Below is Martin's account of the incident that inspired the lyrics - and the music:
“For several hours the train bumped and roared through the Sri Lankan tropical night with only few stops. Suddenly it slowed down to almost dead speed. This was not unusual on the old and worn rails, but when the lights and the ventilation shut off, the shabby cart quickly felt like a humid coffin. Why were we slowing down; there were no stations here? Outside in the pitch black night, distant bonfires appeared and formed a makeshift portico of light along the rails. Figures dressed in white appeared in the dark and for several miles we were escorted by a procession of what must have been hundreds of mourning Sinhalese.”
“The morning after, a national newspaper displayed a grim parade of mutilated corpses; men, women, and children alike, aligned on the hospital floor. Sixty-four dead and many more wounded. Right there in then same hospital we passed with our guidebooks and sunscreen a few hours later. To underpin the tragedy, it turned out that the attacked bus had been filled with people, many from the same family, going to a funeral. This was an obvious irony. More tepid was the fact that we were there as strange tourists, obviously frightened and perhaps even exited by the stench of unmediated human suffering.”
‘Claymore 64’ is both a musical testimonial and a call for action against landmines.
Read the press release or listen to Claymore 64 now.
No comments:
Post a Comment