Suomen kieli on kieltämättä suomalainenkin

Keskiyön auringon lauluja
Songs of the Midnight Sun

Martti, Marjatta & Eveliina Pokela

A: Songs from Lapland
B: Folk music

"A Finnish riddle asks 'What is born in the woods, grows in the home, stands on the wall and sings on the knee?' The right answer, of course, is the kantele. The 5-stringed 'Väinämöinen kantele' is essentially associated with the traditions of Finnish folk music. It is a simple instrument to be plucked with the fingers, and has been played among people of Finnish stock living along the coasts of the Baltic and the Gulf of Finland. According to research, it is about 2000 years old. The 5-stringed kantele has been used to play rune, song and dance melodies, but the ancient Finns used the instrument also for rune-song accompaniment and for improvisations. The charming tones of this outwardly modest little instrument created a rare atmosphere in the smoke cabins where runic melodies from the Kalevala were still being sung as recently as last century."
SFLP 8500, 1969

Seitsemän auringon yö
The Night of the Seven Suns

Matti A. Pitkänen, Airi Hast, Rauno Ruotsinsalo

Weilin+Göös 1966

Naapuripitäjäläisiä

"Neighbour folks"

Tar grabbers, shit trousers, grand ones, rail heads, slice bellies, straw soggies, nutters, horn heads, jam boots, sledgers, summer gruel brewers, pretty ones, soup baskets, oat arses, manger bags, yellow bellies, bear rowers, church guests, dog cookers, showy ones, church patchers, spawning congregaters, pussy cockies, smut brows, wood bags, fresh calf whippers, gougers, wave-beaten, cowshoers, horseflies, wool balls, pig milkers, crow friers, death killers, body snatchers, horse thieves, hopeless ones, lagging bell ringers, goat slayers, wife swappers, barley seed eaters, big bangers, sour milk scales, straw shins, devil burners, wood bell ringers, halfwits, bone throats, spark hats, spud munchers, tar barrels, tar taps, batter pipes, cat tail stretchers, pig thieves, knot tails, brave and wise, priest stoners, leather net stealers, tarred church men, sheet smiths

Rinta-Perälä

My first album.
Classical. Chamber organ and string orchestra.

Music and production by Rinta-Perälä.
The beginning of "Laulu" is traditional.
Cover photo was taken in my home village Perälä.

Download FLAC
https://soundcloud.com/rinta-perala/

On my gravestone

He was nothing compared to knitting.

Another pointless trip to the cemetery.

Lurking permitted.

Wait for it.

Smells like a class act.

Our salt on senses

I'm not sure if you exist. Not without parasitic thoughts.
Parasitic thoughts on a tireless quest for satire.

Intimate indications and disturbed rainbows.
Exhibition of some common sense by exhausted muses.

Kangaroo footprints in the desert tonight depending on the wind.
Flattering nonsense to late bloomers tomorrow depending on the mind.

Scented mementos from the spare shiver workshop.
Radiant matter of precision madness.

Possible confession of the repressive.
Real surrealists and surreal realists.

Rinta-Perälä interviews himself

Do you realise how great you are?
I'll congratulate myself in the shower.

What was your nickname at school?
Peppermint Cream.

Do you have a recurring dream?
W. C. Fields climbs a ladder and shouts, "come here, you little coconut!"

What are you afraid of?
Can not answer. Fear singing. Mind thinking static.

What is your favourite texture?
Pureed eggs.

What would be the title of your autobiography?
Six inches of dignity.

Any advice?
When someone tickles you, say ow.

What would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
Don't you know who I am?

Oldies But Boldies

"Don't Rub My Junk Up the Wrong Way" by Richard Stolz

"Let's Use Our Inside Fingers" by Whiffy Goldspatter

"Hello Mother, Hello Your Honor" by The Downrights

"Are You Worth Looking at Later?" by Dick Dodger & Maya Schollisred

"Pussy Wants a Cucumber" by Mary Anther

My word

The opposite is not always true.

Pride can't walk on its own.

Flags won't do justice to anything.

Never put all your atoms in one bomb.

We are all born afraid but only some of us die itching.

Have a very vague Christmas

Why do I cry?

I cry whenever I see condoms exploited.

I cry, therefore I dribble.

I cry because bananas stole my thunder.

I cry in order to stretch my puffy face.

I cry tears of joy when oriental discretion is advised.

I cry because I'm unemployed and these eyebrows need shampoo.

I cry a puddle and call it a career.

Things I Appreciate

Tiny children with husky voices.

Confused looks on iconic faces.

Awards for kissy lip service.

The boredom of standardised success.

Eye-opening lunges.

The front of a place in the back and the place in the back of the front.

Just browsing.

Sanitised life clearing its throat on a flight of stairs.

Cynical smirks on a sinking ship.

Getting a runny nose from spiced up compliments.

Lovely things you can say without lips

Those daisies crush all deathly notions.

I understand. That is not the only delicacy concerning the clergy.

Hand out your cheerless cares directly to a tickle artist.

I hardly curse sailors to hell.

The next decade should know it.

I saw your randy granddaddy staring at tourists.

That Kirk Douglas sure neatens the indolent.

Neglected Music Surplus

"Love in the Cake Hole" by Naked Relatives

"People Need Help Like I Need Money" by The Hallowed Alliance Ensemble

"Come Here and Fight Like a Turkey" by Hank Havesome

"Tax, Wax & Relax" by Pope Innocent Enough II

"That's Not a Carrot, This Is a Carrot" by Wobbly Wizard

"Adolf Hitler Had a Farm", an Atlantean military rhyme

"Them Babies Don't Work No More" by Beh Beh

"Methinks I Wrote Paradise Lost" by Pungent Mirth

"I Lost My Mother (Fucking Mind)" by Patsy Cline

"These Nuts Have Already Cracked" by The Imperial Quiz Board

"Never Trust a Stranger with Your Face" by Iffy Sibylla

"We Are the Children" by The Whack Balls

"Cheap Fire" by Free Heat

"I Will Always Love Eggs" by Gordon Gurion Goodthrough

Droppings in a mouthful

Is it ecumenical to use anointments for cleaning tables?

Does Satan blog in Hell's steamy glow?

Never forget the strange case of slippery playboy's misty eyebrows.

Face the Mice - Crisis Management for Elephants in Rooms.

I can't believe I'm the only one who's thinking about God when I'm clutching my crucifix.

The best part of shooting people in the testicles is lifting up the penis.

Atheism is the greatest hobby.

Y'all come back now verbatim.

Pieces of Finnish folk poetry

DEATH

"viekeä minua maata
tupatkate tuutumahan
kirkon kirjatun sivuun
satalauan lappeasen
tervaporstuan poveen
lihavaan luumäkeen
vierelle vihannan nurmen:
siell on äiä äänetöntä
paljo paksua väkeä."

"take me to lie down
lay me down to sleep
at the side of the bright church
beside the hundred-boarded
right inside the tarry porch
on the fat bone-hill
beside the lush grass:
there many silent folk are
crowded together."

- The Dying Maid from Finnish Folk Poetry: Epic

 "Surma syömättä eleä,
maan kumma makoamatta,
kova onni kostumatta,
kalma ilman kasvamatta,
kova onni kuolematta"

Death lives without eating,
earth's adversity without rest,
ill luck without enlivenment,
grave without growing,
ill luck without loss

- Suomen kansan vanhat runot XV