Things are progressing rapidly here at Casa Murilo HQ. Spring is here in all its finery and we are gigging at house parties, rehearsing with an (almost) full band and making all the necessary plans to record our debut EP and get to where we need to be. We had a triumphant gig on Saturday night and are pushing on.In the meantime, we asked our very dearest friend, one Ross Holmes, to furnish our blog with a few pen strokes and tell of his recollections of those heady days in Brazil that you hear of in our songs. The first instalment is included below.
For those who have been asking about the videos we have up on youtube, one is up on our myspace already and we have a few more that we like which we´ll be ready to share with the world soon enough.
Enjoy. Kos dere.
"Amongst the mud portraits, scribbled maps and unfinished poems in my moleskin there are some scraps of what could pass as a diary. I have included them here for your viewing pleasure and to give you a little background on the early days of Casa Murilo, or Dr Chocolate and the Salvadors as they were back then. It’s been an interesting ride..."
December 2007.
“So we’re off to the Jungle for xmas. And yes, the Jungle is massive. It’s 10pm, 32 degrees and we are the only people in the bus station sweating. We are also the only people playing an impromptu gig with 2 acoustic guitars and an ensemble of water-bottle percussion to 12 of our closest friends and lovers. Two rum bottles are circling and our cigarette smoke hangs ominously in the still, tropical air, only disturbed by our laughter and clapping. We are quite the attraction in Salvador’s Rodoviaria.
"I think Dan and Chris are making sweet musical love. Dan is leading a Johnny Cash mega-mix and Chris has predicted and followed perfectly while staring deep into Dan’s eyes, occasionally giggling and flicking his hair out of his eyes. Maybe I’ll get to be the page boy.
"We’re on the bus. All the other passengers are getting out blankets and settling in for the night. We’ve just finished a progressively rowdy version of ‘Fairytale of New York’ in full Shane McGowan accents. I thought Dan was going to start spitting to complete the impression. Fortunately Joe’s Thai sleeping pills seem to have kicked in and Dan is now hunched over his guitar dribbling, the impression complete.
"Ooof. My watch indicates that we are 8 hours into a 6 hour bus ride. We are stationary and the driver is nowhere to be seen. You have to love rural Bahia.
"Just came back from a reconnoiter. There’s a few men at the front of the bus, occasionally looking at the engine offering their diagnoses. One of them is a habitual tyre kicker. I milled about on the edges with my hat pulled low quietly smoking my fag and if my Portuguese isn’t failing me it seems we have run out of petrol."
