Hiram died on Friday. Absolutely shocking news. I saw him performing with Richard Müller at Pohoda Festival last Saturday — he was making and stealing the show.

It was surprising seeing him coming to Trenčín, Slovakia to support Müller, with whom he recorded two albums. Müller hasn’t appeared in front of audience for some two years, since announcing his hiatus. The one-off gig was highly anticipated and proved how serious Müller’s condition is. Müller’s fighting demons of depression and consequences of years of drug abuse.

And Hiram? He beamed on stage. Audience loved him and he radiated energy, playing his guitar like a genius he was. Not a shadow on his face gave away what he was going through. I could never imagine I’d be writing these lines today.

For both of us at tm91, with great respect, we thank you for being with us. You’re going to be sadly missed.

Do you associate a song with a certain event or vice versa? I do — quite often — not intentionally but rather subconsciously. It just happens to be that way. When I hear a song, I can re-create an occasion; or another similar moment reminds me of a certain tune.

Take The Beatles. I can link their music to the particular time of my youth. I was listening to Help! when I was in the seventh grade; Rubber Soul was my favourite in the eight one. White Album by the summer of that year, just before Let It Be took over completely. Lennon came next and Plastic Ono Band ruled my days as I advanced to the grammar school.

I remember discotheques by a DJ’s favourite track. T Club, a Uni club where I used to hang out while underaged — Forever Young. A high school ski trip — What a Wonderful World. A disco at school premises — I Love To Hate You. My last trip to the border of civilisation with a bunch of young mathematicians — Violently Happy. I could go on and on like that for hours.

Mentioning What a Wonderful World, there’s something else crossing my mind. Songs that are forever a part of one’s memory because of technology: people have learnt to set their own ringtones or alarm tunes that follow them through months until they become annoying and get changed. I had few ringtones replaced, yet I’ve been waking up to Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s rendition of What a Wonderful World/Over the Rainbow since 2005, and it seems it’s not giving up.

Then, there are numbers that are shared and have untouchable intimate quality… ‘Cos one happened to listen to them while being with someone exceptional; and those are moments that are rendered unforgettable. It may be ironic enough that one can recall also tunes used to heal (or enjoy) a broken heart. How good is Stand by My Woman or Into My Arms? How weird can Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft sound?

And a very special category are the songs written for somebody. I managed to pen one or two clumsy ones (with indisputable Gabriel’s help) and seeing they work, they give a loved one goose pimples or make her cry — because she’s been touched! — is the most rewarding experience. Simply amazing.

Of course, fame and money would not hurt either. (But hey, that’s just me trying to be sarcastic to hide that I’m sentimental…)

He’s taking a gorgeous looking Telecaster instead of his Gibson SJ-200 and I think I’m pretty sure which song will follow.

“I haven’t played this guitar for at least 100 years,” he says.
“It was a gift from Laco Lučenič. What a pity he doesn’t see me now, he’d be proud of my virtuosity.”

Good to hear a hint of self-deprecation humor. Well, he has English mother after all. He plays one-chord riff as I expected, then stops and lets the band play the rest — that is Cesta zakázanou rýchlosťou, one of his rare rock driven tunes.

After seeing Miro “Meky” Žbirka for a second time in London, I’ve decided to mention it. Somehow. Besides, I have to count Miro among my influences, surprising as it may be.

His first concert was acoustic without drums/bass. It was great anyway; audience did sing along and everyone enjoyed themselves. Miro has a distinctive voice with enough strength to make his melodies captivating in any scenario.

For his second appearance in London on Friday he brought the whole band as he promised year and half ago, therefore able to play the aforementioned song, which deserves a full electric arrangement.

Now why is the song a core of this article? Is it his best song? I guess not. But if I’d ever have to play live again, I’d be certainly tempted to put this tune into our set now and then. Although more likely the English version — She’s Out of Control. Good work Miro.

It’s getting more and more difficult to categorise music. Once there was jazz, there was rock and there was punk. And others, of course, with their respective names. And if there was something in between, it could be labelled jazz-rock or punk-rock or whatever felt suitable and available. Today, musicians absorb and interpret so many influences that it’s impossible to classify a genre they play. And one has to be really careful not to offend anyone.

— I liked the way you jazzed — said I recently to a certain artist and I meant it. A fair comment, really, thought I.
— It ain’t jazz, dear. It’s our ownstyle.
— Sure it is. But can’t you call it jazz? I guess you can feel a vibey, souly, rhytm’n'bluesy, funky influences in there, so there’s certainly jazzy roots underneath, eh?
— It’s different.
— So what about those standards? Summertime? Sunny?
— You’ve got it all wrong.

I surely do. And I have to be more cautious before I open my whingy mouth next time.

I appreciate live music, an experience of being there while the sounds are created and enjoyed by musicians and a crowd alike. I don’t differentiate, one can see me watching Prince or U2 as well as a local jazz band. In fact, I have a strong feeling that I do prefer a local jazz band over anything else.

Having lived in Prague for just a short period, I am not acquainted with a lot of people around but through a lucky coincidence I got to know a lovely young lady called Leona Prokopcová. Leona is a jazz singer and a regular in a downtown jazz venue Agharta.

Seeing Leona on stage is always an occasion — unlike a large number of other musicians, notably those who perform a deeper genre such as jazz — Leona is not afraid to communicate with the audience, poke a joke or tell a story to introduce a song. I guess it’s often the attitude that makes all the difference. Of course, she’s also an impressive singer — hearing her live is an uplifting and stirring event without fail.

Unfortunately, I just cannot get my timing right — I missed her last concert not knowing she was to perform and I’m gonna miss her next one this Saturday as I’m out of town. And I’m seriously worried how many more chances I get to see her as she’s supposedly leaving Prague for Denmark in few months.

So for those of you who have a chance, go see her gig, it’s well worth the time. But if you run into me afterwards, please don’t rave too much, all right? I’m already sorry I’m not gonna be there.