… marooned in the wrong century. Five dungaree clad musicians: Manu, Karpie, Saskia, Koockie and Reymond. All of whom delight in playing music of a certain medieval vintage. All of whom have hair hanging in long thick waves. However, when it comes to facial hair there is a strict gender divide: men only. The feeling among them all that a woman’s (sexual) allure is diminished by a moustache or beard. You can be the most determinedly non-sexist of communities, take all the drugs in the world to break down social conditioning, and still be left with quite unshakable beliefs.
*
Man needs good music.
Medieval trance music is good music.
Man therefore needs…
– Repeat after me Finny-boy, says Calculus, a sucker for syllogistic logic and medieval trance music.
*
The Sulanna Tribe are a direct casualty of the Non-Electronic Trance Rave Prohibition Act (2026). Their acoustic sets incurred the displeasure of Josef A. Being pro-folk and openly hostile to electronic music, the band never stood a chance.
Upon learning of the band’s plight, Calculus and Martha invited the musicians to come and live at the château. Announcing to me that ‘our family has grown overnight.’
The Kommune was to be an improved version of the family model, able to select its own members according to their personality and skill sets.
The invitation extended to the musicians was not entirely altruistic. Calculus’s exceptionally high level of fitness can’t last indefinitely. He could envisage a time when he would struggle to carry out domestic chores. A helping hand, actually several of these, would soon become a necessity. Certainly it would never be coming from my parents. Having found a way of outsourcing parenting they point blank refuse to leave the mountain’s shadow side. They are well and truly ensconced with The Colours, a community making buttons from bone and upholstering furniture in reptile skin. Wacky even by our standards.
Calculus could not rely on Martha’s contribution to the communal workload, especially on the physical side. Slow is the snake bite’s release of venom, but there is no knowing when it might speed up.
The entire Sulanna Tribe turned out to be grafters, labouring hard, spending long hours in the sun and thereby turning their skin crocodile tough. There is no shirking from work in the lotti; their artistic credentials not entitling them to slope off early. Lottie work always completed before they begin performances, which take place in the château or surrounding fields. They sense a great spiritual energy coursing through Mount Wilders which they delightedly tap into. Chakras renewed by both music and the mountain.
They play beautifully and afterwards make invocations to assure good crops. This is no bountiful land but there are several springs, without which it would be impossible to eke out a living. The relationship of plants, animals, people, water. Critical to our survival.
*
A disparate bunch of accomplished individuals that fuse in performance to become The Sulanna Tribe.
Ladies and Gentlemen… without further ado… let me properly introduce the band who’re guaranteed to raise a smile. Cue drum roll.
Mean and maudlin… Manu on hurdy-gurdy.
Temptress of lovelorn adolescents… Karpie on mandolin and lead vocals.
Collector of emerald skinned lizards, Hatha Yoga practitioner and pranayama adept (breath control as a means of concentrating the mind)… Saskia on flute.
Practical joker par excellence… Koockie on drums.
Inveterate smoker of crazy chillums and amasser of of peculiar pipes inside his beflagged and smoky yurt… Reymond on bass and user of gaudy hookahs, watching the bubbles while his thoughts too bubble away.
Reymond’s pipes…
… amount to an inventory of his personal worth. Has a good collection of folksy meerschaums. The most unusual pipe he possesses is a fossilized toad. To afford the smoky air free passage he carved channels from its insides.
Favourite reading material: How to take part in Lakota ceremonies. Purloined from Martha’s yurt.
Inhale deep, gesture big. That is the secret, he says
– Come inhale my boy, come join me for a ceremonial smoke.
To date i have resisted such entreaties.
Calculus and Martha were pleased as punch to see me taking a strong interest in the musicians and their instruments.
Their melodies, said Calculus, ‘being natural fractions in music form.’
To which Martha added, so as to balance the educative yin with the educative yang, ‘charms to sooth a savage breast.’