L U N A T A L K with Eva Moon

No one will ever know

December 10, 2009 on 8:20 am | | In Backstage Pass, General Musing, Movies, Music

Chapter One

Many years ago, long before I was the confident, capable (snort) singer I am now, I was acutely nervous about a solo in a choir concert. The solo was an exceedingly obscure Hungarian Gypsy song. It would be hard to overstate just how obscure this song was. It was from a tiny village in Kalotaszeg, a tiny cluster of Hungarian villages in northwestern Romania so remote the whole region only has two lines in Wikipedia. The song was passed to me on a cassette of a cassette of a cassette from a peripatetic ethnomusicologist. The concert was at a Jewish Community Center in Sherman Oaks, CA. What exactly was I fretting about? That I would fuck up the words.

“Who will know?” the director pointed out.

She had a point. I sucked in air and tried to unclench.

I did fuck up the lyrics, singing through a brief spurt of nonsense syllables. I let it go. After all, who would know?

I found out at intermission when I was accosted by an elderly, weeping woman. She was not only from Romania. She was not only from Kalotaszeg, but she was from the exact village where the song originated! How we both ended up at the same Sherman Oaks JCC, is just one of those unfathomable cosmic mysteries. Of course, she didn’t care a burgonyakereg about the fluffed lyrics.

But, damn!

Chapter Two

About four years ago, my band Balkanarama recorded a live CD. One night, twelve songs, one take, no do-overs, no overdubs. While not flawless, it’s an energetic and true representation of our live sound. One of the “not flawless” bits occurs 27 seconds into the first song. Another lyric flub. Instead of “kerta” I bobbled and sang “ashka.” If I never mentioned it, who would know, right? Well, this song, while not exactly Billboard fare, is not quite as obscure as the first one. It was written and recorded by the famous Rom singer, Esma Redzepova so, yes, there are some who might catch it. But only one who matters: Esma herself. And what are the chances of her hearing it?

Chapter Three

Fast forward once more to 2009. The phone rings. The caller is a movie producer who wants to know if he can acquire the rights to two songs from our Live CD for the sound track of an independent film currently in production. Gee, let me think about th… yes!

The movie (due to be released in the spring of 2010) is You May Not Kiss the Bride, a romantic comedy/caper flick directed by Rob Hedden in which a mobster tries to arrange for his daughter to obtain U.S. citizenship by setting her up with a American photographer. It stars Rob Schneider, Katharine McPhee, Dave Annable, Ken Davitian and Mena Suvari. The first two songs from our CD will be the celebratory music for the big wedding scene at the end.

But of course, since Esma wrote the song, rights had to be procured from her publisher. Which means, once again, the ONE PERSON IN THE WORLD to whom my lyrical fluff would actually matter, will know.

To this day, I continue to screw up lyrics regardless of the language. But now it’s a trademark.

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