springtime Q&A I assembled for you. From now on, you can expect a whole lot more music, art, and communal announcements to come!

Some Questions and My Answers

Matt Boone: Hi from Chicago! Is it still raining in Tangier today?

Not today, the bright blue sky is back! I just had a listen to my upcoming single’s radio mix on the terrace, and I’m beyond happy ;) … How’s Chicago? I can’t wait to go back and share a moment with you all!

George Martin: Hi Alex! How are you feeding Robert? I mean, did you give him steroids this week or what? I saw the pictures, and it looks like he’s doubled in size! Incredible! 😂

He’s doing great, he kicked the parvo out of his system, the mange, the parasites, and all. And he’s eating like there’s no tomorrow… So it’s good! On a different note, the food here could also explain what we all look like when we’re coming back from Morocco!

André Saveant: Bon il est où le petit Robert ?

Il est couché près de moi… après s’être fait bronzer sur la terrasse #spoiledlittleprince

Maarit Leppala: Upcoming single? Cannot wait?

The upcoming single will be available on Monday for The Club members… it’s indeed pretty exciting!!!

Tsugumi: New song???

Yes! This is the second single from my upcoming album! You will be able to listen to it on Monday. And I just heard a radio mix for it, and it sounds amazing!!!

Marlène Deslandes: Est ce l’album ou 1 new song qui sort le 2 sep?

La nouvelle chanson, dont tu as entendu l’extrait, sort le 2 septembre. L’album complet sera le 23 octobre seulement ! Et le 19 novembre, une petite surprise… (Oh, je crois que je ne devais pas en parler… !)

Michelle Rodriguez: Hi! It’s a great digital gathering! Not many artists join the chat during a YouTube Premiere like that unless they’re trying to sell something! 😂 I’m curious to know why you wanted us all to join together like that to share more about the song Springtime? It’s a really great idea!

For me, those gatherings, the assemblage that makes us “US”, are the main reasons why I’m doing art in the first place… So I’m blessed every time I have the opportunity to do it.

Allan Manchester: What is one small action that you think anyone can take today to make a difference in someone else’s life?

To be yourself… not to settle into becoming the product of someone else’s expectation or the distant caricature of someone you would like others to perceive you as. That, for me, is the first and probably most challenging step there is to take forward. And once you do, everything will be much clearer… At least that’s how I see the self-transformation necessary to make a difference and therefore become part of a global solution made at human height. Yours.

Serge Laflamme: Est-ce que c’est la chanson que tu avais partagé sur Substack récemment alors que tu enregistrais les voix?

Si l’extrait auquel tu fais référence prenait place à Tanger, je crois que tu parles de mon prochain single, Calling Out! que j’enregistrais ici (à Tanger) à la maison. Et si la vidéo prenait place dans mon studio d’enregistrement avec Ben, je crois que c’était effectivement pendant l’enregistrement de Springtime… Ma mémoire (ou le peu qu’il m’en reste) n’est pas la source la plus fiable d’informations précises, surtout sans plus de contexte… Tu devras m’envoyer le # du Substack auquel tu fais référence, et je pourrai te répondre avec plus d’assurance. ;)

Suzanna Janner: What made you realize that everyday compassion could be a form of political action?

When I started wondering why I was feeling so disconnected with the actual state of the world’s general radicalization and fragmentation, I realized there was no better way to prevent myself from adding to the omnipresent noises but to truly pay attention to whatever might be a tangible need around me… I soon figured that, way before the elusive measure of social justice I stood for most of my life, what’s deeply needed is human interaction. To remember that we are visible, that we exist. And real compassion ain’t designed for self-promotional selfies, nor can it be weaponized to serve whatever personal agenda we might righteously embody… may it be online or during sunny weekends.

Melanie Hoston: How do you think artists can remain honest and authentic in a culture where people are increasingly afraid of being misunderstood or cancelled?

First, I don’t believe it’s a collective position to have but a personal one, one that transcends our occupation or our title… The thing for an artist, or any other public figure, is that our voice, no matter how far it reaches, is not only easy to be instrumentalized, but we are also expected to express a very cut-and-dry type of position on all sorts of complex matters and circumstantial situations… If you don’t, or if you don’t do it according to the members of the digital police bureau, then you are such and such. You are either in the right camp or in the evil camp… See the difference? Right or evil… and the reality is some situations aren’t clear-cut and dry… They aren’t as simple as people would like us to act upon.

I don’t know how others should act or speak or not… For me, it’s about being honest with myself, and that leads me to being real with others. That’s why I’ll never be shy about being a humanist. And if I’ve learned to cultivate nuances over the years, you have to allow yourself to be honestly wrong… There’s no shame in not knowing EVERYTHING… No one should be scared of expressing themselves or admitting when they’re overwhelmed by a situation or another. It’s actually the best part in our ongoing transformation… or the sad explanation of our feeling of “stagnation”.

Honest art, by design, is subversive… And whoever has the courage to make their life their best “creation” is the ultimate artist and will never have to worry about imperfections and will keep on growing.

Sylvain Lebeau: J’aime le son que j’ai entendu pour la nouvelle toune! c’est quoi tes inspirations?

Pour Calling Out! (la nouvelle chanson), j’ai réalisé que je tendais vers un son plus psychédélique, plus années 60… Alors il y a assurément de ces éléments dans les sonorités.

Marcus Grundemann: When will you ship the Club package 15 anniversary super special edition extra beautiful?

September 17-18th, from Germany! You guys will freak out (positively lolol)!!! The package is INSANE (in an AHF way) 😉

Anne-Jasmine Delorme: 2 septembre noté! Est-ce qu’il y autre chose qu’on devrait savoir?

À part que nous serons 7 sur scène pendant la tournée européenne…? ;)

David Vaisse: Tellement impatient de pouvoir entendre Calling Out, l’extrait de ce titre a je crois plus a beaucoup de monde, good job AlexHenryFoster et toute la team !

Merci David, je suis incroyablement impatient que vous entendiez tout le voyage… Je viens d’ailleurs d’entendre la version radio de Calling Out! … C’était très singulier pour moi ce moment !

Mohsen Rezaei: hi dear Alex! what’s your opinion about streaming services compared to vinyl and other physical formats?

I think it serves different purposes, but my heart always goes to vinyl. It’s a moment, the intimacy, and all that comes with it that make it so special to me. But wait for the whole album packages, you’ll understand how much I love vinyls!!!

View the packages here

Steph Davis: When you’re writing lyrics, how do you know when you’ve finally found the right words for an emotion?

That’s the ultimate let go for me; to have the “proper” word. It used to drive me crazy before, until I added creative improvisation in my life. It wasn’t about the “word” itself but the intentionality of the word I would express. That’s why, just like the music, the lyrics are also evolving. They find textures, angles, shades, and tints that weren’t perceivable or that I wasn’t able to feel the depth of when I first illustrated them in the context of a song… It’s “right” when I let them shine in their own lights.

Anne-Jasmine Delorme: C’est fkn bon ça!!! Le videoclip est vraiment beau aussi! C’est le fun de voir ta ville, Tanger, de cette façon, mais je serais curieuse de savoir s’il y a des images qui symbolisent quelque chose en particulier... Je voix la croix... il y a un arbre mort... des épines aussi... Est-ce que c’est seulement des images de Tanger?

Merci Anne-Jasmine d’avoir pris soin de commenter comme tu l’as fait. Alors pour répondre à tes questions, je dirais que toutes les images du clip sont à la fois porteuses de moments, d’instants, de gens et d’intangibles éléments représentant ce que j’ai vécu lors de mes nombreux passages ici, tout comme ce que je continue d’expérimenter depuis que j’y réside.

Toutes ces images ont été capturées à un endroit ou un autre à Tanger, au fil de mes balades faites de désespoir, de chagrin et de confusion, à vouloir me perdre et disparaître, mais qui sont devenues porteuses de brillantes couleurs, de parfums d’espérance et de bienveillantes lumières et qui ont pavé, pour ainsi dire, la voie à un lâcher prise, une transformation et une liberté comme je n’en avais plus la foi, voire le désir…

C’est en fait à l’image du parcours qui m’a mené à mon Springtime personnel, et qui, plus je découvre et m’abandonne à l’unique “courant” de la ville, s’avère à la fois le reflet de ce qui donne à l’esprit de Tanger sa singularité, mais qui inspire le courage d’être qui nous sommes et d’en assumer la nature.

Alexandra Cliche: When did you write Springtime?

I initially started to explore the song’s theme back in 2022… I was getting increasingly ill physically, and it led me into a profound type of emotional turmoil at the time… Little did I know that my body was basically going through a rapid dying slope since I hadn’t discovered I needed emergency double cardiac graft surgery at that point… I remember that I felt as if the winter were turning itself into an endless affair, which was a truly rare phenomenon for the Virginian highlands where I live… Spring usually brings its hopeful colors early, but that particular year was strangely different, if not totally odd, adding to the bleakened state I was losing myself in a little more each day…

I guess the silver lining came when I decided to hold digital improvisational live stream sessions, which basically consisted of me conducting the band through a no-safety-net type of explorational writing live on my different social media platforms… It was somehow crazy, come to think of it, but it was exactly what I needed at that specific instant of my life… I figured that if I wasn’t able to enfranchise myself from the deepening depression I was in, I would lose myself into a sort of rare creative transgression, where “raw and honest” would represent the perfect rendition of the human imperfection I was trying to channel, as I was unable to touch it, let alone live it.

Springtime, at least in its very early inception, was one of those expressive, experimentational explorations… And like pretty much all of those improvisational sessions I let go into, I forgot it ever happened, probably helped by my heart surgery that followed… It was eventually while walking by Tangier’s seaside that the Springtime lyrics reemerged in a vivid manner: “When love has given what time has been taking away”. I didn’t really know where I had heard or read that before, but I started to muse about it for a while… again, totally unaware it was something I had actually written years before…

My photographer friend, Stephanie, with whom I shared those words, told me it was actually some lyrical fragments associated with one of those improvisational live sessions, remembering the whole context as she not only partook but was pretty involved in the project herself. And only once I finally had the opportunity to listen to that specific forgotten session did I stupefyingly realize that Springtime had been vibrating within me for quite a while, that it was the missing piece of a much wider creative universe awaiting me to be “ready” to become “it”… rather than simply settling myself into incarnating whatever convenient part I would see fit…

It took me a while… but here I am.

Andrew Martin: You’ve mentioned that you’re willing to delete things you’ve worked incredibly hard on if they don’t feel right. Was there something you originally recorded for Springtime that you ended up completely removing or transforming?

As strange as it sounds, the song Springtime came about through a rare sort of unconscious “gift” I believe was inspired, or designed, by a very particular set of circumstances I was facing at that very moment (I answered Alexandra Cliche much more extensively a little earlier in this entry), which led me to embark on a series of online live improvisational sessions I conducted the band through.

Springtime emerged through one of those sessions… That’s why for me, even if I had forgotten about the song and that tumultuous period of my journey, I decided to avoid reshaping too much of its initial character when I remembered the sole existence of the song.

And once it was clear that it had to not only be added to my record but also that it would become the pivotal part of its journey, I decided to avoid all sorts of additional “re-manipulations” and refrained from rewriting the whole thing for the sake of making it “new”.

Therefore, I only edited what I thought was muddying the narrative essence of the song… It was essential for me to keep it as close to its inception without attempting to recreate the specific character of the moment it was born from. It would have been totally foolish on my part to even try to do so. And that’s the reason why Springtime is the living organism it has always been from the get-go and why it grows through its own ongoing stream of renaissance rather than being the sterile product of my controlling ambition. I stepped out of the way and made sure I wouldn’t turn such a vibrant motion into a futile symbolistic reproduction at best.

More about Springtime

In fact, I’ve learned to unshamefully admit that I am the type of individual that not only needs to manage its highs and lows but that also deeply requires that kind of “clarifying” instant. Otherwise, I would just keep on going faster and faster and faster, without ever taking a second to admire the beauties of the journey I’m giving life to, nor foreseeing any of the blessings I would enjoy by slowing down a little…

Therefore, a foggy morning like this one, where you can’t let your spirit flow beyond the horizon you can’t see, is quite a wonderful benediction to dwell in… It guides you back to explore what profoundly lies within you instead, which is incredibly necessary, at least for me, regardless of if I’m not always too fond of what I could actually find, of what may be hidden from the lights still, up to what I purposely kept denying the sole existence of… It’s all there, somewhere, buried under the good, the great, and the amazing… and the fragments of my scattered memories… ;)

Seems like Robert enjoys the rain as well… His ultimate thrill, as I’m presently writing, is to run full speed from one side of the terrace allllll the way to the other side, only to let himself slide and roll over the watery tiles, over and over, before coming back to me, totally drenched, to shake it all off… ALLLL over me… And then trying to dry his still pretty wet fur over my bare legs, only to jump on my lap to dry himself some more… and kiss me.

“Ahhhh… Ain’t that sweet?!” I told myself after the first of the 25 subsequent occasions he did it… Now I feel like I’m more of a human drying sponge than the loving daddy I initially thought he was trying to make me feel like. Oh well! He’s nothing short of my beloved pup still, and I’ll remember that “watery” excitement of his the next time I bring him back to the pool, which he really didn’t like the first, second, or third time we went… “Come, Robert, come play in the water with your human sponge!”

Life creates Life

Your brother and friend

Alex

PS: I forgot… The intro doesn’t have anything to do with the object of that Substack, since it is about the answers to some of the questions I received during my last live open conversation on the song Springtime… Looks like I’ve been carried away by the rain, then distracted by the “fun” sensation of feeling Robert’s wet fur on my bare legs…! That being said, don’t miss the third and last part of the conversation on August 29… I’ll be live with you in the chat box ;)

Some Questions and My Answers

*The questions I received in French are also answered in French, so feel free to use any tool online to translate them to English (or any other language!).

Sylvain Lebeau: Bon matin! Comment va Robert?

Il a une série de tests à faire cette semaine, et nous en saurons plus à ce moment la, mais il semble aller nettement mieux, surtout au réveil lorsqu’il vient amoureusement me lacérer le visage avec ses petites griffes d’affection.

Peter Smith: Hi Alex, simple but serious question... How are you? You look good!

I’m doing much better, the spirit is high and the body is holding up… never felt that good in a very long time!

Bruno: You often talked about the fact that you see music with colors… Do you associate seasons with colors also?

Yes, I do. But from a very young age, seasons have been mostly associated with perfumes and scents… I guess that singular olfactive memory of mine has been greatly exacerbated by the recent major memory loss I have to cope with, a result of the microembolism I endured during the double cardiac graft surgery gone bad I underwent 3 years ago… Different odors or aromas are now gingered-up imageries, souvenirs, and even specific sensations I thought had been completely erased from my head… So I’m much more attentive to those little scents now, as their triggering effects are incredibly rewarding in regard to my new cognitive condition. And that’s why I’m unconsciously referring to olfactive elements in my writing, I suppose…

That being said, it is quite remarkable to realize how sensitively underdeveloped we become with modern technologies and the ever faster pace of we too often lose ourselves in.

Anne Jasmine Delorme: J’aime tellement Springtime! À quand la nouvelle musique?

Le prochain extrait va sortir le 2 septembre et tout l’album sera disponible le 23 octobre. Je suis très impatient de partager tout ça avec vous.

Aurelie Blanchouin: Quelle idée t’a permis de mettre le son des cloches dans cette chanson?

Je voulais illustrer musicalement la pluralité culturelle que l’on retrouve sur Tanger, où les églises côtoient les mosquées et les synagogues… Et que la richesse de la différence est ce qui fait de la ville son unicité. J’éprouve à travers ce son de cloches une sorte d’espérance face à la folie destructrice liée à l’isolationnisme communautaire et au ségrégationnisme social avec lesquels le monde est actuellement confronté, pour ne pas dire profondément plongé…

Marine Hurtubise: Tu as souvent parlé de chercher l’inconfort dans le processus de création… Est-ce que c’est quelque chose que tu recherchais lorsque tu es tombé sur cette citation de Darwish ?

Pour moi, autant je cultive l’idée de vivre instinctivement et, par extension, d’être inconsciemment en phase avec la nature organique de mon art, autant je suis toujours à la recherche d’une étincelle intérieure, de quelque chose d’assez significatif pour me faire sortir de l’orbite de mon obsession à trouver ce Graal émotionnel qui me permettra de m’abandonner sans hésitation à un nouveau projet… Quelle que soit cette étincelle. Cette soi-disant obsession peut me consumer pendant des mois, voire des années. Et c’est exactement ce que je ressentais avant de tomber sur un recueil de poésie de Darwish lorsque je suis allé rendre visite à mon amie Stephanie à la librairie Les Insolites. Tout a immédiatement pris tout son sens, comme si ce livre m’attendait, ce qui est particulièrement lourd de signification, puisque c’était le tout dernier endroit où j’aurais pensé trouver cette étincelle… Tout est devenu plus clair, et j’ai tout de suite su qu’il s’agissait de cette porte qui s’ouvrait et que j’espérais tant trouver au cœur des mystères invisibles de mes errances nocturnes dans les rues encore bondées de Tanger.

Alessia Zerbi: I love that piece of poetry by Darwish that inspired you. Living and dreaming despite everything, the rebellion against fate... Do you think your punk roots played a significant role in the transformation you went through? Could the poet’s quote represent a form of DIY applied to life?

Darwish allowed himself to evolve and be transformed. For me, he’s the pinnacle of what “punk” mantras truly mean. Defiance isn’t social transgression, it’s self-metamorphosis…

David_DV: My question for this week; From what we’ve heard so far, the new album feels a bit more pop than pure rock. Is that intentional, or just a reflection of where you’re at right now?

The album is truly a journey. It’s hard for me to identify a genre or to define it in a specific word… You’ll feel its ongoing stream when you’re able to dwell on it as a whole… But now one thing for sure: the album that will follow The Fragile Beauty will be more direct in its approach… At least it is as we speak… It might change. Well, it will change…!

Oliver Atkinson: Did “Springtime” reveal what it wanted to become gradually, or was there a moment when you suddenly understood, “Okay, this is what this song is about”?

I don’t think I can ever understand the profound nature of a song… Not because it’s designed to be elusive, but because I’ve ceased to look for a tangible comprehension of what isn’t meant to be fully understood. The liberating essence of a song, of a piece of art, of a moment, of a conversation, of a smile exchanged with a stranger… it all resides in letting go, in the renouncement of our so-called need to control. The desire to understand, or the sole idea that it could even be possible to do so, limits the transformative impact of anything that could emancipate us at some point in our journey… At least that’s how I see it.

Autumn Colds Band: When you are improvising does it go wrong sometimes and when it does, How are you fixing that?

It’s always going in a direction I wouldn’t expect… and that’s the intangibility I want to dwell into. So there’s no need to fix anything, as it’s actually the honesty I’m looking for… even though it might lead to a band meeting later on…! 🤣

Ramona: Is there a specific sound in Springtime that you consider essential to the emotion of the song? A sound that, if removed, would make the song a completely different one?

For me, there is no sonic soul in a song without the bass line, and it’s particularly true in the fabric of an uptempo piece of music. Without the groove, the body cannot connect with the brain, and without the bass tone (and by extension, its vibration), it’s more challenging for our spirit to let go and instinctively abandon itself to the rhythmic and melodic motion it carries. That’s why, while I appreciate the musicianship involved in math rock’s methodological arrangements or the highly sophisticated assemblages in prog and metal, I don’t feel the emotional and spiritual involvement that inevitably uplifts me in Motown music or the slow, deeply sinking evolution of long songs leading to an upcoming sonic climax as crafted by a band like Swans, for example… So the short answer is the bass line! And I’m quite blessed that Jeff has the unique and tremendous ability to translate it all through his bass playing… And you’ll feel it even more with the new album!

Hervé Desailly: la suite, la suite, la suite.... vivement la version live .... entre 15 et 20’ ??? a très bientôt quelque part en Europe

En fait, comme je suis encore à vivre l’intimité émotionnelle qui fut vécue en studio, je suis également impatient de découvrir ce que la chanson me fera vivre lorsque je l’explorerai en formation live et incroyablement curieux de la façon dont elle me transformera également… Et oui, tout ça se vivra ensemble très bientôt en Europe…!

cy_musique6703: Question un peu hors sujet mais pas concernant la musique. Penserais tu a créer de nouveau un jour, un album sous le nom de Yfe comme avant avec tes inspirations du Maroc entre autres

Bonne question… Je crois que l’esprit de YFE réside en moi d’une façon encore plus vive qu’elle ne l’était à l’époque où je me suis décidé d’y mettre pause… Il m’était devenu difficile d’en incarner la nature que je voulais libre et qui me semblait se digérer vers du formatage, ce qui explique sans doute la nature des derniers albums du groupe… Mais je ne dirai jamais non ; je me réaffranchis de cette importante période de ma vie…

Melanie Hoston: Tu parles d’une force de créer sa propre réalité plutôt que d’accepter celle qu’on nous a donnée. Dans quelle mesure la chanson vient-elle de cette expérience d’être présent à Tanger ? Les choses qui t’ont été données en chemin ont quand même eu une place importante dans le processus, même si tu as finalement créé quelque chose d’incroyable à partir de tout ça.

Puisque l’inception de la chanson a eu lieu en Virginie, pendant ce qui semblait être une suspension hivernale sans fin, avant de reprendre dans les rues de Tanger des années plus tard, elle évoque pour moi ce mouvement perpétuel de la vie qui coule en nous, indépendamment de notre capacité — ou de notre incapacité — à reconnaître sa véritable évolution… C’est pourquoi Springtime a plus à voir avec ce qu’implique notre renaissance intime qu’avec son premier degré de compréhension, plus évident, en soi… même si, d’une certaine manière, les deux sont tout aussi réels. C’est le résultat de ce processus, ou alors c’est la source par laquelle le courant trouve son propre mouvement… Je ne sais pas. Et encore une fois, c’est mieux ainsi. Autrement, cela deviendrait une sorte de formule générique qui finirait essentiellement par décolorer chacune des couleurs appelées à éclore librement, à l’abri de notre intervention forcée…

More About Springtime

Watch the Music Video

Those “conversations” are the unfiltered representations of the unscripted moments I’m having with Jeff… They pretty much could be “live”, except for the fact that I have them segmented in a few distinctive parts, as it’s imperative for me to keep it all as it was. Like the flow of life I’m resolutely immersed in, those sit-down interviews are designed to remain unedited… They’re capturing, like a Polaroid picture, an instant in its purest form, one that, like the Polaroid’s nature, will slowly fade over time… Not because it was destined to disappear, nor because it was inconsequential… on the contrary, for me, the reason such a static picture will eventually lose every single pigment of its colors and therefore remain a blurry shade of its former identity is solely due to the transformative essence of those honest dialogues.

That’s actually why I’m considering any of my heart-to-heart exchanges with Jeff as a priceless gift, even if I know that it “only” represents the initial stage of that inner metamorphosis, as the second degree of that self-evolution comes in the form of all the questions, comments, and thoughts you so generously commune with me, may it be during our collective premiere-watching rendezvous, when you dwell into the re-run, or whenever you stumble on one of those videos in the future…

And in order to honor the privilege I have to connect with you on such a unique level, it’s highly significant for me to make a proper pause in order to answer your questions and to bonify what I had to summarize during the fairly short segment (at least for me) of the conversation.

Below are some of the answers. You can still watch the first part if you have missed the premiere.

Some Questions and My Answers

*The questions I received in French are also answered in French, so feel free to use any tool online to translate them to English (or any other language!).

1. Emmanuel Barache: Existe-t-il une connexion entre Kimiyo (que j’adore personnellement) et le printemps ? Je fais référence aux cerisiers japonais dont la floraison éphémère ne survient qu’au printemps

Absolument,

J’ai une profonde connexion avec le temps et cela se traduit par ma fascination envers les différentes saisons qu’il comporte… J’ai eu l’incroyable privilège de voyager à travers le globe, où le mouvement des saisons ne correspondait pas à ce que j’avais pu expérimenter depuis mon enfance. Ces voyages ont eu pour bénédiction d’étendre mon esprit, mais surtout de nourrir mon imagination et d’en abattre les frontières…

Ainsi, ces éléments de vie ont créé des sous-courants qui font office de connexion intangible reliant mes projets créatifs par des ficelles invisibles… Le Japon, même si mes prochains albums s’enracinent dans des univers culturels et circonstanciels laissant paraître, du moins en surface, un monde de différences, s’avère néanmoins un élément significatif… Dans le cas précis de « Springtime », le concept de « Higan », qui symbolise la traversée du fleuve d’illusion et de chagrin du « Shigan » (ce monde) vers la paix de l’illumination, est au coeur de la chanson…

2. Tsugumi: I wonder if there’s any talk about the kaleidoscope in the music video? I think it represents waves... I really love the imagery inside the kaleidoscope. ♪ I have to get up early, so I’ll be heading off now.

You are absolutely right. As you know me, everything I’m giving life to has several emotional layers… Symbolism, may it be expressed through words, sounds, or imagery, are the intangible threads connecting everything I do and commune together… And in that case, in many ways, the water representation illustrated via the kaleidoscope reflects life, death, renaissance, and transformation.

3. FredLawless: ​​Tu vis à Tanger maintenant ?

À temps partiel, comme ma maison en Virginie s’avère encore en rénovation après plus de 18 mois depuis la catastrophe qui l’aura laissée presque entièrement détruite. Mais je pense sincèrement à venir m’installer sur Tanger de façon permanente dans un avenir pas trop lointain ! L’esprit de la ville me correspondant parfaitement, et j’ai un amour significatif pour les gens qui font de ce lieu un endroit profondément unique pour moi.

4. Rebecca M&M: Do you think that it’s Tangier that has changed more over the years, or have you changed more than the city?

I think Tangier has its own transitional motion, its own rhythm… an evolving movement that lies as a unique shade, a singular tint, on the human tapestry inspired by the city’s spirit.

The invitation was for me, and for whoever managed to drift in its midst, to abandon ourselves in its profoundly transformative current…

And when you do, you no longer ask yourself what brought you there in the first place, nor the reasons inherent to your rebirth…

You become, you are, and therefore you have the opportunity to live accordingly.

5. Miss Isabel: What is your most recent discovery about Tangier and how does it influences you?

I recently met artists from Tangier who asked me what creative freedom was for me, and I’ve been musing about that ever since… I came to realize that for me, after years of fatalism and cynicism, freedom starts with the acceptance of elements that aren’t designed to be understood or comprehended… because they are much greater than myself, and I believe that’s the reason why acceptance leads to a deeper sense of personal purpose… Whatever it is. After a lifelong chase to achieve “things”, I came to realize that freedom lies in the infinite realm of intentionality by which we are, and therefore the “doing” part becomes its natural extension… And that is how Tangier brightens my otherwise limited views each occasion I come here…

6. Jens Schwenkhagen: ​​is this on the roof of your Riad?

Yes it is! This is where I spend most of my days when I am here. It offers me a wonderful view over the bay and the city. I found peace in its balance of early morning quietness and inspiration through the soft sounds of the Medina’s life being carried on over here by the wind.

This is also the place from which I write all my Substacks and work on my songs… So far the neighbors seem to appreciate the stripped-down version of my music… We’ll see about the full band experience when we play here this upcoming November.

7. David_DV: Avec tous ces titres de chanson, tu devrais faire les 4 saisons comme Vivaldi.

Cette juste observation me fait sourire, car lorsque l’on me parle de ce à quoi tu fais référence, je réponds toujours à la blague : “Je ne sais pas du tout à quoi tu fais référence.” Mais il y a, évidemment, une disposition de ma part à capturer l’essence des saisons qui, pour moi, représentent non seulement le cycle de la vie, mais qui nous offrent une forme de balance intérieure à travers leur nature intangible. Alors, oui, ça me semble très logique comme perspective et je vais devoir m’y pencher… Car il ne me resterait que “l’automne”, qui fut très longtemps la saison qui m’inspirait le plus… Alors je crois que ça serait un sujet profond auquel m’abandonner ;)

8. Élodie Bourgeois: Tu dis souvent que tu es à la recherche de nouvelles couleurs, de nouvelles émotions et de nouvelles sensations... Penses-tu qu’un lieu puisse devenir une partie intégrante de ton identité créative? Ou peut-être que tu le ressens plus comme une sorte de statu quo?

Pour moi, un lieu tel que Tanger, comme le furent Tokyo, Paris et Berlin avant lui, s’avère un des éléments qui façonnent le parfum de qui je suis en tant que personne et qui, par extension, incarne la fragrance unique de ce que j’ai le privilège de créer en tant qu’artiste… et qui surtout, incarne ce que j’ai l’ultime bonheur de pouvoir communier avec vous… Et ce partage, cette collectivisation, a pour effet de faire de cette palette de couleurs olfactive un organisme vivant qui ne cesse de s’épanouir au gré des expériences et des rencontres qu’elle suscite.

9. Peter Smith: I was curious… the lyrics are sometimes more poetic, sometimes very personal: “I’m drifting away,” and sometimes communal: “We’ve lost our faith” and in the chorus. Is there a reason for this shift?

I think I came to realize that whatever I may experience, the more I share and commune with others, the more I can see those sensations and feelings expanding in a much wider dimension than myself… which ultimately enfranchised the words and the sounds from the very places they were inspired by… and that’s what makes each of those songs free from my own limitations, may it be my emotional pudicity or my fear of being judged by exposing my heart too clearly… the songs, once emancipated from desire to control or limit their organic growth, will not only naturally expand as they are experienced, but will keep on transforming me a little more each time I will abandon myself in their midst… it could be seen as “living art”, I simply see all that as a stream of life designed to invite us to evolve…

So the lyrics came as an instinctive expression of those personal realizations.

10. Alessia Zerbi: Is there any particular place of Tangier featured in the video that has been especially important to you in the process of rebirth?

Each element I added in the video is a fraction of that high stream I decided to let go into at some point in my journey… But most of all, it’s the people’s spirit, defining the city, that inspired me to take a real chance at life… At being… and if I could have visually expressed it all through a different creative lens… I wanted real, raw, felt, at human height, reflective of the “springtime” I went through in so many ways… Like a canvas of possibilities that we all have the opportunity to define or refine as we let go and experience what we decide to be our existence… hopefully based on who we truly are in that exact instant… evolving, always, as my late friend and tremendous artist Najoua incredible body of work keeps on reminding me… The final result of any painting we may give birth to is never the result of what we may have initially had in mind when we give it a first stroke of colors, but it’s the reflection of our heart beating through every shade and tint of life that ultimately characterizes what we think we can explain afterwards… until we realize that not only can we not explain anything, but also that it’s truly self-reshaping to live through the emotions emerging from what we feel by seeing… and that vision will inevitably expand as you open your mind and heart in the face of your own mesmerization.

11. Adam Roebuck: Earlier this year you talked about a year of affirmation, now you talk about Springtime like a sort of rebirth compared to Windows in the Sky… Did you already shift to something else this year?

It’s intrinsically part of the same movement, the same stream of life… The goal for me is never to find the source or to define the nature of such motion… It’s a sort of pure transgression in the face of my need for emotional security, a defying way to let go and become one with that unique flow… Affirmation isn’t a monochromatic state of heart and soul. It’s a daily assertive cultivation that takes shape like a piece of inanimate clay turned alive through the hands of a master sculptor… which is yourself…

That’s why, for me, we are both the creator and the object of its intentional and purposeful dedication… Shift? No. Ongoing transformation, always.

12. Jean-Pierre Marchand: À quand le show à Montréal?

Tu es libre le 19 novembre prochain ? Pourquoi pas au Studio TD ? Je ne peux en dire plus d’ici le 2 septembre… mais je crois que ça te donne, ainsi qu’à tous les gens avec qui il nous tarde de partager pareil moment significatif à la maison, une assez bonne indication de ce qui vient pour Montréal.

13. Kevin Robertsin: You said that the song was inceptive for a long time in some ways since your surgery… when did you know that Springtime would become such an important song for this new album?

I never know until the journey basically leads me there… I have a highly unorthodox creative process, especially when it comes to crafting an album. I’m writing the journey as I’m experiencing it, from the sparking inception of the record’s first track… Up until the emancipative last song, I don’t have much general clarity regarding where I may have actually stood while living the journey… I have the light at my feet guiding me one step of the transitional stage of the voyage at the time… “New Morning Hope” and “Springtime”, which I kind of see as the perfect embodiment of that ongoing shedding transformation, became the pivotal phase of the record’s emotional tide when I started to feel its rise taking form organically… I abandoned myself in that uplifting movement and knew the song reflected exactly where I was at that exact instant… and was disposed to assume the next step it essentially morphed into afterward.

14. Denis Grenier: Superbe chanson et magnifique video!! Qui a réalisé le video? Et, la dame qui peint... elle semble avoir un talent vraiment wow! ♥

Merci beaucoup Denis pour la gentillesse de tes mots. Le vidéoclip a été produit par Ben et moi. L’idée était de vous inviter à Tanger un peu de la même façon dont j’ai initialement expérimenté ma venue ici, soit à travers les gens qui donnent à la ville son esprit unique et à ses différents tableaux culturels et historiques qui nous plongent au cœur d’un mouvement en constante transformation, mais qui, malgré de multiples mutations, n’en demeure pas moins à hauteur humaine…

Et pour ce qui est de Najoua, c’était une personne à la lumière à la fois vibrante et inspirante. Elle nous laissa un héritage sans pareil, fait d’ouverture, d’audace et de bienveillance… Ce qui fait d’elle, et par extension son art créatif, le reflet de cette ville à la fois profondément émancipatrice et foisonnante d’une vie aux innombrables facettes.

15. Aurelie Blanchouin: 4 min pour ce morceau est ce que tu aurais voulu faire encore plus long ? 🤣

Springtime est l’extension de la pièce New Morning Hope, dont le courant se transforme sur près de 10 minutes…

16. Stephan Bogaert: Really looking forward to what kind of version this will grow while playing it live. A few years ago on a live session this song was at least 8 minutes. Will there be a long album version?

You’ve got a really good memory. I honestly didn’t have any recollection of those live sessions until I got some of “Springtime” lyrics constantly reverberating in my head at the early stage of my album envisioning.

That experiential live session is most definitely one of the numerous undercurrents from which my actual project is taking form as a whole… As for “Springtime” more specifically, I saw the song as a very unique display of emotional flow, one that is defined by two distinctive types of movements… which is the reason why I decided to explore it all in a much deeper immersion and why such exploration would ultimately lead me to highlight its slow streaming high rise into a journey of its own… giving birth to a song called “New Morning Hope”.

Life creates life.

Your brother and friend,

Alex

PS: I will share more information regarding my Tangier Weekend Special Event in the upcoming days… If you are interested to know more about it, visit this page and register yourself to receive all the details related to it.

It’s difficult to remain dreadful before what looks like an intentional act of hopeful art form being so generously daubed in a unique real-time motion… Even for me. The blooming coastlines, lighting up right in front of my fatalistically worn-out eyes, are simply too beautiful to remain cynical about such a daily renaissance. “It will be a good day today, boy,” I spontaneously whispered, looking down at Robert, who was peacefully gazing ahead. “What do you think?” I softly added, conscious a too-loud voice might disturb the suspended nature of the moment we were being part of... Robert answered with one of his unique and loving smiles...

A Short Moroccan Tour, a Very Special Tangier Weekend

And indeed, it is a good day, as I can finally share the details, at least some of them, of a project I’ve been envisioning in my heart from the instant I had the healing blessing to set roots in the dazzling city of Tangier… almost a decade ago already.

After playing in the desert festival of Taragalte, where I’ll remain with the band, team, and crew to shoot a live film. I’ll then be playing in Aït Benhaddou, Rabat and Casablanca before heading to Tangier, where I’ll have the utmost joy to experience a very special weekend with anyone able to join me for a few days. In the span of 3 days, I’ll play 2 different shows, do a live Open Conversation, film a new music video, share different gatherings, go around in the city, and many more surprises for you to partake in!

The official details will be announced in early September, but since the places will be fairly limited, I wanted to give you enough time to set yourselves in motion… and in that regard, I’ll have people guiding you through the whole process… from answering your initial questions regarding any logistical inquiries you may have to guiding you every step of the way up to having appointed people to welcome you once you’ll be in Tangier.

At this point, I would like it if you registered for the weekend through a simple contact form to let us know if you are seriously thinking about joining me and the band for that very special weekend… And we’ll take it from there! 😉

Get all the Details

Exciting times!!!

Life creates life

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: I’ll share some news concerning Robert’s health very soon! Little hint: we are both dealing with the mange virus. Yes, we are already pretty close…! The only difference? He had a vaccine shot, while I have some “soap” to help me deal with the crazy itching (if you are wondering, no, it doesn’t really work).

In many ways, I’m in phase with who I am and aligned with who I decide to be. That state of heart and mind grants me the incredible privilege to have much more clarity on the evolving flow of my existence, but even more so, it gives me a much wider view on a reality I have the profound desire to keep on defining, to single-pick every pigment with which I’m choosing to color my world and to assume it all… The joyful, the dreadful, and whatever tones I can see emerging in between… The magnificence of the transformative chaos I’m engaged in is the sum of those shades and tints that ultimately testify to the richly alive type of collage I choose my journey to be… To become, metamorphose, and morph over and over again…

My 10-Year Anniversary Tangier Family Gathering

It was utterly significant for me to welcome the very people who had such an impact on my life’s reinvention flow. We hugged, we kissed, we talked, we laughed, we reminded ourselves of our unbelievable and crazily anecdotal beginnings, but more importantly, we were celebrating our 10-year benchmark anniversary together.

What’s the most fabulous state of our now collective story is the fact that our relationship has been amazingly fulfilling and alive from its inception, so it wasn’t some sort of “good old days” celebration, but another singular reason to see each other and to keep on cultivating what’s been so organically growing for more than a decade now… The blessing of the ongoing “now” is nurtured in the context of an immensely pivotal hunch decision that could entirely transform the stream of your adventure… That’s the priceless gift that we commune as one…

I know it sounds dramatic, and probably rightfully so, but I wouldn’t be here, nor anywhere, if it weren’t for those people. During the whole evening, I was gratefully looking at everyone with a profound and pure type of enfranchised affection I rarely allow myself to experience, if ever, but with them. And that’s what I’m most thankful about… To be me… Alex. Or should I say the Liz (as my nickname here is Liz Taylor — it’s a long story, but I guess you can figure out some of the “precious” why)? I don’t have to be somebody else, fake, or pretend to be loved or to please…

And that reality, which is probably simple for most or obvious to everyone, liberated me in a way I couldn’t expect, in a manner I wasn’t willing to admit I needed any kind of liberation in the first place. I like being Alex, aka Liz, because it’s who I am, with all the emotional weirdness and affectively messed-up elements it involves. I exist as a whole, which gives me the courage to heal what is deeply wounded and to accept what looks broken without much hope for repairs. Nevertheless, after a lifetime of being patched up, I’m being rebuilt here… One loose screw at a time…!

What I also realized afterwards, musing about those ten years, was the fact that I had to come to an unknown foreign land to see strangers welcome me with so much love while I was surrounded by many so-called friends I shared a collective dream with back home, the same individuals ironically calling me brother as long as I provided their free daily lunch… And if it hurts to see the truth, it’s devastating to acknowledge the reality I created myself alone.

That’s why it took me quite a long time to make peace with that situation — not with those people, because I was the only one responsible for letting something initially so humanly beautiful be ultimately turned into a toxic self-serving environment…

There are still a lot of personal unanswered “whys” when I think about that tumultuous season of my voyage, but I’m peaceful now… Grateful for those years even. I guess that’s what acceptance, forgiveness, and letting go create within one’s bitter heart at some point… At least for me it did.

Maybe that newfound serenity is also the reason why there’s been such an increasing distance taking place between me and old acquaintances, a sort of growing silence casting its wide space over the extensive disparity through which we ended up being the different individuals we ultimately became, as if we were obviously all different by design; it’s our defining choices that connect or disconnect us all in many ways… The outcome remains about how willing we are to bridge ourselves over what would be an otherwise incompatible type of kinship. I don’t believe friendship could ever run its course, but I’ve learned to concede that some relationships aren’t always what we want to see them be and are rarely the measure of what we have to deny ourselves to keep them alive, if they ever were. And it’s ok. Sad, maybe… but “ok” nonetheless.

And on that 10th anniversary evening, that’s what I witnessed… Probably more vividly clear than ever before, especially as the contrasting distinctiveness of my past self relics, flickering like worn neon signs remembering the world I used to maintain myself trapped in a lifetime ago, are now barely shadowing, a far remote and anecdotal footnote into the tiny little cracks of darkness trying to survive through the beaming lights of my new adventure, one that got made possible by the very people I was actually celebrating that night and every day since… All reflecting, in their own unicity, a part of the person I decided to be rather than the persona I was hardly able to emulate when I initially drifted to Tangier…

By the end of the evening, a new friend asked me if I believed the best was yet to come for me… My instinctive answer was, as complexly simple as it could be for me to be “simple”, that I had stopped looking for potential upcoming “best” when I first landed here as I began to live what I truly wanted to by being who I was… So there is no best or worst, nor anything in between… Only the present instant and what I decide to make of it.

Life creates life

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: I will share the first details regarding the upcoming Special Fall Tangier Weekend on Wednesday… Don’t miss it!!! Places will be limited! ;)

My last-minute decision to go to North Africa regardless of the fact that I didn’t know anyone nor any references to hold on to happened to be the most defining move I could ever make… My initial 2-month stay eventually turned the profound hopelessness I was losing my battle with into a renewed vision for my life and a refreshed desire to “be”. It changed the course of my whole existence.

That being said, looking back at the last decade, through its invigorating ups and devastated downs, I feel profoundly privileged to be able to say that it’s the friends I had the blessing to make during that initial trip who ultimately gave me the willingness, if not the courage, to keep on fiercely evolving into the person I have been determined to become ever since I first left them to go back and redefine my life, only to have the utmost joy to come back again and again and again… until I eventually rooted myself amongst their precious midst.

This absolutely unexpected part of my actual voyage is another example that no matter where we may end up, our departure, regardless of how difficult the first steps might be, will always be rewarded with liberating transformations and emancipative uplifts. As long as we take a chance, as long as we welcome the streaming flow of experiences designed for us to outgrow our fears, to discover ourselves beyond the limitations of our self-imposed status quo…

And whenever you find it impossible to bear the burden of your reality, keep going… And like I did, you’ll eventually experience the difference between incarnating purposeful inner transitioning motions and perpetually nurturing some stand-still form of sterile agitations. You’ll be able to outline the contrast between undergoing a complete emotional and psychological metamorphosis versus entertaining the conceptual make-believe of a self-remodeling projection. An enfranchising existence is experienced, not distantly fantasized… At least, that’s what I live by now.

10 years ago, I came to Tangier thinking about taking my life away… Instead, the love with which I’ve been received healed me into embracing what became the very first day of my current existence.

Life creates life.

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: I’ll be sharing some details about a very special Tangier get-together I want to invite you all to this fall… Life, life, life!

Following that sort of epiphanic moment, the sensations I experienced were much more related to a sense of whirl dizziness and emotional exhaustion than to any kind of fulfillment and relief, to be honest… Maybe it was due to the fact that it’s been an increasingly painful process or a kind of physical and psychological collapse that suddenly took me over… Or maybe both. Probably both…

Talking with a friend, she assumed I must be stoked that my album was finally done, that I had reached the finish line. I laughed kindly, interjecting that where I am at with the record is actually the starting point of an adventure and that I was absolutely clueless about what may be coming next. I just don’t know… And I’m profoundly glad I don’t, because I would probably be stressed about it, try to define and redefine it in order to keep control over it, or freak out — all at the same time! Better not knowing. At that point it’s healthier for me and probably even more for the people around me as well.

She asked me to describe the record since nobody ever knows what to expect from one expressive project to another, which is the ultimate compliment you can give me as a creator. That simple yet very complex question led to a substantially rich type of conversation. And funny enough, I never mentioned through the whole conversation any musical genre, artistic direction, or even lyrical themes, which, in retrospect, helped me realize that I essentially crafted something that unconsciously embodied, both sonically and affectively, intangible elements reflecting, or foreseeing, the humanization extending towards self-transformation, which may lead to a sort of personal rebirth through some shedding spiritual renaissance. Something felt rather than conceptualized, an inner form of freedom I believe we all aspire to live… At least I do. Obsessively. Yes, you probably couldn’t guess, but I can be a tiny bit intense… once in a while!

We concluded our conversation with her inviting me to send her a written description of what I presently thought the record was, instinctively, without putting too much thought into it, so we could resume our conversation about it in a few months to see how my perception of the album’s nature would have evolved after I started abandoning myself in a communal concert context. I found it was a very interesting, if not incredibly intriguing, idea… So this is the exact transcript of what I sent her in French.

Je crois qu’il s’agit d’un voyage à travers les recoins profonds et sinueux de l’esprit humain, une forme d’immersion dépourvue de repères familiers, nous permettant de nous affranchir totalement de nos liens et de nos attachements affectifs préfabriqués afin de toucher au divin et au sacré, une immersion ancrée dans l’expérience humaine plutôt qu’une projection aseptisée et intellectualisée de ce que pourrait signifier une véritable libération de nos entraves émotionnelles et de nos constructions illusoires de sécurité.

The fairly close English translation would be something like this:

I believe it is a journey through the deep, winding recesses of the human spirit, a form of immersion devoid of familiar reference points, allowing us to break free entirely from our ties and pre-fabricated emotional attachments so as to touch the divine and the sacred, an immersion rooted in human experience rather than a sanitized, intellectualized projection of what true liberation from our affective shackles and illusory constructs of security might mean.

I suppose that, in a more unadorned way to illustrate the album’s journey lying ahead of us, I could say that it’s a stream we’ll all have to dwell in over and over and over again for the experience to turn itself into something meant to be lived rather than a collage of noise forming an entity designed to be circumspect, understood, and entertaining and, therefore, limited and entirely meaningless. (I initially wrote “worthless”, but it was a bit too extreme a statement to say considering the devoted self-engagement that has been invested in the project by so many… but you get the point.)

So that’s my present assumption about something I absolutely have no idea how it will bloom or what it will unfold into. This is the utmost blessed standpoint for me to be in right now, the pinnacle of all pure and innocent perspectives on something much wider than I can figure out... and much greater than I am.

That being said, I’m not only immensely disposed to keep on being moved by it all but also enthusiastically disposed and unsoundly willing to lose and find myself again and again and again in its proposed motion.

Life creates life

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: Jeff, Ben, Miss Isabel, and Sef are only a couple hours away from Tangier as I’m writing those words… It will be special to be reunited all together once again, to start immersing ourselves in the second installment of that blistering and colossal project, meaning that the voyage will keep on widening and deepening itself a whole lot more in the months to come… Before that, you can expect to see me sharing some videos of my upcoming writing sessions pretty soon. ;)

- Tahar Ben Jelloun

It’s strange how my memories are being jolted back to life from one moment to another, in completely random circumstances. It’s as if, since I died and got back, I was experiencing 2 totally different timelines: one that goes most definitely onward through the happiness I decided to cultivate no matter the real state of my health condition and one that goes profoundly backwards as I have to contemplate the prospect of my own status of expected expiration, or at least it’s actually a reminder of such.

Adopting Robert, who’s getting slightly better in his parvovirus fight (we are at day 13 now), was a defying decision for me. Since I saw my journey be massively altered by my heart surgery and the unsettling nightmares that followed, I promised myself to stop making plans altogether and to cultivate what I had left, to avoid engaging in anything involving emotions or that had another further ramification into any sort of distant tomorrow… It’s hard to start something you don’t know you’ll ever finish, let alone a relationship that personally matters and that could potentially create a devastating ripple effect in somebody else’s voyage. I probably just stopped believing in what used to make me who I was, to see myself as an evolving entity… As being myself.

That conceptual subconsciousness for some was quite a vivid reality to me. It’s like your spirit is floating half awake between ethereal dreams and tangible corporeality somehow. You are alive, but you are not really living… At least, I wasn’t, not in any way close to how I used to, anyway. But equally true, I knew that “things” would actually change when I decided they did. That transformation comes with how far and deep I was willing to dive down afterwards… I knew it, but I wasn’t ready until I was. What followed wasn’t simpler nor any easier, but it was mine, which was a major step for me mentally. My body finally started to heal, but my psyche was still in too many pieces to even dare trying to clean it up… Maybe I didn’t need to clean anything up after all… Acceptance is an overused and too often misunderstood word that doesn’t mean much, if anything, and more…

I guess I just stopped inflicting myself with more misery than my denials needed in order to legitimize my overtly confusing conduct, whatever it was or probably wasn’t. I just stopped that torturing cycle and embraced a little more peace of heart, of mind, each day, just like that… Well, kind of just like that… I make it sound magical — it ain’t. But the results are if you want them to, and it led me to clean my “emotional” mess. It eventually and naturally slowed my alcohol intake down… Was I becoming an alcoholic? Maybe. I don’t know, I was too drunk to care, I suppose… I got back to writing, reading, seeing people (yes, I did like the isolation of the pandemic)… I started to care a little more about myself than worrying about disappointing others. Projects and ideas began flowing. Visions and dreams were reenabled. But most importantly, I allowed myself to live. And that fragile little “thing” could be encapsulated by what I told Robert when I adopted him: “We’re going to have the best freaking 15-20-year life ride ahead together!” whereas before, my wish was to make sure I wouldn’t die on Leonard…

So what about Haiti? What’s the connection? There’s none…! Well, there’s obviously one, and it’s not that Morocco played against Haiti in the qualification matches of the recent World Cup. I know it’s far-fetched, but I came into the realization of something I never expected while attempting to ignite a wide measure of my lost memories… When you live — for real — memories come back unexpectedly. That’s the connection. Yes, it could have been 2 introductory sentences to start that text, but where would be the reassuring factor (and fun) for you if it wasn’t to realize just how much more sane you are compared to others (me)? It’s a free empowering therapy for you right here… Don’t you feel better about yourself now? Ok, Haiti now…!

My Potential Alternate Life Story… in Haiti.

I must have been 18 or 19 years old when I decided to do international cooperation social work. I almost went to Sudan and Ethiopia but elected to go to Haiti, as my mentor at the time, who spent more than 25 years in Congo as a youth teacher and community servant, told me he had a contact within his organization that could help me facilitate my integration in a country ravaged by perpetual hopelessness and authoritarian abuses. I was freshly out of violent gangs myself, and while I wasn’t looking to redeem myself, I did want to be part of something positively bigger than all the sufferings I might have inflicted around me over those raging years that came to pass. “Who will I send?” I heard on some boring Sunday church service I attended with my father. It was a rhetorical question since that place never did anything to serve others but themselves (that’s another story), but it created something in my heart. I wondered if I could be something worth “sending”. I soon realized it’s not entirely about the quality of the person you send but about sending someone who wants to be sent in the first place…

“Well, you are the only candidate, Alex, which makes you the best one for the task! Welcome aboard!” sounded good to me. And there I went, but only after learning Creole (which later saved my life) before I got to Port-au-Prince. Good thing my mentor prepared me mentally because I couldn’t have been further from home than there. It was my first time being exposed to “organized” chaos, and I had to immediately compose with codes I didn’t fully understand at the time. I stayed in the capital for 2 days, then headed to Cap-Haïtien, where the trip would take place… or should I say the bad trip (at first).

While people were incredibly sweet, welcoming, and nice, I soon realized there were a lot of individuals who were deeply disillusioned about helping hands coming from abroad. Within my fourth day in the country, while riding a “tap tap” (a sort of public transportation consisting of wooden planks screwed into the box of a very, very old pickup truck), I heard 3 large men telling each other that they would take me aside and beat me to death once I dropped off the vehicle, a serious threat considering the rampant epidemic of ONG members who had started disappearing all over the highlands. Since I didn’t want to be found in a ditch in the middle of nowhere, my streetwise experience came into play. I started to talk to them in Creole, stunning them. I told them why I was there in the first place, to help kids, but also to learn from the different Haitian neighborhoods I would be involved in. “Learn what?” asked the biggest guy of the killing crew. “About faith, hope, and community,” I simply said in my limited creole vocabulary. And so we talked… They did jump out of the tap tap with me but didn’t jump me, and we befriended each other.

I ended up hanging out with them several days a week and later found out they were part of a ruthless and merciless local gang. But I saw them like they probably saw me, and I have never been worried for my security from that moment on. On the contrary, it opened me doors that were tightly shut down to others, and I did indeed learn a whole lot as I visited people, educating them regarding AIDS’ rampant proliferation and debunking the idea that sleeping with a virgin girl would act as some sort of immunity against the disease, resulting in a massive wave of rape and child abuse. I wasn’t there to judge or to moralize anyone — there’s no playbook in the face of desperation. I wanted to offer comfort in science and education, but in a dignifying way, which led them to call me “bon nèg blan an” (the good white guy). In the socio-geopolitical context, it was quite an honor to be called anything close to something “ok”, so that came as an honor for me…

I was residing at a local pastor’s house in the middle of the city. I could have stayed in the church’s countryside estate, which offered some sort of safer environment to visitors, but I wanted to stay with the people. And that decision made that whole 3-month journey a life-changing one. I heard and saw voodoo rituals, helped while a midwife screamed for assistance as she had to hastily intervene with a woman who was losing her child (a baby girl who got named Alex… sweet!), was called as a substitute teacher for the all-age and only class of a village, drove a doctor around, and on, and on, and on. I even learned about the NBA Celtics legacy and 10-year-old March Madness tournaments I would watch with teens on VHS tapes. I taught how to play Ramones songs to outstanding bluesmen who let me borrow their electric guitar one night… Life was hard, no doubt about it, but life was immensely rich.

Then came along Christèle, the youngest daughter of the senior pastor who had started the social and community work I was involved in. He started all that 20 years prior with basically nothing. And like her father before her, who had been sent by an American association to attend Princeton University and came back to serve his community rather than accepting different positions in America, Christèle was coming back home between each semester. She was tough as nails, incredibly brilliant and funny, stunning to the eyes, and even more so as a leader of the community. I don’t think she liked me that much at first, as she kept on saying there was some melancholy behind my greenish-brown eyes (really?!?) but we managed to get along. We would spend much of our days together. I never saw someone being so intentional. She wasn’t preaching some feel-good theoretic make-believes, she knew how to gather people, especially young women, to whom she was dedicating most of her time… I’ve learned a whole lot just looking at her devotional demeanors. She wasn’t only talking, she was THE walk…

At some point we were talking about my future, and she was encouraging me to get transferred to her university. I joked, saying I wasn’t a rich princess for Haiti. She told me she actually had a scholarship and was working full time over there, something she obviously didn’t have to do. For her, “things” aren’t given but worked for. I realized I didn’t have much planned after that actual trip. University… community service… nothing was set. She helped me a lot to focus, to establish what I wanted, what my goals were, what I was looking to accomplish, and, more importantly, what type of person I wanted to be…

And by the end of my Haitian journey, she asked me what I thought about our duo. I joked, asking if she was asking me in marriage, laughing that she would love Canada. She said the joke was on me, considering that my public education wasn’t worth much if anything compared to hers and that she was not interested in teaming up with some white dude who would rather go hide back home than embrace his obvious calling in a community that had already welcomed him. I said she was just an old single woman looking for a young man to do her chores (she was 22 years old). She said I was too young to be of any interest to a real woman (she might have had a point on that one). Our kind argumentative ping pong match must have lasted for a while…

I think, in retrospect, that while we had a significant affection for each other, our respective “callings,” or my lack of certainty regarding mine, were too palpable to envision a potential or eventual Haitian get-together. Even if I seriously thought about going back to Haiti not long after I came back home and would have liked to keep a connection with Christèle afterwards, it was preferable for both of us to maintain our distinctive sight on our individual purposes to avoid affective blurriness and pressuring expectations on each other, especially as I somehow knew that my story’s main destination wouldn’t be on the island, even if its people hold a very special place in my heart… But I seriously considered it at the time.

There are so many parallels I can make with that whole trip in Haiti and what I’m presently experiencing, except that I have a much clearer understanding of who I am, of what truly matters to me, and somewhat of where I’m heading, or at least the direction in which I envision what I’m seeing tomorrow, based on what I’m building now.

Yes, memories come back when you live… for real… unexpectedly… but undeniably.

Life creates life.

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: The seventh and probably last part of my “So What’s Going On, Alex?” series will be titled “My Record is Officially Done… There’s Only One Last Thing to Do.” Since I invited Jeff, Miss Isabel, Ben, and Sef (if I don’t change my mind…! 😉) to join me in Tangier to start working on the next record… Yes, if you managed to read until this point, I’m already starting the production for the second album of my 5 upcoming creative installments. I should share some fragments of those songs with you as the project starts to take shape… that’s called living!!!

The point is, even if I totally understand the large margin of error involved and the delicate reality they have to compose with in regard to managing expectations (I guess it’s even more true when a person like me is involved, I understand that a little better now), it just felt like a bit of a letdown when I heard, “It looks promising” at the clinic this morning, marking Robert’s 9th consultation in 10 days (they enthusiastically encouraged me to take a day off after my first eight visits, the texts… oh, and the calls…!).

I’m obviously grateful about the “it looks promising” over “he might die” (or worse), no question about it. I’ll take it, gladly. So that’s where we are… And quite frankly, even if I would have liked a confirmation that we had conquered his deadly menace, I know we’re not talking about a typical virus here. It’s evolutive and keeps on transforming itself through its own will for a while… It’s nasty. (I can hear some of my closest friends laughing while thinking that it strangely sounds like the description of a “crazy” guy they know… Sooooo not cool! So, so not cool!) Anyway… The good news is that, while the fight continues, Robert looks much better today… As you can witness in this video:

When “Final Mix - 1” turns into “Post Final Mix Additional Production - 6”

I figured I would keep updating you on how the final days before my upcoming album’s master delivery hard deadline are going. I guess I could say “it looks promising”…! Interesting how the same succession of words can be used in all sorts of different situations and have totally different meanings, right?! Ok, nobody will die for a skipped deadline… Well, technically not, but in my case, I wouldn’t be so sure, especially as before having a “hard” (a synonym for “definitive”) deadline, there were a few so-called “deadlines” skipped. So if any family member of my supportive management team is reading this, “No worries, the final version of the record is essentially done.” I swear! (I used to promise; swearing makes it more serious this time!).

That being said, the very intriguing element I always find in the final stage of an expressive art project is the fact that a massive flow of totally new and out-of-the-blue amazing ideas seems to appear at every single “last” step of their completion.

I know, it’s incredible! So who am I to rebuke any of those bright, sparkling pieces of phenomenal genius incubation? As I always said, I’m at the service of the record. I not only have to pay attention to the songs’ surprising late-blooming intent, I also have to make sure each and every one of those sparks will be seriously added in their rightful place in those songs.

Yes, my brain says, “Stop, it’s enough, Alex,” but my brain also often told me in the past, “Just one more tequila, Alex,” so I’d rather follow my heart now! Mornings after are a little heavy on the head (or preoccupying!).

In other words, Ben probably secretly (and not so secretly anymore, he gave me his own hard deadline yesterday… oops!) despises the fact that I am 5 hours ahead of him anytime I come to Tangier. Maybe he doesn’t think it was such a good idea for me to come here to complete the record after all…

This morning, while working on the final lyrical entity for the last stretch of vocals I had to complete on a song, that “spark” of new ideas, not for the lyrics but for the song’s structure, struck me in the form of “YES, YES, YES! That’s it! Awesome!!! Ben will flip out about that spark!!!”

Well, he did flip when I initially started saying, “Brother, what do you think we made this and this and this alteration to the song? I mean, it needs to be done, right?!” It always starts very innocently like that whenever the “spark” happens! And Ben knows his day, along with his health (both mental and physical), will take a completely different form from that moment on…

But as I tell him every time it happens, it’s not me wanting to go back to the production phase when we are essentially done with [insert song title here] that is already titled “Final Mix - 1”, it’s the “spark”…! Blame it all on the “spark”! Don’t hate me, brother, I’m only the messenger here…!!! I’m simply being of service, I have no skin in that perpetual never-ending production game. If anything, I’m the first “victim” of the spark…!!!

All that to say… That song in question has been massively “sparked”… and still is as you are reading this. And again, it looks very promising!

No wonder why my music is considered nu-prog: even the whoooooole process is! And quite frankly, the “spark” is rarely wrong… so… ;)

Bless you, Ben… You are the best!!!

Life creates life!!!

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: The sixth part of my “So What’s Going On, Alex?” series will be titled “World Cup Personal Meaning” — for real this time! Don’t blame me for changing the already-announced subject, it’s the “spark”! Remember, I’m the first one annoyed by all those changes!!! So for my next publication, I’m bringing you to Port-au-Prince and Cap-Haïtien, where I almost settled ages ago, had a marriage proposal, and almost got killed… See, it’s too interesting a subject to be written in a simple few lines… The “spark”, guys, the “spark” ;)

So Robert is holding on. He’s such a good lil pup! Whenever he feels like having just enough energy to roam around the terrace, he’s on an endless discovery quest. He’s really funny. I can already discern his personality… As sweet and gentle as he is, he doesn’t really appreciate being bossed around, and since he has found his voice, he has become very vocal about what he doesn’t like! While he has already understood the 2 warning steps composed of: “aye”, then “AYE” (his reactions are hilarious when the “aye” are being dropped!), it seems pretty obvious that the last element of the limit trifecta, the word “NO” being said in my interventionist motion designed to physically retrieve him from the contentious action he clearly doesn’t want to disengage from represents close to 97% of his main dislikes within the course of a day!

So 2 more days, as parvovirus treatments usually cover a 10-day period, and Robert, against all odds — or at least compared to all the other dogs in Tangier — will be safe… We’re getting there!!!

The Record’s Journey: From Madness To… Insanity

As I’m hastily approaching the record’s final deadline, which is in exactly 5 days, I’m realizing just how much of an intimate voyage it’s been for me to manage to get that close to the completion state of the album. While I knew it would be a painful process, I don’t think I understood just how intense it would be… No wonder each and every person who’s been involved, directly or indirectly, told me it was the most personally challenging experience they ever went through creatively and psychologically, which, for me, is a major compliment… I mean, it is, right?! It is, of course! It is!

The whole record is a wide and extensive emotional journey. I like to see it as a cohesive assemblage of interconnected scenes or moments, ones that could perfectly stand on their own considering the profound layering measures of the album’s soul every song embodies… to such an extent that I initially wanted the entire collage of the record’s sequencing to be a connected montage made of one single “movement”, a unique track lasting more than an hour. I stood by that emotional idea for a while, probably until the midpoint in the production, to everyone’s growing madness…!

The thing is, I identify, or perceive, sounds in colors and shades... therefore, music for me is pretty much like a movie composed of imaged frames unfolding their singular nature in all sorts of different synchronized motion reels... That’s the reason why I initially envisioned the record to be captured in real time without edits, cuts, or post-production stitches, encapsulating the theatrical unity production, where “time, place, and action” are at the forefront of the project, not the structure, meaning there would be no technological safety net but just a raw and ongoing stream of emotional tensions and relief, exactly like my live shows. What a great idea!!! Well, for me it was… Not so much for any of the rational and sane individuals I have the blessing to be surrounded by. “Thank God,” some might say!

In all fairness, Ben, with whom I’ve been working on the album, was full-on in regard to my idea to not only push the creative boundaries but also to entirely eliminate them. The experience was somehow cathartic, for lack of better words, which led me to follow the songs’ trajectory rather than try and fit them into my crazy conceptual approach, to entirely let myself dwell in their particular spirits rather than work against their identity to serve my vision. That’s the ultimate moment when you have to be real with yourself; it’s a crossroads. Are you self-serving your artistic ambition, or are you at the service of the emotion you want to commune with others? My honest answer marked a major shift in the album production. If Ben and I elected to keep my initial mission statement in mind, we let them breathe and grow on their own rather than forcing ourselves into their otherwise organic bloom.

Calling Out!

I quickly realized that a song like “Calling Out!” would have been overlooked had I stubbornly maintained my initial vision, which would have resulted in a great omission on my part and would have been detrimental to the album’s narrative. The song’s unique tone, its very direct delivery, and its sole entity mark a pivotal shift in the record’s emotional transformative dynamic.

The song, by design the shortest one of the record, is about inner awakening. I wanted to reflect on a moment, or moments, where we have to decide to set ourselves free from the self-imposed status quo product we have become or to break the cycle of our self-preservation entirely.

Interestingly, it’s also the song that gave Ben and me the greatest challenge on the record. We did countless mixes: I wasn’t feeling it, or I wasn’t sure of arrangements. At some point I started to question the structure. We went back to the writing sessions. I had the rhythm section changed, again, again, and over again. It was hard for me to explain what I wanted to hear, as I wanted to feel it first. And in order to feel it, I had to listen to the song. So it was quite an adventure, to say the least. At the end of the process, Ben stopped naming the version with the words “final mix” like he had started doing to only refer to them as “version XYZ”.

We must have probably gone over the alphabet of “XYZ” 2 or 3 times before I said, “Yes, YES!!!! That’s exactly it!!!” Ben replied, “Hmm… It sounds like one of the first versions we did, no?” “No, not at all, listen to that and that!!! No, no, no, not at all!!!” The “that and that” in question were very minor elements in the song, so I guess, in a way, it was somehow familiarly close to one of the first versions we had done…! But it wasn’t the same. “The devil is in the details, Ben,” I told him. He answered, “Is that the reason I had to experience hell over and over again in the last few days?” “Well, brother, sometimes we do have to reach our limits to know we have to push them all up and on, and on, and on, to touch what can’t be seen.” “Happy you touched it, Alex.” “Me too, Ben, I‘m happy you were willing to follow me that deep.” It’s not really the conversation we had, but it would have been hilarious — and it’s not all that far from reality! I guess we both knew when the song was “it”… and so different from any of the initial versions!

Life creates life.

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: The fifth part of my “So What’s Going On, Alex?” series will be titled “World Cup Personal Meaning”. If you are a football fan, don’t get too excited, it won’t exactly be about the sport itself… and if you don’t like the sport, well, you will find my stories about my time living in Haiti very “surprising”.

Some more updates from Tangier

I’m writing to you today with my little pup Robert sleeping on my lap. I am sitting on my home’s rooftop terrace, the wind is refreshing, and the sun overseeing the bright blue sky is as generous as the dreamful clear view spectacle it offers from the coast of Spain, a coast that seemed to be somehow more reachable by any intentional arm stretch this morning. If it weren’t for the birds singing, silence would turn the whole scene into a Polaroid picture of some sorts… It’s quiet, calm, serene.

This peaceful moment is probably more significant than any other ones for me, as yesterday afternoon, seeing Robert not being his playful self, I rushed him to the vet, as I suspected it wasn’t normal for him to be so quiet. I was then informed that Robert has the life-threatening parvovirus. No need to say I am devastated. The vet’s office probably never saw a guy in tears turning from a worried pup daddy to a pretty directing “commander in chief”.

Good thing they already knew me, as they are the ones who assisted us in saving Louna’s life at the beginning of last year. It was clear from the second the diagnostic dropped that Robert would become everyone’s priority. 5 minutes after, I had everyone’s personal cell phone to contact in case there was an emergency, even the poor man who told me: “But I’m only cleaning here...” Well, you have a slight connection to the clinic, so you are part of Robert’s saving operation crew. It must have been “funny” for the whole team to see me, the guy who’s the furthest from being qualified in any possible way, to try and conduct the clinic on the only mission that mattered to me. The owner of the clinic put his hand on my shoulder before saying, “Don’t worry, we are here for you both. You’ve got the most important role here, and it’s to look after Robert. We’ll take care of the rest.” “Of course, of course,” I answered after realizing that I was, oh surprise, so intensely engaged in Robert’s fight…!

The thing is, after what happened to MacKaye, whom I suspected was ill regardless of the normal tests (and we did a LOT) and results showing nothing, I am much more responsive and directive with Robert, which in retrospect must have saved Louna’s life as well. I still believe in my heart that MacKaye could have been saved if I would have pressed the issue to conduct much deeper blood and cell tests much sooner than I did, especially as I knew him well enough to know there was something bad going on… and there was, as he had a very rare case of hepatosplenic T-cell lymphoma.

When I heard about the nature of his cancer, my whole world collapsed. The next 6 months of chemotherapy and new experimental treatments conducted, with an incredible dedication from all the doctors of the Virginia Tech Animal Cancer Care and Research Center, were probably the most emotionally tearing-down experience of my life… So this time, I wouldn’t settle with “general” tests on Robert. And kept on repeating to myself, “He will kick that virulent virus and live… for a long, long time!!!” And I was relieved that everyone understood why I was so intense… “That pup wasn’t given to me to die in my care. No freaking way!!!”

No need to say that the last couple of nights were intense. I didn’t sleep much, if at all. Robert slept in my hand. Yes, he is that small. And each of our “bathroom” trips felt like going to the battlefield. It was ugly in every possible way, but Robert showed me it wouldn’t be my fight alone, as he carried on each night till dawn, his eyes were still filled with puppy innocence, and his general demeanor, if tired and exhausted from battling the virus, was one of a tiny little measure of life fully determined to conquer that inner enemy… YES!!! That’s the spirit, boy!!!!

Coming over to the terrace, which has been our routine ever since we adopted each other, a week already, he walked around as he used to do, sat in front of me to be picked up, lay down on my legs, and gently licked my hand as I was comforting him. He took the intense medication of his anti-virus protocol in a good spirit and looked at me as if he were saying, “Don’t worry, we’ll get through this.” I know we will. So we’re starting day 4… The first 5 are the most crucial ones, and the whole fight is 10 and beyond.

(Another famous Robert said Boys Don’t Cry)

It’s truly one instant at the time. I have to constantly monitor him, which is fine by me, as I know it will only tighten our already unique connection together. Robert has clearly found the craziest person to conduct the whole healing operation with him.

As for the clinic, Robert and I are waiting every single morning in front of the door before opening hour, after I sent them pictures throughout the night and called 3-4 times since the moment we got back home to validate and monitor ALLLL the details, from new sets of pictures to his general condition, his body temperature, and on, and on, and on, and also to let them know that if need be, we’d be there in a few minutes for them to manage any possible preoccupation. If they thought I was intense when I rescued Louna, they’ve already seen another level of “insanity” with Robert’s case. Gladly, they are true animal lovers, or else they would probably think I’m crazy. Well, they probably think I am already, but there are far worse reasons to be, right!?!

So, What About The Music Samples Promised!?!

Alright, so this is not really the Substack follow-up publication I intended to share with you, but you know by now that I live in the present tense, and it couldn’t be more “now”of my ongoing reality than this post. That being said, while I will update you on Robert’s condition as it goes, I’m also getting fairly close to the deadline for submitting my album’s final master as well and still have substantial things to do.

Just like I told Ben, who’s presently mixing the songs I told him were ready, we’ll work until the very, very, very end… Not that it came as a surprise, he’s used to it. I’m not only crazy and intense when it comes to my pups, my art is also a subject of my beautiful and meaningful insanity…! So along with Robert, keep Ben in your positive thoughts, he needs it!

As a token of my love and to stay true to my words, here’s a little snippet of a song you’ve never heard before ;)

This is me calling out

Life creates life.

Your brother and friend,

Alex

PS: For the fourth part of my “So What’s Going On, Alex?” series, titled “What About Music Now? ”, I will share about that specific new song as well as the ongoing album process… Your patience will be rewarded ;)

Some more updates from Tangier

I shared about my father’s passing anniversary in my previous publication… If it was significant for me to do so, I purposely omitted a few meaningful details as well, which kind of directed important decisions I would make and oriented my mindset in quite an unexpected trajectory, one I couldn’t foresee and most definitely didn’t see coming but that totally makes sense looking into it now…

I guess it all started when my mom sent me an SMS (yes, an SMS. As I told you before, I’m greatly inadequate (for lack of more accurate terms) when it comes to intimate relationships. I’m a sloooooooow work in progress. At least, I like to believe so!) Anyway. My mom sent me an SMS sharing the news that she had found a sort of condo and that she was happy and ready to move on to the next chapter of her life since my father’s passing. I was genuinely proud of her, and I have always been highly supportive and encouraging her to keep on building herself following the passing of the person she knew was her soulmate, but the news sort of hit me later on… It represented a major step forward in an upcoming season of self-affirmation and ongoing self-discovery for my mom. This important decision was for her to make, but it implied the end of something I wasn’t prepared for somehow, as that house, if it’s been an upmost blessing for my parents, was the last tangible reminiscence of my father’s presence.

My parents fought all their lives to offer me the best shot I could have at defining the life I wanted to experience. Their struggles were innumerable, but so was their determination to outgrow the little odds they had to get out of the financial survival cycle they’d been trying to deal with for as far as I can remember. They finally did, with unbelievable resilience and hard, hard work… And while I had never lived in that house, as I was building my own adventure for a while at that point, I knew what it meant for both of them. My father was a proud person. He was made in the fabric of the old world, if you like. He never said much, worked his butt off, but had a vision: to offer my mom what he suffered from not being able to give her a home for most of their marriage. He finally did. And renovated the whole place himself, based not only on the handy handyman he taught himself to be but most definitely as the artist he was… My father was a wood sculptor and painter.

So that condo news was a bit of a shock. Not a surprise, as my mom had been pretty vocal about it for a while… But still, for me it meant that the house would go on the market and everything it was would go away with it… Weird how I won’t care one bit about the tangible aspect of most things but will be overtly affected by elements that are purely symbolic. You call me a perplexing romantic made of a million paradoxes, and I don’t know if it will start to cut it… I was emotionally ambivalent about the whole situation and figured that if I could have stalled the process in order to figure out if I wanted to keep the house, which would have been complete nonsense, but it wouldn’t have been the first nor the last time I’d make a completely irrational move purely based on affective metrics. Oh well… I couldn’t see many logical reasons to keep the house and to maintain some sort of Foster’s museum… It would have been as obviously ridiculous as it would be totally disrespectful to my mom’s own grieving process — and mostly creepy anyway.

So the house went on sale, and two or three days after, it was sold. I was happy for my mom. She went all the way with it. And I was equally relieved that she wouldn’t have to drag the whole thing for a while, risking doubting herself or feeling guilty for “moving on” when she was actually healthily and positively transitioning.

Where am I going with that? I’m getting there, don’t worry, it all makes sense. Three days ago, on my father’s passing day, my mom told me she had put aside a ton of things for me: souvenirs, paintings, different art elements my father liked, etc, etc, and that they would be perfect for my home in Virginia. Yes, the place being rebuilt that I call home. So a moving truck went in, and the whole shebang that goes with it. It felt so strange to me… For no particular reason, as I was grateful she did that for me…

I guess what struck me the most is when she said, “You were raised to be independent, a citizen of the world, one who knows he can accomplish everything he wants if he truly invests himself into it, but I have come to realize that you’ve been looking to identify where your personal roots were all your life; the whole point of love is for you to decide where to settle, free from your upbringing and your desire to give some sense to what used to be your starting point and the runway that follows. Stop looking back, embrace life, and follow your instinct,” all that said in her much more colorful manner. Yes, that’s my mom; she’s quite an extraordinary character and badass as well!

Falling in Love… Again.

That conversation reverberated deeply within me. Good thing I’m still mostly grounded while my strained ankle heals… It gives me allllll the time I need to think… Which is not always a good thing, but in that particular case, it was.

So I was communicating with Ben, the unsung hero of my ongoing recording process (nope, it’s not totally wrapped yet!) as we were working on the mix of what would probably be my next single, driving Ben crazy with micro-changes and the high importance of layers and layers of sounds no one will really hear, and I received an SMS from Sandra, Miss Isabel’s sister, the manager of La Maison de Tanger. “Look at what was left for you in front of the hotel last night.” I didn’t look right away, as I was so deeply engaged in the song’s mix (having just told Ben I wanted to change the whole rhythm section on one of the song’s parts, meaning it’s not called mixing anymore but going back to production. I’ll explain in an upcoming publication.) So many hours after, Sandra sent me another SMS saying, “Have you seen? Look. Do it now!” Sandra being a pure Cartesian person, her insistent enthusiasm led me to check it out…

It happened that what has been left for me was a tiny little puppy. “No, no, no,” I told myself as I refrained from answering Sandra’s message, knowing I would ask her questions. “NO!” I went back to keep on torturing Ben instead, who re-recorded drums and had Jeff rush in to re-record bass. Super stoked that the result was “it”, my answer was, “I knew it! Amazing job, brother!” followed by “Let’s move on to the other changes I want to hear.” Hopefully Ben is never reluctant to keep on trying to highlight my creative vision even if it means having to scrap everything we worked so hard to give life to and to get back to my drawing board… Go, go, go!!!

That being said, I just couldn’t stop thinking about the puppy. “No. No, no, no. You already adopted Louna 18 months ago. NO!” but I answered Sandra, hoping that my text would sound distant and uninvolved despite reading like this: “He’s very cute, but what’s the story behind all of this, and what have you done with him?” Of course…!

So as for the story: Guests found the pup in front of the door the night prior and looked around to find no one. Thinking the owner would come pick him up overnight, they got back inside. It’s late and everything is closed, so let’s wait until tomorrow to do anything. Morning came, the pup was still there, right in front of the door. The context became clear for everyone: I’m well known for taking care of street dogs in the neighborhood as I regularly bring sick or injured dogs to the vet and make sure they receive the proper care they need. “Let’s bring that puppy to Alex’s hotel, he’ll get things going from there…” They knew I would… and I did!

The thing is, because of my absence of reactions to Sandra’s message, the guests who found him decided to bring him to a nearby shelter. “Good call,” I thought, hoping to convince myself that it was the end of that very touching episode. But then I called Sandra. Those who know me understand what “Alex calling” means… It’s rare enough to freak people out when I do. I asked Sandra questions, but she didn’t know much. I called her back less than an hour after… “Any news on the puppy’s condition?” Of course, no one would ever call to update the status on a street dog they’ve been asked to care for… There are so many.

Sandra: “No, no news, it should be alright…”

Then I insisted she call the shelter. She did, but the secretary didn’t know anything about that specific puppy.

Alex: “What did she say?”

Sandra: “She told me the vet is in surgery right now.”

Alex: “What? Don’t tell me they will put him to sleep?”

Sandra: “Of course not, Alex, you should know how many dogs they have to take care of. You are the one who has probably sent half of them there.”

Alex: “I know… but I’m asking specifically about THAT puppy.”

Sandra: “I don’t know.”

Alex: “Can’t you go to the shelter and check for yourself?”

Sandra: “I would like to, but I’m working right now.”

Alex: “Ok, pick me up in 5 minutes, I’ll go check it out.”

Sandra: “Alex? Hello? Alex…?”

5 minutes later I was limping to the car, and we were at the shelter… No sign of the puppy. I looked everywhere, asked the volunteers. An elderly lady told me there were many puppies I could look at. I answered that I wasn’t there to adopt a puppy but to look for a specific one. Sandra showed her the pictures. “Oh, he looks like a good-spirited puppy, you have a good heart, he will be a good dog for you.” Sandra insisted we were only there to make sure the pup was ok. The woman smiled at me. We waited for the vet who finally came out of the surgery room about 45 minutes later. He was happy to see me, even if a little confused as to why I hadn’t brought any new resident for him to take care of this time.

Vet: “What a great surprise, Alex. How can I help you?”

Alex: “Guests from my hotel brought a little puppy this morning. Is he ok?”

Vet: “A puppy?”

Sandra, who got caught in the turmoil, showed some pictures.

Vet: “Oh, yes, he’s in quarantine. I gave him some basic treatments to make sure he would be ok.”

Alex: “Great, can I see him?”

Vet: “Of course. Why do you look worried?”

Alex: “I just want to make sure he’s alright. Strangers left him for me at the hotel, so I was wondering…”

The vet went in a room and brought the puppy, who was confused and crying until he was in my hands.

Vet: “Oh, he stopped crying; he already loves you!”

Sandra: “Alex… !!!”

Vet: “Alex… ???”

Sandra: “Alex… You told me… no!!!”

Vet: “Alex… looks like someone is already in love with you!”

The pup had his tiny little head in my neck, peacefully resting.

Sandra: “Ok, we are happy he is doing good.”

Alex: “Can you complete his basic treatments now?”

Vet: “Of course…

Alex: “Great, he’s coming with me!”

Sandra: “Alex…!!!”

Vet: “I’m happy. Do you know why people give away black-colored animals?”

Alex: “I guess… But go ahead…”

Vet: “It’s still part of the folklore and culture that a black-colored animal brings bad luck to the household.”

Alex: “That’s what I figured… So those animals are not only abandoned, but they never get adopted, right!?!”

Vet: “Right… So you saved his life. You adopted each other… That’s a good thing for you both, Alex.”

Alex: “Thank you.”

Vet: “Sometimes it’s destiny; we don’t know why, but it’s been brought to you.”

Alex: “Alright, let’s go!”

Vet: “You took the right decision, Alex.”

Alex: “YES!!!”

Back in the car, Sandra looked at us both and said, “Really, Alex? Really? I’m not worried for him but for you. You can’t adopt every single dog.” “I know, I know, but he’s not “every” dog.” I explained the circumstances of my father’s passing anniversay, their house being sold, the conversation with my mom… I believe it was meant to be. As she looked at the pup sleeping in my arms, she asked me what was next. “Let’s go buy everything we need and stop by Louna’s vet to start the vaccines and the whole process.” Sandra smiled, thinking I was most definitely the craziest person she had ever met — as if it was a sudden reflection on her part. But at the same time, as I told her, she was the one to send me pictures, so she should have known that I would adopt the pup brought to my door… She laughed and said, “Yes, I knew, but after MacKaye’s tragic departure, I wanted to make sure it was the right timing, that you were ready for him…” With tears in my eyes, I answered: “Mac will forever be my beloved pup, the one and only, but I do have a special love in my heart to give now… to give him,” while looking at that 1 kilo made of pure innocence, sweetness, and affections…

Who is he?

He’s a baby boy, 4-6 weeks, probably left for me the second he was off his mother’s feeding care. His health is perfect, contrary to Louna who had been left for dead in a park before I picked her up. He is most definitely coming from a good environment, but his black color made him almost impossible to be given away, to our great blessing. So like my pups before, I named him in honor of one of my musical influences. MacKaye was for hardcore legend Ian MacKaye (Minor Threat, Fugazi, and so many others), Leonard was for Montreal’s poet Leonard Cohen, while Louna (whom we believe was a boy since it was almost impossible for us to determine the sex as she was too rachitic to figure it out) was named after Lou Reed. And they all perfectly embodied their names. I mean… Really!

Therefore, looking at him, at his attitude and character, his story, his color and all, I decided to name him “Robert” for The Cure’s leader, Robert Smith, a goth-looking lover boy, a so perfectly fitting name that when I called my best friend Stephanie, with whom I adopted Mac and Leo, she said, “I know what you called him: Robert!” I laughed… She knows me — and it’s totally him!

Life creates life.

Your brother and friend

Alex

PS: The third part of my “So What’s Going On, Alex” series is titled “Hear My New Single”. Yes, that specific title is totally intended to be clickbait. ;)

Some more updates from Tangier

Speaking of being a little singular, here are a few things I experienced and reflected on this last week. There’s so much going on for someone who still hasn’t found full mobility in his ankle (hello patience, this is frustration calling…!), so I decided to do a few-part series to get you all in the loop… As my manager and precious friend Jennie would say, “There’s never a boring day with you, Alex!”… There certainly isn’t!

My Father’s Passing Anniversary

July 8th marked the day of my father’s passing. I’m not counting the number of years it’s been, as I don’t want him and his departure to remain a fixture of the past, especially as I miss him every day. Sadly, or shamefully, much more now than I ever did when he was alive and well. The irony of this admission is quite difficult to fathom sometimes — most of the time, should I say.

Weirdly, a very dear friend of mine sent me a message saying:

“I don’t know what significance July 8th, the day your father passed away, holds for you now, but I just wanted to let you know that my thoughts are with you. ;) Have a good day. xxx”

I didn’t make anything of it at first, but it came back to me a few hours after while I was reflecting on the place my father actually holds in my every “now”… “How weird of a message it is,” I initially thought. It was so distant and remote from who I am. It wasn’t a big deal since I’m usually pretty discreet about the deepest elements of my affective intimacy, and my father’s topic is one of the most personal matters I don’t really want to address with others… Not because it’s too painful — even if it is — but mainly because, living in a community for so long, I rarely, if ever, managed to keep any parts of my heart away from the collective spirit I cultivated, and my parents were often used and manipulated by the not-so-nice individuals I had welcomed in my life over the years…

My regrets go both ways. On one side, I’m profoundly sorry that I allowed that to happen, that I haven’t protected them in any way. And on the other side, when it was too late to do so, my “solution” to prevent them from any further abuse was to cut my parents’ circle off from my life, while I should have pruned my own entourage instead. That’s a deep and sorrowful regret I bear on my soul every single time I think about my father… And still, I have to make peace with it all. It ain’t easy, or maybe I’m not ready, or maybe I just don’t want to… I used to hate those former “friends” for that, but they don’t have anything to do with this all… That’s why it’s much harder to forgive myself i supposed…

Another friend wrote to me:

“I know July 8th is a very emotional day for you, brother, but one thing for sure, if it might bring solace to your broken heart, your father has always been proud of you and would be even more now witnessing the person you decide to be on a daily basis. Keep shining, I love you, man.”

I knew he always loved me regardless of the drastic and hardly understandable distance I created between us, as much as I have always known that he was proud of me regardless of the fact that he was significantly puzzled by my lifestyle, my relentlessness to maintain certain toxic persons in my life, and my acceptance of those people’s abuses over and over… He voiced himself countless times, pretty much like old friends who saw me fade away in that sourly cult-like and emotionally unhealthy community it was morphing into. He trusted I would manage to find my way back to the light and constantly reminded me he was there to unjudgmentally welcome me whenever I needed or when I would be ready to emancipate myself from that anti-anxiolytic environment. He died at the moment I realized my change of scenery was overdue — or so I want to believe. It’s actually his passing that led me to stop, face the self-imposed misery I maintained myself in, and ponder if I was truly willing to make the corresponding changes that would eventually lead to my personal transformation. And here I am now… Free.

That being said, if the conceptual idea and spiritual nature of freedom are free, there’s always a price to pay or a personal token of some sort that seems to be involved in the process. Mine, regarding my father’s departure, is most definitely the excruciating pain that his absence keeps on feeding within me, a pain reflected by the silence that his passing created in my heart. The void left by his absence is becoming heavier and heavier each and every time I spontaneously talk to myself as if he were “there” listening to me or when I find myself thinking, “Wouldn’t my father be overwhelmingly amazed by such and such?” There are just so many things I would like to share with him, to experience along his side, and to look at the massive 1.94-meter and 104-kilo monument of a dude he was whenever he would be amazed by a new father-son adventure… That’s what mostly hurts every day.

All in all, to answer the question regarding how significant July 8th is for me, it is in the sense of a defining marker in my life. Like the day I opened my eyes following my heart surgery, my pup MacKaye’s passing, and a few other soul-wrenching events that are connecting the forever-growing thread of my yearly determination to grow and outgrow. And, as painful as they all are to me, I’m nonetheless grateful for each and every one of those thread connectors… At least I’m learning to be every single day, as they are part of the fabric of the person I decide to be now.

If you miss someone, one that can still be reached, or if you feel like having to forgive or be forgiven to keep on emancipating yourself, and if it’s emotionally healthy and safe to do so, I hope that you’ll be able to find to rekindle with those people and, most of all, that you will be able to find your peace in your reflecting process, whatever it is that kept you from trying or might be necessary to maintain distance.

Life creates life.

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: The second part of my “So What’s Going On, Alex?” series is titled “I Found Love Again”… I guess it says it all ;)

Some more updates from Tangier

It was good to have Jeff with me in Tangier for the last 2 weeks and to get in a different relational motion. The last 18 months — or 36, I tend to lose count — have been somehow tense between us, which is an incredibly rare, if not nonexistent, occurrence in our 25 years of friendship. Being entrepreneurs wears you down in ways you can’t truly define or fully anticipate… And in our particular case, having a community/family-driven business ethos adds quite an additional toll to the whole affair as responsibilities and the high level of stress that goes along with it get easily tangled with much more emotional extent. You wish everyone would care as deeply about the venture as you do, get as involved and engaged as you are, and personally invest themselves as much as you dedicate yourself to the greater good… well, if only it were that easy… It ain’t, far from it, and tragedy always hits relationally. The line between friendship and accountability is all too often blurry, variable at best. But still, you have to show up and grind your day. We aren’t different from anyone else in that respect.

So put that in the context of being invited (in the intensely required aspect of the word “invitation”) to completely immerse yourself in one of the highest-demanding self-alienating manners to get inside the “all or nothing” requirement of your best friend’s creative endeavors, and tension can rise quickly. And like it or not, once the motion is on, everybody knows I won’t have the slightest tolerance or sympathy for anyone having to deal with some emergencies created by someone’s chaos in whatever departments we oversee.

It usually goes something like, “Go manage our “friends” and come back when you’ll be disposed and willing to get your heart and soul in the furnace of what I’m presently sculpting through the invisible.” It’s harsh, if not unfair, but I don’t mix mundane with divine, at least not anymore, I don’t. If our companions don’t get what’s going on, bench them or don’t come back to the studio until you have dealt with them. It’s as simple as that. There’s absolutely no compromise for me when it comes to creation, otherwise everything is stained with other people’s selfishness, and I don’t travesty art with whomever’s nonsense masquerade.

That said, what profoundly hurts me is knowing all too well that Jeff is the one, if not the only one, being constantly deprived of his creative “calling” over other individuals’ lack of love (I was tempted to phrase it in a more direct fashion, but I pride myself in keeping my Substacks all-age). He knows, I know, we all do. At least some of us do. And as hurtful as it is, once you get through the studio door, it’s not art first, it’s A.R.T., Asceticism-Rebirth-Transcendence. (Yes, I just made that up, but it’s fairly close to what I’m trying to illustrate here!) In other words, everything unrelated to the exploration of the invisible needs to be left out, and if you can’t, for all the right or wrong reasons, you have to respect the painful process of what’s being delved into and protect its fragile harmony from your own worries and responsibilities. It’s not easy, and it’s defined not to be.

Welcome to the Alex Henry Foster spiritual journey, where inner “suffering” awaits through a painful voyage of self-emotional emancipative deprivation, and no promise to experience any sort of potential elevating epiphanic revelations is made, but where you’ll surely be entirely transformed if you are willing to be.

Note: Bystanders and sidekick passengers are most definitely encouraged to refrain from partaking in this “no one is coming back the same” transubstantiating expedition in order to avoid any unnecessary distress, torment, and despondency…

No wonder any of my attempts to involve additional musicians in the Long Shadows or to entice other artists to collaborate with me have been somehow interestingly met with some degree of “bewilderment” from most of my peers so far! Ok, it’s not that bad, let’s settle for the word “perplexity”. I can almost hear them talking to themselves: “Ok, so Alex is really that strange; it’s not a public persona… Interestingly puzzling!”

Anyway, Jeff’s passage, even if too short of a trip, was great, if not greatly necessary. It’s capital to remember who we are to each other, and to do so, we need to allow ourselves to simply be Jeff and Alex, the individuals, the best friends, the brothers. That stands much higher than the entrepreneurs (and too often “kindergarten supervisors”), and Tangier has become the sole place where it is possible for us to get back to the foundational cornerstone of our relationship.

Our friends here see us for who we are, not for the results of what we do or might represent, or whatever. We are the two beloved freaks who like to share a significant moment with others, who are a good laugh, as much as they are eager to discover what’s unknown and to commune with what can only be unfolded by giving value to those around, which I believe is the reason why, on every opportunity we have to come here, we end up significantly revitalized.

Therefore, reconnecting on that intimate level always brought our relationship to a new level. It kind of recenters us on what matters, resettling what ain’t important to its right place while leading us to refocus ourselves towards our visions and dreams. Ultimately, it is what manages to define and redefine both of these things each and every time we get together, which is an incredible benediction, to say the least.

Life creates life.

Your friend and brother,

Alex

This Is the End Part the Title Refers To

Would any of you be interested in gathering for a weekend in Tangier to commune with me and the band for a few concerts and to attend a live “Open Conversation” while discovering the city? Would mid-November be a good time? I’m just asking…hypothetically speaking, of course! ;)

In fact, it’s even more of an unbelievable type of incident, as I’m probably the only one to whom it might have happened. Picture this: I’m walking with a friend, enthusiastically talking about my upcoming projects, how happy (and relieved) I am to finally have caught a break health-wise, excited to feel like my old self but in a rejuvenated version, and on, and on, and on. The sky was bright, the wind was good, and the sun was just warm enough to enjoy what appeared to be a rare peaceful day when, all of a sudden, my foot got stuck in a tiny square hole (one designed for a sign pole or something). My happy-go-lucky fast-motion pace combined with the immediate immobility of my foot being trapped in what looked like a ridiculously narrow empty spot of concrete on the otherwise significantly large boardwalk made sure gravity did the rest. I heavily fell on the ground, severely straining my ankle (yes, the same one I messed up from jumping off a festival stage in Poland), and badly hurt my wrist trying to avoid smashing my face on the ground — while banging my head on a car parked right beside. Epic!!!

After waking up from what clearly looked like a flash knockout (another one to add to my already extensive list of blackouts). I found myself at the hospital, where I was treated with a whole lot of care and benevolence. My concern was to be broken in several places, and I jokingly told the doc I didn’t have time for any substantial physical catastrophe, nor for the dramatic nightmare it would subsequently generate… So after a few scans, painkillers, and a good laugh with everyone saying I should wear running shoes next time (let’s just say that my overly shining bright orange brothel creepers kicks weren’t discreet enough to be exonerated from the whole situation). “We can say it’s a fashion faux pas,” I told my fellow emergency room visitors. I’m never short of a funny punch line, so there’s at least that, I told myself…!

What is always fascinating for me on any occasion I have to be scanned by different doctors is their surprised reaction. I have so many old injuries that it seems to be quite puzzling to anyone looking at my X-rays.

Doc: “Oh, I can see that you had several major interventions and substantial prior damages to your body.”
Me: “We can say that, yes.”
Doc: “It’s fascinating…”
Me: “Really…”
Doc: “Were you in a major car accident of any sort?”
Me: “No…”
Doc: “Interesting...”
Me: “Really?”
Doc: “Are you sure you were never in a vehicle accident?”
Me: “I’m sure, yes.”
Doc: “Your x-rays say otherwise.”
Me: “I’m still pretty sure…”
Doc: “Look here, both ankles have multiple severe strains.”
Me: “Baseball.”
Doc: “And two broken toes.”
Me: “Deck hockey.”
Doc: “Your left wrist has been broken.”
Me: “Skateboard.”
Doc: “Both hands indicate multiple broken fingers.”
Me: “High school fights.”
Doc: “Right knee indicates signs of degradation and strains.”
Me: “Got smashed by a case while touring.”
Doc: “You have a slumped shoulder that seems to have been dislocated and wrongly reconnected.”
Me: “Snowboard.”
Doc: “You fractured your jaw… and it’s not properly realigned.”
Me: “Got hit full force by a bass neck on stage.”
Doc: “Your sternum is maintained with braided stainless steel wires.”
Me: “Open heart surgery.”
Doc: “Fascinating…”
Me: “Really…”
Doc: “Ok, here are painkillers for your strain. Wrap your ankle and avoid putting pressure on it. Same for the wrist.”
Me: “That’s it? Why the whole inquiry about my broken body’s pedigree then?”
Doc: “Pure personal curiosity. It’s fascinating.”
Me: “Really…”
Doc: “Yes…! You’re good to go now!”
Me: “Wow, you are right… It’s quite fascinating!”
Doc: “Get some rest, I’ll see you next week.”
Me: “ok.”
Doc: “Oh, and Alex, I would be more careful if I were you.”
Me: “No kidding…”
Doc: “I’m not kidding… You are very banged up.”
Me: “Ahhhh… I didn’t know. Thank you for your medical expertise…”

Leaving, I figured I got lucky he didn’t ask about all the meds I need to take every day, he would have thought I was a traveling pharmacy or a heart medicine trafficker! “Want some blood pressure pills, anyone?”

Anyway, so here I am: grounded, once again. So much for being able to go around the city and dwell in its unique vibe. All in all, it could have been much worse, and I could have been in a less inspiring place than my home as well. It’s not that bad: I managed to grab a book and read a little, which, in my case, is a major win. My insomnia was fulfilled by the ongoing FIFA World Cup, some Netflix series (I really liked Harlan Coben’s book adaptation I Will Find You), old music documentaries, and different cultural reads on historical Tangier (I so love that city).

That being said, I wanted to thank you for the kind and excited welcome you so vividly expressed following the release of my new single Springtime and its official videoclip. I know you have a ton of questions, which is wonderful, as I could probably double down on everything there is to talk about. And this is exactly what I will do via an Open Conversation with Jeff, followed by a live Q&A. I initially thought about doing so while walking in the old part of Tangier, but I figured out that, considering my present set of unfortunate circumstances (and their limitative implications), being seated will be just fine!

Make sure to send me your questions, comments, and inquiries about the song, the lyrics, the video, its inspirational context, and its history… It’s quite an amazing start of an exceptional journey ahead!!!

Life creates life.

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: As a little piece of beloved advice, looking at where you put your feet into while you are walking/running somewhere will never be out of fashion, whatever shoes you are sporting. My broken body agrees (in a fascinating manner…!)

I’ve been feeling in a sort of transcending stream lately, letting my mind navigate through all the different seasons of my life somehow, as if I were traveling deep within to make peace with the countless measures of blurs I’ve been trying to reappropriate after the severe microembolism I endured during my heart surgery. It’s an attempt to piece back my journey, but a desire to spark my memory back, to get some sense of self, of clarity. It’s an endless cycle for me, even if I know that, as dedicated and engaged as I might be, the damage is done, no matter how hard I would like to forcefully hijack some of the pages from my rolodex of souvenirs that have been so violently ripped away from me.

I guess the inherent impact that has been ravaging me profoundly has more to do with my psyche being presently rewiring than with the accessory fact that I have to accept my condition and therefore need to let go of those significant elements, candescent remnants — from faces, places, instants, sensations, up to everything else I’ve lost and would so dearly love to hang onto once in a while, if only for a second or two when I close my eyes. And if the blurs remain the missing chapters of a biographical book that rarely seems to make sense to me anymore, I’ve learned to appreciate the utmost blessing that comes with the possibility that I now have to reinvent myself, avoiding, by doing so, losing myself in the margins of who I once was or finding myself stuck in-between the multiple streams of my existence, while seeking to fill the blanks of a carnet de voyage that wasn’t meant to be revisited in the first place, let alone to be clanged when comes the time to molt…

That’s what my upcoming single, Springtime, to be released in only a few days (June 17th), reflects on. It’s a yearning sentiment for birth and rebirth in a context that sees hope as a brutal necessity to become the renewed vision we have to nurture in the face of desperation. There are several layers of emotional awareness… Self-transformation isn’t possible without any spiritual departure, nor a renaissance without passing. What I convey in those different layers is the implication of those multiple revivification passages, reason why the images are numerous, I suppose… The song’s catalyst is the ongoing motion of life as a whole rather than the aspiration we might have to unravel its ultimate destination’s mystery. Springtime is an immutable state in which beauty is born from fracture rather than perfection… It’s the fragile beauty of new morning hopes, one that resides in a pure personal abandonment.

I’ll have the opportunity to share a whole lot more about the song in the upcoming weeks, but I wanted to give you the inceptive insights that led me to incarnate Springtime.

Life creates life,

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: The members of The Club will be able to hear the song and watch the video before everyone tomorrow. Join here.

It’s about 6am. I’m on the rooftop terrace of my riad, looking at the peaceful body of water standing right in front of me, reflecting the immaculate sky benevolently looking over a city I’ve been so blessed to call home for almost 10 years now… Almost a decade already… It’s unbelievable in so many ways, especially as I’m not known for easily rooting myself, if at all, too deeply or for sticking around for too long… It isn’t who I am. My foundational bricks have essentially been relational for the most part, not really geographical.

I guess that transient motion of mine is probably due to the fact that, when I wasn’t basically living in a children’s hospital for a lengthy period as a kid, my parents would move over and over and over again, sometimes 3-4 times in a primary school year cycle. The notion of “home” is mostly the construct of an intellectualization on my part, a blurred projection of a “place” rather than a sacred form of sanctuary where you can find love, security, and anchor, where you can grow, experiment, find yourself, and move out to the world… Your own world. It all went backwards for me. I was trying to figure out both myself and the world before I could even understand the notion of “home”. And quite frankly, if the idea of having to stay in one place for too long makes me deeply uneasy and therefore deprives me of the possibility to find any personal stability and ensconce, it gave me the world and a self-perspective that defines the person I am today, one that is still evolving and knows it hasn’t arrived yet, or ever…

That’s why realizing that I’ve been living in Tangier — or with Tangier in my heart and mind — for a decade is quite phenomenal. For me it is, anyway…

A friend asked me if it made me feel “older”… Age seems to be a universal marker for most people, a point of reference or a measure by which we can compare our dreams to reality and our accomplishments to that of others around us. I find this non-empirical grading form too subjective to really “play” by its rules, but it makes me smile nonetheless… “Does it make you feel old?” sounds like “You must be tired of traveling, you’ve collected so many stamps in your passport already.”

For me, life is about cycles, seasons, or whatever you want to call it. It’s a marathon in which you hope you’ll avoid seeing the finish line. Let’s go off-road. How much further can I go? How much deeper can I dive? And on, and on, and on. You become old once you settle. You are dead when your only fight is to maintain the status quo of your own illusionary low expectations. That’s why I have the utmost admiration for my manager Bill: He has accomplished what others don’t even have the courage to dream about. For him, it’s never “Let’s keep on going,” but always “Let’s reinvent ourselves. Let’s evolve, create, morph. But with purposes and intentionality.” He isn’t old. How could he? Even his shadows can’t follow… That’s living.

So no, I don’t feel old. I feel grateful. Immensely grateful… Only to think about that agitated and transformative period of my life, one that went by in a succession of quick flashes and what appeared as a never-ending continuity of suspensive still frames, however long that painful pre-Tangier period of my life has truly been… It’s hard for me to paint you a clear image, but it’s like projecting a movie that seems fast, too fast, slow, too slow, damaged, restored, damaged some more, ripped apart and reassembled over and over and over again. It’s the sum of all those increasingly defying motions that ultimately offered me the opportunity to define who I wanted to be, to shape my character as I was going through it all. Older by definition alone, but seemingly a little closer to be a transitionary “whole”, that is for sure.

It might seem paradoxical to say that what makes me profoundly happy each occasion I have to come back to Tangier for a minute or two is the puzzling simplicity by which life’s complexity is being handled, shared, and communed here. It’s a dazzling city operating at people’s level, and I’m privileged that I’ve been invited to add my own colors to the vibrant identity of that myriad of unique individuals, all vividly constituting the fluid flow of its humanly rich and welcoming community. Simplicity, for a person whose existence has been all but simple, is quite a gift to embrace… At least once in a while!

Life creates life.

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: I’m inviting you to stay tuned to my Substack community and my different social media platforms as many changes are coming up and several news are about to be announced! It’s quite exciting to be in such a rejuvenating type of perpetual life motion. Where will it lead? I don’t really know… Only that it is one “now” at the time. That’s what gets me so enthusiastic every morning!

In fact, the previous occasions I found Louna’s toy in my bags, I didn’t make much of it… I noticed her favorite tennis ball when I unpacked my gear the last time I went to Virginia and remembered she had done the same thing before when I discovered a piece of a long-time destroyed plush toy she had since we discovered her tiny little broken pup body left for dead at the Place du 9 Avril on a chilly January afternoon. I thought it was cute that she had lost some of her toys while creating a mess in my luggage…

I initially figured it was a coincidence, but now I see the intentional gesture. MacKaye used to do the exact same thing when I was traveling, but I had a profound bond with him, which is not something I feel like I have been able to establish with Louna — yet. But still, I found it touching and special, whatever the reasons behind her stuff getting into mine…

In many ways, it reminds me of the utmost importance of cultivating gratefulness. Like Louna (and MacKaye before her) showed, gratefulness is a pure and purposeful act that doesn’t require any sort of sacred mantras or sacrificing ritual to embody, as much as it doesn’t imply diamonds and gold but whatever is significant for each and every one of us. Like in Louna’s case, leaving an old painting roll brush she couldn’t stop carrying EVERYWHERE despite the nonsensical quantity of toys she has to play with. She offered what matters to her, a sort of “I’ll miss you and don’t forget me” (that’s how I want to see it!).

Thinking about it this morning, I realized that writing to you feels the same to me… It’s my personal token of gratefulness towards you, my way to express how precious the singular relationship we nurture together is to me. It’s one of exceptional unicity, and connecting with you is important to me, essential to the joyful essence of my days. It’s my balance, my core, what gives meaning to every single project I have the privilege to give life to. Without that connection, it’s only noise, lament, and some inanimate nonsense. Our relationship gives life to what would otherwise be soulless, sterile, and transactional. What a terrible tragedy that would be… Love is intentional, never anecdotal nor coincidental.

Thank you for being in my life. Because yes, life creates life!

Your friend and brother,

Alex

PS: Funny enough, I had another looooooooongggg text written, but I wanted to tell you how precious you all are to me. That’s the foundation for whatever is or could be the rest of it!

First, every occasion I have to spend a few days in Virginia comes as a refreshing blessing for me. It gives me perspective and helps me contemplate where I am and what that “here” of mine is truly made of, my life being an ever-faster journey that could too often be defined by its raging high velocity. Being able to engulf myself in the serene force of the mountains’ immensity offers me a perspective I rarely, if ever, have the possibility to dwell on otherwise, as I’m usually left entirely submerged by the incapacitating noises of my chaotic environment. Inner peace is sadly, or cruelly, a sort of distant luxury I have lost myself in for far too long to even believe in its benevolence whenever it comes my way once in a while, a total contrast — almost the perfect opposite — of when I manage to come home to get away from the circus I have not only created but fiercely keep alive. Quite the irony, or the reflection, of my ever-growing madness… Well, it’s probably both.

Back to Church… What?!

I went to church last Saturday. I honestly don’t remember the last time I ever set foot anywhere close to the premises of any organized religion. I have grown immensely disillusioned by the church community’s inconsequential status quo, as well as some of its political weaponization, as my vision of the church is about welcoming everyone, comforting the helpless, empowering the powerless, and being an active, solacing presence in the community… Compassion, healing, and serving. It doesn’t have anything to do with dogmas, religiosity, and proselytism. I believe in an altruism that inspires tangible self-deprived actions, such as true gatherings and communion based on dignity and humanity. That’s my personal take about it. It’s not a judgmental positional mantra: love shouldn’t be selective.

Anyway, all that to say that it was important for me to offer my respect to my friend and neighbors’ widow, regardless of my torn sentiments before the institution itself. I sat in the back, quiet, but nonetheless reverent and respectful. I had never attented to an Episcopal service before, never been too attracted to structural format… But it didn’t prevent me from finding it peaceful. I was initially confused by the whole hymnal procession but found the organ player crazy good. He clearly wasn’t following the program — he got me right there!

What I found particularly moving was all the people assembled to say a last goodbye to that one-of-a-kind individual, all coming from different spheres of life: New Yorkers, geologists, cavers, naturalists, Virginians, parishioners… The testimonies were rich in funny anecdotes and poignant testimonies. My friend had lived several lives over the course of his journey… I can relate to that, especially the fact that what truly mattered to him was the people and how he could make some sort of positive impact around him and beyond. Being at the service of others ain’t nowadays’ saveur du jour, that’s for sure… I couldn’t stop laughing hearing all those stories. “Oh, God!” like he used to say in some sort of exasperation… I thought I was the only one to be what I called “oh godded” by him, but it looks like I wasn’t! Everyone in the large crowd laughed about it. The pastor later brought it on: “How many of you have been graced with an ‘Oh, God!’ here?” Everyone, without any exception, raised their hand!

One of the stories that particularly touched me was the moment my friend, newly ordained as an Episcopalian minister, was walking in the city with other pastors and a woman started screaming his name, all happy to see him. She was half naked, and nothing was left to the imagination when she started to run towards them. While some people could have been uncomfortable, my friend was super happy to see her. She told the others that my friend helped her to kick several addictions and to find an apartment and a job. When she left, the other ministers asked my friend what had happened and what he had done to support her in such a defining way. He simply said, “I looked at her with the same high value I give to everyone.” That was it, end of the story. I believe it sums up the character of my friend: a person who decided to be intentional and consequential.

Once the service came to an end, leaving me still confused about the singing parts and odd sequencing of the hymns everybody seemed to know by heart, we gathered in the community room where I had the privilege to interact with others for an hour or two, learning a whole lot more about my friend’s life and realizing that most of the attendees knew me already. My friend had made sure to share every single element of the nonsense he had witnessed daily by simply stopping over my house for a few minutes. It was surreal to hear strangers recollecting parts of my infamous mountaineering fails one by one! They all insisted that my friend had grown very fond of me, that he kept on saying, “That guy is too brilliant for his own sake, and he knows it, so it makes him a smartass!” Sounds like me alright! Or at least it would sound pretty familiar to anyone just close enough to me to know he was right… Oh, God!!!

I left the church happy… Happy I was there to honor my friend and to support his wife and family. Happy that I didn’t let my profound disappointment (for lack of better words) with the religious institutional establishment get in the way of the real, joyful, and benevolent community agape moment with the people. I wouldn’t go as far as affirming that it produced a sort of inner reconciliation with the whole church “structure”, but I managed to be honest enough with myself to differentiate my past nightmarish experiences and the beautiful display of care and affection I had witnessed during those few hours. It gave me some solace, that’s for sure.

When I was about to leave, an elderly lady came to me and, with her bright blue eyes looking at me, told me:

Lady: “Alex, will we see you again?”
Me: “Probably not, at least not in such a context,” I answered, smiling and trying to charm my way out).
Lady: “I understand… The unknown can be frightening.”
Me: In my head, I was like WHAT?!? I’m not afraid!!! “That is true…”
Lady: “So what are you scared of?”
Me: I’m not scared at all, I insisted in my head. “Well, I had my fair share of church services, I guess…” I said, still in the charming mode.
Lady: “You know that sleeping at McDonald’s won’t turn you into a Big Mac in the morning, right?”
Me: I was a bit perplexed at that point and simply nodded.
Lady: “You didn’t get it, did you? It’s not about religion, or the walls, or the service. It’s what you want to give that changes everything.”
Me: At that point, I started looking around, first hoping someone would come and get her and second for an exit strategy if no one came to my rescue.
Lady: “You are an artist, we heard your music.”
Me: I became a little concerned at this point. “Oh, really?”
Lady: “It’s intense.”
Me: “Yes, it’s emotionally intense, you are right.” I was still looking around, wondering if someone had lost a beautiful elderly person, but no one seemed to be looking for her.
Lady: “I like it.”
Me: “Really…?”
Lady: “I used to sing in bands, doing Janis was the best!”
Me: “Janis Joplin?!?”
Lady: “Is there another Janis I didn’t hear of?”
Me: “You are right, there’s none,” I replied, while thinking she was cocky and also lost, and still hoping someone would come get her.
Lady: “Rock music is about being fearless, but faith is about knowing why,” she suddenly declared.
Me: I suddenly stopped fantasizing about someone coming to pick her up and apologizing for their grandma’s behavior.
Lady: “Oh, I got your attention now!”
Me: “Yes you did! And you are right, there’s a profound measure of spirituality in art, the honest one.”
Lady: “A measure? No, it’s all about that. Stop convincing yourself otherwise.”
Me: “True… The intangible is what turns something inanimate into growing life.”
Lady: “There you go! Come and play music with your band.”
Me: “It will be loud,” I said, playing the cocky game as well.
Lady: “Is it only loud or weighty?”
Me: I had never heard that expression, weighty, but I figured it was better than loud. “It will be for you to let me know…”
Lady: “Loud is easy. And when it’s only loud, here’s what I do. She showed me her earpiece like she would lower the volume. “Weighty is not easy.” And she pointed to my heart…
Me: “True…”

As I was about to ask her questions, a man arrived and asked her where she had been.

Lady: “I was talking with my friend Alex, who is afraid to connect his brain to his heart.”
Man: “Sorry, Alex. Mom, we need to go.”
Lady: “Goodbye, Alex, see you soon,” she said while pointing at her heart.
Me: “Yes, see you soon.”
Lady: “You said it… Better keep your word now!”
Me: I smiled. “Oh, God!!!”

And What About New Music?

Once I felt just emotionally detached enough from the otherwise galvanizing circus I’m usually engulfed in when I’m at the HQ, Ben and I sat in our impromptu avant-garde recording studio that no one in their right mind would want to work in — let alone create — to listen to the whole record from the start. As you know, or may know by now, for me, an album is a voyage within a voyage, with a streaming beginning leading to a transformative open door as to where it will transition before it morphs beyond the last echoing notes of a journey that never seems to end, that never feels truly over once we’ve reached a new affective shore after going through the passage of our own let go and transformation. That’s what a record is to me: an inner pilgrimage designed to be collectivized sometime after.

I was profoundly struck by just how significantly more introspective and spiritual the whole album had evolved at this point and how substantially more sonically dense and wide the whole voyage managed to elevate itself over its whole inceptive period, holding a sort of time suspension along with an intangible measure of ethereal impermanence entangled with fragments of human yet divine transfiguration. If it’s impossible for me to describe something that “sacred” in any specific terms, creative genres, or art form characterization — which for me is a blessing, considering it perfectly represents my vision of expressive creation — the record’s nature is a pure entity of its own…

The only way I can translate it would be in the likes of a heart standing in a fragile balance between blazing reborn lights and bleak despaired faithlessness. And even so, its essence might reside in the margins of everything I can barely feel or still remain totally blind to… True art is the magnificent incarnation of the divine and its elusive complexion.

That’s why, following my listening session, I told Ben that if I ever wanted to revisit what had already been recorded, he would have to hide it all from my subversive manic obsession to keep trying to shape the clay of what’s unknown for me to tame its free-spirited motion. What I sensed, even more than what I heard, was “it”, untainted by any megalomaniacal desires, untouched by controlling temptations, something that only ambition has the potential to pervert back to human level… What’s “it” is “it”. If you are reading this, Ben, save it all from me, brother!

And yet, the record isn’t totally completed, as there are two additional songs that kept on coming back to my mind, as if they were haunting their way into that initial act of the project I’ve been foreseeing for quite some time now…

I know, I’m a total tease, but what can I do? When it’s “it”, it’s totally “it” for me… So let’s see where it will lead us all and how it will keep growing from this point on…

Life creates life!

Your friend and brother

Alex

Beauty comes with pain, and pain comes with pressing my spirit to the brink of insanity, of total emotional collapse. To get in that state, I completely shut down — at least that’s what I’m trying to do. It’s sometimes difficult to understand for people around me, as such sufferings are seen as unnecessary for those who care about me… But it’s how I can touch the intangible elements I long for. Otherwise, it goes back to the notion of how good or bad a song, a poem, a movie, or a visual is, a subjective gradation that I’m completely alien to. Not only do I not care about that, but I despise it… I’m looking for something else. I appreciate Monet, but I’m a Francis Bacon type of guy.

That being said, I guess you wouldn’t be surprised to know that I already deleted entirely finished records in the past, stopped extensive pre-production sessions, or decided to re-record a significant portion of an album’s arrangements, all because it wasn’t “it” to me. It’s as simple as that… And sometimes, a project needs to be done or very close to completion for me to know if it’s “it” or not. It’s crazy, I know. It’s not the best way to make friends or to keep those who are still around, but that’s how much I value the authentic nature of a project. I’m well known for “hiding” some of my songs as well… It drives my bandmates mad. The kiss of death for a song is usually this: “This song will be a monster hit!” And while I know it’s true, this is not the reason why I’m writing. So whenever I feel like my art is primarily seen as a commercial entity, I usually move on to something else pretty quickly or turn the song into a 38-minute avant-garde version. And no, it doesn’t help keeping friends around either!

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not about some self-sabotage or career suicide, but personal integrity. A high school friend asked me recently if I was afraid of success, recognition, or fame. It’s a fair question… I tasted all there was to experience in that regard (to a certain extent) during the hey days of my band Your Favorite Enemies, and no matter how grateful I am (and will always be) about that fructifying season of my life, I’ve never been happier than where I presently am. I don’t fear success, I just don’t have the same definition of what it is. That’s why I have the utmost respect for Angine de Poitrine, way over some pre-fabricated hit artist. They never changed, remained the same, and are even more fiercely independent than I am, which is not a small accomplishment! Again, it’s about integrity… By design there’s an expiry date to most sudden phenomena. The countdown is already on for them, and they know it, so better play the game your way, with your own rules. You’ll never have any regrets if it’s truly about art… Otherwise, go and grasp as much as you can while you can. Better be you than any other cash sucker… I suppose!

In fact, I was somehow happy to know that Jackson Pollock, one of my favorite American painters, had his game-changing avant-garde piece, Number 7A, 1948, sold for a record-breaking price of 181.2 million dollars this last Monday, which made it the fourth most expensive work ever sold at auction, according to ARTnews. Of course, Jackson died almost 70 years ago, and it’s an ultra-rich of the world that managed to buy it… The point isn’t about art trafficking but about following your muse as an artist, regardless of what people may think, of what others may expect, or of what may satisfy them or not in the creations. When I hear individuals say that artists never truly reap the benefits of their work, I totally disagree, as a true artist redefines themselves. That’s where the revolution lies. If the modern world is filled with celebrities and “things” generated by computers, I believe that one’s life transformation is enough to add tiny fragments of light in the collective darkness we can otherwise only endure through our dopamine-brain-rot intoxication. As goes art, so goes the civilization. Everything is there.

Ok, I’m digressing again. So I’m going back home to re-immerse my heart and soul in the midst of my songs, which has been quite arduous and laborious to do as of late. I’ve been working on the visual art for my upcoming tour, singles, and record entity while doing several interviews for the release of From the City to the Ocean and defining the outlines of other significant projects that I can’t wait to announce. No matter how profoundly thankful I am for everything I have the privilege to be involved in, it wasn’t easy to maintain a certain sense of affective seclusion. I’m not what you can identify as good company when I’m that deeply engaged in writing and have to get out of my attempt to maintain a tightly hermetic bubble over and over. It clearly doesn’t help the album’s deleting potentiality, that’s for sure!

On the bright side, you will be happy — and maybe reassured — to know that I sent everything related to my upcoming album’s first single to every streaming platform earlier this week, so it’s too late for any “deleting catastrophe” at this point… And if everything goes according to plan, which is always a big “if” in my case, the recording should be completed by May 31st. Therefore, I’m truly impatient and intrigued to know what type of “mysteries” the upcoming 10 days will allow me to discover and be consumed by. Besides the foreseeable blessing there is for me to share the blooming elements that such a painful labor will deliver, it’s the whole evolution of a project’s gestational period that matters… Little do I know when it all takes place, but I can feel myself evolving in a significant fashion as well, reminding me that it’s the principal reason why every single one of my creative affair leads me to the brink of total emotional and physical collapse each time I dive ever deeper into the unknown, that I’m being deprived of control… Because when I do, I see myself morphing, transforming, transfiguring into someone new… “me.”

Pollock stated that “Painting is self-discovery. Every good artist paints what he is.” If it’s true, I dare add “But any honest architect of his own existence can transform his journey into a project that will allow his whole entity to eventually become free, first, from the fear of constantly leaning towards subversive evolution and, ultimately, from the so-called safety that the world’s status quo has been selling us aplenty since its foundation.”

And if I constantly fear and doubt, constantly resist transformation and oppose self-rebirth, I guess the ultimate benediction comes in the fact that true “sounds” don’t obey the dreadful laws of gravity… It’s the “call of the void” bearing a self-metamorphosing opportunity with it. I hope I’ll find that kind of sounds like I so often do when I tame the noises I’m usually immersed in on every occasion I have to come back to the mountains… It would mean that you’ll be able to hear and dwell into it as well. I’ll have to manage my “deleting” tendencies to do so…!

Life creates life!!!

Your friend and brother

-Alex