Dr. Kepi

In an attempt to not entirely forget about this blog I will now tell you a story about musicians.


Part 1: The Austrian Man who Cut his Hand.
Once upon a time, there was a band, called DeeCracks. There were 2 guys in this band. Actually 3, but 2 main people. They toured and toured around the land, the continent and maybe even in the sky. They always played really loud and fast and everyone who knew them loved them. But then, an evil beer bottle attacked the drummer of the band! He cut his hand open and needed 5 stiches. 5 stitches, not one more, not one less. He was able to play but in pain. Terrible pain. It appeared DeeCracks' luck had turned.
But fortunately, the booking Gods provided them with 3 acoustic shows. So Mike DeeCrack, the drummer of whom I spoke, could rest his hand. He rested while Matt DeeCracks, who played guitar and sang their joyful songs, played the set of songs in an acoustic way. The kingdom was impressed. They had never expected that it would be actually good, because DeeCracks music is particularly created to be played electric, fast and loud. But Matt's hoarse, raspy voice trembled through the castle of Nijlen, de Kroenkel. It trembled in our ears and it made us feel warm inside and it delighted us. Although the songs seemed a bit odd and out of place, Maat DeeCrack pulled it off to deliver a powerful and enjoyabel set. The attendants applauded, cheered and exchanged hand-to-hand gestures to express common agreeance.

Part 2: The Savant American who Appeared to be a Doktor.
The kingdom went to grab beverages at the bar, but after a while the stage was encaptured again. Not only was the whole room decorated with lovely pieces of extraordinary art by Andrea Mange (of the clan of The Manges), Stefan Tijs (heir of the Stardumb empire) and Kepi Ghoulie (a musical wizard - some say he bleeds rock'n'roll), but there also appeared to be another bard, a very admirable bard I must say.
It was Frank Portman, under his moniker Dr. Frank, who was shining there, on that stage. And he started to play and there was a general delight. The citizens requested classic songs from the long-disbanded touring tribe The Mr. T Experience, and Dr. Frank provided the songs as best as he could remember - The MTX were around for a long time and they had a lot of songs in their archives. He delighted us with these classics that the citizens all helped to sing, and he added some of his recent ventures on the solo route.
This Dr. Frank seemed to be a very charismatic singer and he was able to play a full set without boring anyone, I would guess. Some say he is the greatest songwriting in the punk (ba)roque era, and although that is a rather daring statement, no one knows how far we are from the truth.

Part 3: The Returning American with the Blood of Rock'nRoll
After a quick but necessary interruption - and a visit to the vomitorium for me - the final act of the night would bestow its talents upon us. This travelling misfit went by the name of Kepi Ghoulie. If one was to ask him how he was doing, he would sincerely answer: "I'm doing fine, so leave me alone." He is a gentle man, however, and he was ever so excited to perform his musique for us.
People from all over the kingdom were gathered there now, and as Kepi was to begin, some brave man shouted out. "Stormy Weather!" it resonated through the room. And so Kepi played the songs. He seamlessly played songs, some by request, some by own initiative. He invited a lovely dame to the stage to play this magical board of keys that produced soundwaves. He did his utter best to create what would later be known as a "rock'n'roll party" to which we were gladly participating.
The compositions of Kepi were drawn from various eras in history. Classic traditional songs such as The Beast With Five Hands (which handles the topic of loving a monsters rather than slaying it on a quest - very eye-opening) as well as songs from the post-Groovie Ghoulies dispansion were chanted, and when the end was near Kepi even tackled some songs by other musicians, for example Billy Bragg of England.
It is not entirely certain if the man who calls himself Kepi actually physically bleeds rock and/or roll, but metaphorically we can assume so.

And so I want to conclude the tale of the nomads with guitars, travelling around the world in search of happiness and rock music.

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