Detective Weltmeister came onto the scene, a ratty one bedroom apartment with a dead mendicant and a silent, broken accordion.
I stood at the door. A first year uniformed flatfoot. I’d knocked on the old guy’s door to offer him some date nut bread from my wife. Looked in. Saw the mayhem, and called the precinct and detective.
The accordion was in a distended, immodest state, bellows stretched. The detective, with grace, picked up the shambles, set it aside, and covered it with a small towel. It let out one last wheeze. An F sharp, I think. Like a death rattle.
“Toi et Moi” is #24 in the Bal Folk Tune Book. Played on the Lilly, it has that quality inherent to many scottishes of being delightful. This is the third of Trevor Upham’s tunes that I’ve recorded for the Bal Folk Tune Book Project.
When I think back to when I first heard Bal Folk accordion, one of the things that I loved was that there was nothing ironic or world weary about. It was anti-misanthropic. This tune is exactly the kind of tune that gave me that feeling. It’s number 23 in the Bal Folk Tune Book.
These are played simply and straightforwardly, bourrées in three. All of them are sans nom in the Bal Folk Tune Book and, as is my custom I give sans nom tunes nicknames. If you know the actual name of any of these, please let me know. The tunes are #79 (“Eevee”) #74 (“Ursula”) #83 (“Dola”). All three are named for cats in my life. Other tunes nicknamed for my cats are “Frida” and “Quinta.” Yes, I’ve had a lot of cats in my life.