10 Seconds: Alice Mary Williamson Jelaska

"Thank you so much for asking me to do this - and sorry it took so much longer to do than I thought! Found it simultaneously amusing, nostalgic, and weirdly anxiety inducing...A bit surprised at all the voices in my head worrying about what moments in music I share openly with others, like the strange fear of being seen as uncool at school.

There are so many songs/pieces/moments I could have shared that have inspired me or shaped my understanding of music - but I decided to go for something very instinctual/personal and memory-based.

Turning 40 this month led to a lot of reflections on life and childhood and getting older. So following that theme I divided my life into ten chunks of 4 years, and looking back on each chunk, tried to let my brain go to random memories relating to music that stood out to me… a mix of emotional, silly, annoying, energetic, friend & family-related recollections…"

- Alice Mary Williamson Jelaska https://www.instagram.com/alicemaryjelaska/

Age 0-4:

1. Sibelius – Karelia Suite Op.11 I. Intermezzo. Moderato (CSR Symphony Orchestra) (1'08" - 1'18")

"I have a really vivid memory of dancing manically to this, I don’t even remember if my parents necessarily chose to listen to it much themselves, or where my slightly intense love of it came from, but I can remember specifically asking for it to be played quite a few times. From the very opening horns at the start I can still feel the sensation in my body of a sort of caged nervous excitement, and then when it builds up and the tune drops that was the moment I’d be careering around the sitting room. When searching for it online I kept finding different versions and none of them hit the same as this recording we had - from the Czech-Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra (to show my age…)"

Age 4-8:

2. Fats Waller – Your Feet’s Too Big (2’50” – 3’00”)

from Fats Waller - Your Feet's Too Big 7" (1939)

"My primary school used to put these shows on called the ‘Hiss & Boo Concerts’ – all the kids, parents, staff would get involved and put on a night themed around a particular decade. Songs, dances, sketches, etc. My mum used to be part of a group called the ‘South Baddesley Bad Girls’, who did dance performances with mildly risqué hints… (their first one was the Can Can). Another year my mum and dad started a duo act based on Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire that they called ‘Fred Norley & Ginger Wood’ after the village we were in. They danced to ‘Your Feet’s Too Big’ wearing tuxedos, with giant golden feet attached their bare feet. I vaguely remember they were wearing top hats too. Involve various choreographed moments with the big feet getting in the way of their dance. I remember hearing them practising, this song going round and round, it stuck in my memory and as a child thought it was so brilliant a song could just be about hating someone for their big feet. Was hard to pick ten seconds but went for the very end, as it always made me laugh: ‘Your pedal extremities really are obnoxious’."

Age 8-12:

3. Paul Simon – I Know What I Know (0’00” – 0’10”)

from Paul Simon - Graceland (1986)

"Feels a bit funny to include this here as I barely ever listened to it intentionally, whereas I listened to a lot of other music round this time… but the first ten seconds of guitar & drums always make me think of my sister. For a while she had this specific habit of coming into the sitting room whilst I was in there, putting the Graceland CD on, skipping to the third track to listen to it, then walking out the room and forgetting about it, leaving me there listening to music I hadn’t chosen to listen to (usually while I was in the middle of trying to do homework or practise music). It started to annoy me and I made the mistake of telling her – as then, literally for years after, she would come into the sitting room at my parents (even after we had moved out and were visiting as adults), say ‘guess what’s going to happen’, and before I could respond she’d press play on this tune and walk out. So anytime I hear the start of this track I also hear her saying ‘guess what’s going to happen’. I'm pretty sure the only reason she hasn’t done this more recently is because she lives in Australia right now."

Age 12-16:

4. Adewale Ayuba – Fuji Shuffle (1’01” – 1’11”)

from Adewale Ayuba - Fuji Time (1996)

"We had a few compilation CDs at home (Rough Guide, Putumayo, etc), I loved listening to them as there were so many artists and styles I wouldn’t have otherwise known about. At school I totally & anxiously pretended to know what was in the charts, but at home mostly listened to British music from the forties/fifties/sixties/seventies and a mixture of new and old music from artists in Peru, Colombia, Brazil, Jamaica, Congo, Nigeria, Ghana. Had a lot of love for a lot of music round this time, especially as when my sister went to uni I was on my own much more. And my dad loved listening to much of this music too. Lots to choose from but this particular moment in Fuji Shuffle always stayed with me – ‘What time is it! What time is it everybody!’ Was always hit by the feeling of spontaneity, energy and not knowing what’s going to happen next, even while the percussion keeps going through the whole track."

Age 16-20:

5. Haydn – Symphony No. 60 in C major, ‘Il distratto’. VI. Finale. Prestissimo. (0’11” – 0’21”)

"Another seemingly random one as I never really listened to this except when I had to during my first year of university. Went to Cambridge from a state school which was a bit of a shock to the system, spent the first year not really knowing what I was doing there, feeling quite crap at music, quite bored by the old fashioned courses we had to cover in the first year, a bit intimidated by various Eton organ scholars, and going out a lot and getting fairly stupidly drunk.

Leading up to the first exams I felt like I knew so little. For Aural we somehow had to know what felt like about 90 different Haydn Symphonies. I was in a weird headspace and found so much of this endlessly boring. I remember going for a walk on my own one morning and going up a tower (...yes) with a minidisc player with all the Haydn Symphonies we were supposed to learn. I stood up at the top of the tower forcing myself to listen to them all, while looking over Cambridge, feeling at first quite annoyed, a bit bored, a bit sad…. But found myself having a bit of an epiphany, feeling almost spiritual about the purity of the strings and the rhythmic drive, and a sudden feeling of warmth for Cambridge. Then this surreal 10-12 seconds of this one movement took me totally by surprise, and I had to rewind to check I hadn’t imagined it, as it happens nowhere else in the movement, or in any other of his Symphonies."

Age 20-24:

6. Boris Sasso - Trogir, Trogir (1’41” – 1’51”)

"A slightly jokey one with some deep family connections. My mum is Croatian, from Split, which is a stunning part of the world, with a Roman Palace and mountains right by the Adriatic Sea. Beauty coupled with lots of difficult history and Balkan complications. After the war in Yugoslavia we went a few times to see our family again, but I always felt I missed out on so much time with them due to the war – so in my twenties I started to go every year on my own to see my granny and cousins and friends. I loved it so much there, the smells, the fresh fish and salad, lavanda, islands, cicadas singing through the trees, swimming in the sea, old ladies in the market. Yet amidst this there was often something complex and mysterious and slightly frustrating going on, a close friend who suddenly no one spoke to anymore and no one would explain why, or some illness or death no one would talk about.

I was always told I wasn’t allowed to walk ten minutes across town in Split as it was ‘too dangerous’. Trying to explain I lived in London and did everything on my own wasn’t really taken in. So my granny or a cousin or aunt would book a taxi and kindly hand me kuna notes to pay for it. At first this was a taxi driver called Boris Sasso who wore a toupee and sunglasses and gave out his card to everyone, which stated that he was a taxi driver, musical artist, and lawyer. There may have been another profession on there too. Once he wrote me a note asking me to bring back a pot of ‘Sudan Lift’ from the UK (turned out this was an anti-ageing cream called ‘Sudden Lift’). He was a good friend of my aunt and granny until suddenly one day he wasn’t, with no given reason - and he was never called again for (taxi) lifts.

Despite this sudden ending, his album became a favourite with me and some of my friends, bringing fond memories of him, his taxi, his sunglasses, his songs all sounding faintly similar and called things like ‘Maria, Maria’, ‘Amerika, Kanada’, and this beauty, ‘Trogir, Trogir’. Trogir itself is a place very close to my heart - his music video features it in a slightly randomised way while he strums guitar wearing a raincoat. Complete with classic cheesy Croatian pop key change. If you’ve ever been on a coach in Croatia the vibe might feel familiar."

Age 24-28:

7. Orquesta Típica Victor, Ernesto Famá – Carillón de la Merced (0’00” – 0’10”)

"During this time I danced tango a lot, almost obsessively, and learnt lots of tango tunes on clarinet. There are so many old etiquettes at tango social dances (‘milongas’), the way people ask one another to dance with a cabaceo (trying to subtly catch each other’s eye with a slight nod of the head), the structure of tandas (4 songs) and cortinas (‘curtain’, a break between tandas) to ensure people can switch partners and decide which rhythms they wish to dance to (tango, tango vals, milonga). I particularly love the old 1930s golden age classic tangos and earlier, the mixed sound world bringing together Argentine, Uruguayan, Cuban, West and Central African rhythms, and Southern, Central and Eastern European folk dance influences - with violins, piano, bandoneon, bass. This recording of ‘Carillón de la Merced’, from 1931, immediately makes me think of my close friend Kish, as he called it ‘Hey Alice’ and wrote his own version of the lyrics: ‘Hey, Alice – How’s it going – Come over – We’ll eat salmon pasta vegetables – And then we’ll watch TV – And have a cup of tea…’ Any time we heard these bells at the start of a tanda Kish and I would ignore all the etiquette and try find each other in the room to dance to it."

Age 28-32:

 8. The Ink Spots - Street of Dreams (0'00" - 0'10")

from The Ink Spots - The Ink Spots (1946)

"I used to play multiple weekly gigs with a gypsy swing/manouche band but we all got so distracted and interested by other music that our set actually ended up being mostly Ink Spots, Nino Rota, Roy Orbison, Dinah Washington songs and Cumbia. I have very fond and distinct memories of sitting in the car being given a lift by Bruce, the rhythm guitarist (who is also a builder, plumber, carpenter & handyman, so his car often full of random unrelated items and pots of paint), whilst he smoked rollies, and we listened to music together. We particularly loved listening to and chatting along to the Ink Spots albums he had, the very familiar intro to each song, the structure that always included a spoken version of the lyrics in the middle. I really appreciate and value music that isn’t afraid to stay where it is, and take its time."

Age 32-36:

9. Hüsnü Şenlendirici – Yikilmisim Ben (after İbrahim Tatlises – Dertler Derya Olmus) (6’45” – 6’55”)

"Have worked for nearly 9 years with a charity in Croydon called Play for Progress, doing music and arts sessions with teenagers and young people going through the process of seeking asylum in the UK. Have met and worked with so many young people and learnt so much, my emotional and musical world grew hugely within that. One particular Kurdish student who wanted to learn clarinet (and now still plays it beautifully) came to me each week with several intricate Turkish and Kurdish tunes that I had never heard or played before. We had this slightly hilarious and intense process where I would try and learn the tunes on the spot within a few minutes so that I could then show him how to play it on the clarinet. He would always point out any mistakes immediately and coach me through the tune until I got it right, before I showed him how to play the notes on the clarinet; it was like having an intensive ear training session each week. This was one of the songs he came to me with, which coincided with Covid hitting - suddenly I had a lot of time and spent many days learning the whole piece. It now reminds me very strongly of that moment in time and the bond between us when trying to learn together. A couple of moments which go very high - the clarinettist (Hüsnü Şenlendirici, Turkish Romani musician) floats effortlessly like a bird, his tone so warm throughout."

Age 36-40:

10. Victor Jara - Te Recuerdo Amanda (0’07”– 0’17”)

from Víctor Jara - Pongo en tus manos abiertas (1969)

"I was also tempted to go for a Molly Drake song that means a lot to me. But this song by Victor Jara feels apt for so many reasons for the last few years - politically, emotionally, musically. It’s an incredibly sad and beautiful song from his album Pongo en tus Manos Abiertas (‘I put into your open hands’). The opening guitar intro I was completely drawn into the first time I heard it. Then learning who it was by and that those same hands that played it were later crushed by the military in Chile during the 1973 coup d’etat to overthrow president Allende. His life and his hands are always in my head when I listen to this, and when I’ve tried to play it. Victor Jara was taken along with many others who had supported Allende, imprisoned, and then taken to the Stadium of Chile, tortured, taunted to play his songs after his hands were mutilated, and violently killed.

With the insane mass violence, suffering, starving and killing happening in Palestine, Sudan, Libya, Yemen, Iran, in so many other places, to so many humans. And activist movements, that people with power have tried to shut down. Hearing songs like this, from an activist whose life was ended in this way, feels especially fragile and significant, thinking of all the musicians, artists, activists, humans living through hell and pain or having their lives violently taken right now.

An extra one just for being 40...

 11. Pink Floyd - Fat Old Sun (2’05” – 2’15”)

from Pink Floyd - Atom Heart Mother (1970)

"Listened to this with my dad the other day. It was a sunny day and there was birdsong in the air, and he started singing it, I asked what it was and he got out the record for us to listen to. I couldn’t believe I’d not listened to it before as something about the sound of it felt so familiar and connecting. Had a nice hour listening to music together. Enjoyed Alan’s Psychedelic Breakfast, Parts I, II & III, after Fat Old Sun too. Was reminded how emotionally connected my dad is with music and how maybe that’s one reason it’s become such a big part of my life.

Reflecting on time passing, and some of the particularly difficult times we’ve been through as a family in the last few years and beyond (my dad getting through a stroke, multiple family bereavements, going through the loss of my baby son… it's been fairly majorly crap). And yet there are these simple moments of sunlight and birdsong that can bring people and earth together - ‘When the fat old sun in the sky is falling, Summer evening birds are calling’."

PS. One that didn’t make the cut but…

12. Nino Rota - Nights of Cabiria Mambo (1’12” – 1’22”)

from Nino Rota - Nights Of Cabiria OST (1957)

"Just because I love it when a clarinet squeaks accidentally and I think it’s wonderful it’s been captured on the soundtrack forever, I could listen this bit on loop over and over."