Tom Landa: News

Hi all,

Just wanted to write you all and let you know of a few gigs I have coming up and let you know what has been going one with me.

2009 has been an amazing year so far. It all started with the birth of my son Joah back in January. Since then I have continued to receive blessing after blessing. The year has been filled with friends, family, bountiful food, wine, travel, laughter and great music. For the exception of a quick trip to Mexico in February, I mostly been holed up in a recording studio working on three simultaneous projects. The first one is the forthcoming Paperboys CD called 'Callithump', the other two are solo projects. One will be a singer songwriter CD and the other will be the much requested and anticipated Latin Project. I am calling that project 'Locarno' and it will focus mostly on original and traditional Mexican material. Having said that, it will also borrow from other Latin music genres such as Son Cubano, Cumbia and Flamenco.

The man in charged of producing all these projects is producer extraordinaire Joby Baker, who in short is the dog's bullocks. It has been a great pleasure and inspiration working with him. He is based out of Victoria BC which means I have made several trips to the island and like it so much I would consider moving here.

I will have a super busy summer gigging with The Paperboys in support of the new CD. I urge you to come out and see the band this summer if you can. Check out our schedule and all things p'boys at http://www.paperboys.com/
OK, so here are a couple of solo gigs I have coming up. Thanks for sigining up for the mailing list and as always, thanks for your support.

Cheers ya'll,
Tom

A VERY SPECIAL HOUSE CONCERT
with Tom Landa of the Paperboys
Saturday May 30th 2009

RIVER HAUS IN THE PINES
BED AND BREAKFAST
9690 East Leavenworth Road
Leavenworth WA 98826

An amazingly beautiful and elegant riverfront location, just minutes from the famous Bavarian village of Leavenworth WA, is the setting for this very intimate evening of acoustic music with Tom.

Space is limited so make your reservations now with our hosts,
Mike & Cindy Hendricks.

Reservations and information at riverhausinthepines.com
or by calling 509-548-9690
_________________________________________________________

June 22 - Guys Play Girls. Railway Club Vancouver.
Peak FM Presents: Guys Play Girls
Male singer songwriters pick a female singer/songwriter and play 3 of her songs. Other artists will include Dustin Bental, Shaun Verreault, Reid Jamieson and more.
All proceeds go to the MS Society of Canada.

Hey all,

Just a quick note here to tell you what I am working on and what has been going on.

Well, the year has flown by and I can't believe 2008 is already closing in. I've had a very busy year with my band The Paperboys, touring the length and width of the planet, (or so it seems to me). We played all over Europe including gigs in Germany, Holland, Switzerland, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Poland, Belgium and The UK. We also played a ton of shows throughout the US and Canada. My frequent flyer miles are at an all time high!

I also had the chance to travel through Asia for a couple of months hitting Thailand, Vietnam and Japan. In addition to this, I also visited my old stomping grounds of Mexico for a couple of weeks.

The purpose of these trips were non musical and mostly for photographic purposes. I intend on mounting another photo exhibit show in the spring and summer of 2009. In the meantime you can view these photos and those of my European tours on my flickr site by going to http://www.flickr.com/photos/tomlanda
I will be adding more pics to my photo gallery soon so check back in the coming weeks.

This summer also saw me working on a new Paperboys CD and in the coming months I will also be starting work on a solo CD. Once again, I will keep you posted and upload some MP3's here on the site once it's ready.

I will be busy with band gigs until the end of the year but will be doing a few solo shows in February of 2009. The gigs are listed on the calendar section of the webpage.

Well, I think that is all the news that is fit to print right now. I will write another wee update soon.

I am wishing peace, happiness and love to you all.

Slainte,
Tom

Hope everyone enjoyed the long weekend. I wanted to let you know about the opening of a small photo exhibit I am currently showing. All of the photos have been taken during my travels in Cuba, Mexico and Italy. It is my first show so I am pretty excited!

Here are the details:

Thursday September 6 (This Thursday!)
Higher Grounds Coffee Shop -3301 West 4th Ave in Kitsilano
6:00 to 8:00 PM.

Wine and finger foods will be available.

Please RSVP by email if you are interested in coming.

For those of you who can't make it you can view many of the photographs on the photo section of this page.

Hope to see you there.

Tom

Hey all,

Just wanted to let you know that some of my photographs are showing in Vancouver at Higher Grounds Coffee -3301 West 4th Ave.

It is my first show so I am pretty happy and excited. All prints are on sale and will be displayed until late September.

There will be an official opening with music, wine etc. I will post details on that later.

Hope you get a chance to stop by and have a look.

Cheers!
Tom

This is a story I wrote back in 2003.

Cowbells and Jingle Bells


Growing up in Mexico the religious aspect of Christmas was always present - nativity scenes, Christmas Mass, effigies to Christ and so on. Although this was all around it was a foreign concept to me. Raised by an atheist father - a rarity in Latin America -Christmas in our household had more to do with toys than a holy day.

Once I had reached a certain age and the Santa bubble burst, the meaning of Christmas became more about the importance of family and the reunions with my twenty Mexican aunts, uncles and cousins. Even this was short-lived however, as my parents' divorce brought me to Canada in my teens where Christmas dinners now just included my mother, my two siblings and I.

As an adult I've tried to find new meaning to the Christmas holidays, one without religious influence, flying reindeer, or mass consumerism. But what does this leave me? What does this season mean? Should I just give up on Christmas and celebrate winter solstice? What is the spirit of Christmas? These were my questions on December of 2001, but it wasn't the answers that surprised me, it was where and how I found them


It was Christmas eve and I found myself in Puerto Rico with my wife, my best friend and his bride. They were married only a week earlier, so I guess you could say I was crashing their honeymoon. We had spent the week of their wedding on a cruise sailing all through the Caribbean, surrounded by his friends and family and an abundance of food and decadence. It was now a welcome change to walk around the quaint and quiet colonial streets of Puerto Rico after the mayhem of buffet lines and screaming kids by the pool. We were in the seaside town of Boqueron where we all checked in to a nice little hotel near the beach and walking distance to downtown.

That night we had gone out for dinner and spent the evening wrapped in conversation followed by a walk in the town square where we fed stray dogs and watched Puerto Rican life unfold around us. Upon returning to our hotel we heard some music and laughter coming from a home only a few doors down. Although we had planned on going to sleep, temptation and curiosity got the best of us and we went to investigate where this joyous music was coming from.

The music as it turns out was coming from a band who was set up on a make shift stage on the front patio of somebody's home. Most homes in Puerto Rico are colourfully painted in a simple but elegant style. They are usually gated and have bars on the windows. Some people choose to park their cars in the patio space between the front gate and their front door, but tonight this space gave way to a fiesta that was in full swing when we came around the corner to investigate.

There in the warm December night were children, aunts, uncles, and friends all getting down to the tropical sounds of Bomba, Plena and Salsa. The band which was not a professional outfit but more of a conjunto of dads, uncles and cousins, were as hot as the Caribbean sun. The ever present cowbell kept the band in time and the dancers in tow. All the call and response songs that evening were in honour of Christmas and half of them were improvised on the spot. My friend Steve (who is also a musician) and I were drawn to the exotic rhythms and awed by the sound coming from this band and so desperately wanted to join in.

As we peeked in from the outside, eyes and ears open wide with curiosity and wonder, I figured it was a matter of time before the owner of this home asked us foreigners to leave.

As predicted, 3 pale faced 'turistas' and I were starting to draw attention from the party goers. It wasn't long before Jose, the owner of the home came up to see us. I was sure the words "move along we are having a private party here" were soon to follow. Much to my delight and surprise the first words from him were "pasen por favor" "Please come in". We graciously accepted his offer and went through the gate and stepped into a world so different from our own. Within seconds drinks were placed in our hands, food was being ladled onto plates for us, introductions were being made and we were welcome as family members who were a little late getting to the party. What followed was one of the most enjoyable and memorable nights of my life.

With broken English and broken Spanish we were getting to know our new friends and they were getting to know more of where we came from and who we were. We danced (although admittedly nowhere as well as our hosts) drank, ate, laughed, and for a couple hours were members of Jose's extended family.

It was way past midnight and there were no signs of police officers wanting to bust up the party nor were there any phone calls from angry neighbours asking us to keep it down. A party like that is just the norm there. The band's groove never stopped all night, and whenever one of the members needed a bathroom brake or wondered over to the food table, some other cousin or uncle stepped in to replace him without ever losing the beat.

Well I guess they could tell Steve and I were just dying to sit in and try our hand at the cowbell and assorted percussion toys because we were motioned to come over and join in. Steve and I jumped at the chance to join the fun with grins from oreja to oreja. We kept up with these musicians as best we could, exchanging smiles and nods with them and sharing in the home made rum they were passing around. We played for what seemed to be an hour or so until my untrained cowbell playing hand was about to fall off.

As the hours rolled by and the early morning light introduced itself, fatigue kicked in and we began to say our goodbyes and thanked our hosts for a beautiful evening.

That night I fell into bed exhausted and content right down to the core.
Christmas came the next day and the sun and the 80 degree weather made it feel more like a day at the beach in July than the one day you look forward to the most when you are 10 years old. As we drank our cafes con leche and ate our canillos that following morning, I realized I had finally found the true spirit of Christmas. It had nothing to do with gifts, or snowmen, or religious ceremonies or lights on trees but more to do with the kindness and generosity of strangers. The kind that invite 4 people they have never seen or met to eat at their table, drink their rum, and for a night make them feel like someone they have known all their lives.

Only a few months had passed sine September 11th and I was reminded that in a world where there can be horror and sadness there can also be love, kindness and generosity. It reminds me that globally our similarities far outweigh our differences.

So it was there and then where I found a new meaning to Christmas. It is a memory I have with me year round and one I recall when I get a little discouraged by life's hardships. It reminds me that the spirit of Christmas is alive and well-at least in the little seaside town of Boqueron in Puerto Rico, far away from the North Pole, shopping malls or Bethlehem.

This is a story I wrote in the fall of 2007.

Swahili for beginners

In my list of life goals I have written that I would like to learn a few different languages.

Italian because it is beautiful.
German because it comes in handy when I visit there every year.
Japanese because I think I would be good at it, and it will also come in handy when I tour there.
French because it is the language of love, and because the next time I am in Paris and they are incredibly rude to me, I will at least be able to understand them.

Last on my list of languages is one that would be kind of useless to me, and one I would only learn so I can sound impressive at one of those dinner gatherings with pedantic scholars.

That language for me is Swahili, mostly because to say I speak Swahili sounds exotic, and impressive, and because I just like the word Swahili. I like the way it moves through my tongue and pass my lips.

To date I have learned enough German to find out what platform my train will be leaving from, ask for a non smoking room and order a sandwich without senf (or without mustard)

I have made no attempt at French just yet, and instead speak English with a French accent in hopes the French will miraculously understand me. This means I walk around Paris asking what time it is in English sounding like Inspector Clusoe or Pepe Le Pew.

I know how to count to ten in Japanese along with a couple of other words I've learned from Karate and eating at sushi restaurants.

I can say thanks, cheers, hello and my name is in a number of languages including: Greek, Portuguese, Finish, Danish, Russian, Czech and of course Spanish and English which I am fluent in. Or at least I'd like to think so.

However, other than the Lion King teaching me Akuna Matata I have not made any effort to learn Swahili.

That is until recently when the man sitting next to me on a Vancouver bound plane decided to strike up a conversation with me.

His friendly demeanour won me over and we fell into conversation. This is odd because I usually try my hardest to not talk to the person sitting next to me. I just don't want to be stuck talking to someone for 10 hours who bores me to death, or has bad breath or having to make small talk with someone who has nothing in common with me.

I found that if someone does start talking to me and they inevitably ask me what I do, I find it best to not tell them I am a musician. When I do, this really interests them and they want to talk to you even more. It is then that they usually tell you about their nephew or son or friend who is also a musician.

That conversation usually goes like this: "Oh you are a musician, my nephew Jeremy plays the drums. Do you know him?"

I am usually polite and ask for his last name or name of his band and the conversation ends shortly after that. The worse kind of passenger to sit next to are the the ones who say that they too play and instrument.

Oh Fuck.

This is why now when I am asked what it is that I do I say I work in a funeral home or work as a dental hygienist. This tends to end the conversation right there and they quickly return to their sudoku puzzle or Dan Brown novel.

If you are reading this and you happen to be a dental hygienist or work at a funeral home, please don't take it personally, but dude, they are just lame professions.

So once my new friend and I had been talking for about 25 minutes we went through the where are you from? where were you born? questions.

It turns out my buddy Zahur was born and raised in Kenya. Zahur was as friendly as they come and a very interesting fella. Born in Africa but of Indian decent, he was raised in Kenya, moved around a bunch and ended up in Vancouver where he now is an optician by day and ....you guessed it, a musician by night.

We had a lovely chat and for once I really enjoyed talking to the person next to me. He in turn was quite interested in my band and my background.

After our conversation was starting to wind down I asked if he'd mind giving me a quick lesson in Swahili. He was surprised that someone would want to learn Swahili but was happy to teach me a few words.

I am glad I had a chance to meet him, and maybe this will teach me to be a little less close minded about the stranger sitting next to me.

So here it is for all you folks who would like to learn a little Swahili to impress your next date or those fancy degree types. Courtesy of Zahur and the folks of West -Jet Airlines.

Nina Penda Wewe -- I love you
Roho -- Heart or Love
Fahama --To understand
Mvua (the m is silent)- Rain
Jam Bo -- Hello
Kua Heri -- Goodbye
Asante --Thank You
Asante Sana --Thank you very much
Tafaldhi --Please
Jina Yangu ni --My name is
Jina Yako --What..s yours?
Tafauta -- Different

And finally the one word we all learned from the Lion King:
Akuna Matata --No worries, No problems