(Guitar music)
(Singing) Don’t want to preach to no one tonight
Just want to tell my tale
When the sun will rise tomorrow
It will shed a light on some facts from hell
Clouds are floating in the sky
Shift the mood so fast
Like on the streets of Jerusalem
Where the quiet’s not meant to last
I'm gonna find you tonight
I'm gonna count from one to three
I'm gonna feel the peace within me
With you right here next to me
I was born into this reality
I was brought up with a war
It doesn’t mean I must accept this
Don’t wanna fight no more
Young people from all over
Stray away and cross the lines
It’s a dialogue that we’re seeking
And we’re running out of time
I'm gonna find you tonight
I'm gonna count from one to three
I'm gonna feel the peace within me
With you right here next to me
I'm gonna find you tonight
I'm gonna count from one to three
I'm gonna feel the peace within me
With you right here next to me
I'm gonna find you tonight
I'm gonna count from one to three
I'm gonna feel the peace within me
With you right here next to me
With you right here
Next to me
(Singing and music ends)
(Applause)
Thank you.
It's a real honor to be here, be part of this wonderful day,
listening to so many inspiring stories and discoveries.
My discovery is just the power of music really,
and it has taken me 38 years of a career
to really understand it, and to bring it forward, and to use it,
not just here in Jerusalem, in Israel, in the Middle East but wherever I go.
I don't mean to fix the world,
and I don't think that I'm going to change the world at all,
I'm going to change my world, and this is what makes me happy.
I started my career 38 years ago.
I started just by playing love songs, I still play love songs.
But it's those places where I play those love songs
that make a difference for me.
And I think, and I hope, and I try to make a difference on others
as I entertain and play in some impossible situations:
could be by a bedside in a hospital, could be in a war zone,
could be just in an accident area,
or just some bereaved people, and parents, and friends.
But this story that I want to tell you, briefly,
which belongs to an album actually,
and this song that I just sang, "One to Three", is the first song
that I wrote for this album.
It's an album that is called "East Jerusalem West Jerusalem".
It wasn't really the name I thought this would be,
but it's how it happened and how it worked out to be.
I'd been working all my life
- besides doing music and playing -
in manifestations, being socially active,
but I never talked about it, I never really recorded it,
never really wanted to profess about it, or brag about it.
But this is a time when I felt that I could, and I had to.
I've been working here in East Jerusalem
for the past 16 years, since 1999.
I don't know if I should call it work.
Most of the time, me and my friends,
who are very prominent Palestinian musicians and artists,
I don't think we play music most of the time.
We have coffee, we have a lot of kebab, a lot of salads,
a lot of downtime; most of the time, we just hang out.
And I'm always ready with my guitar to sit and play,
but there is also something that you learn about building a relationship,
and that is building a relationship:
caring about those who you're with, listening to them, laughing,
making stupid jokes even on the most awkward situations
of which there are so many here in the Middle East.
We've been through Intifadas and we've been through wars,
and we've always kept together.
I've always come up from Tel Aviv - which is my home -
driving into East Jerusalem,
feeling the safest I could ever feel amongst my friends and my peers.
Sixteen years of this friendship,
calmly and actually in a very Middle Eastern fashion
which, I think, the motto of it, somewhat of like the Spaniards,
who, I've learned to know over the years, always use the "mañana" term,
as to "Don't rush, can do it tomorrow."
Well, here in the Middle East, we say, in Arabic one says, "Shwy shwy."
Slowly, slowly, one step at a time.
See, as an Israeli, I want to tick it all at once.
I have an idea, I want to have it, haven't happened the next day.
But that is not the way things are.
It's not only about Palestine, or Israel, or Middle East,
this would be the same about any of the indigenous people around the world.
Ancient people have much longer time to figure things out.
So about four years ago, one of my friends, a Palestinian musician,
said to me, "So, David, when are you going to bring that project of yours together
that you've talked about so many times ever so often?"
I was just waiting for that.
Because I thought I was the one who had the burning fire in me to get it happen.
Well, he didn't finish that sentence,
and already my head was working in triple mode,
I was running in my head, "How do I do it?"
So I started writing songs.
I told them, "Don't worry, I'll bring the production here into the studio."
And I started writing songs,
the first of which is the one I opened this conversation with, "One to Three".
I wrote more songs,
and all of them came out in English, and all of them were telling the story.
To some degree, it's a personal story mixed with love,
to some degree, it's anxiety, anxiousness,
wanting to see the end to war,
I don't know how and why it so happened.
But then I had to recruit and bring
the musicians and the production into place.
I thought, you know, that the music would be the biggest obstacle.
All these years I've been out here
in East Jerusalem, with my Palestinian friends,
it was just me from Tel Aviv, sometime my kids, my wife,
but I was alone.
None of my musicians ever really accepted an invitation.
They were rather reluctant to come
when they found out they were busy doing other things.
But this time, as I was progressing with this production,
I thought, OK, let's tackle the first hurdle,
let's see if my Israeli band would come from Tel Aviv for once
and see what I see, feel what I feel, and experience this wonderful place,
and the comradery that can be built and that can be a bridge,
and that can make us happier and feel safer with each other.
So on a way to show in this crammed van,
as I was portraying to my friends what music I was writing,
and that I was about to go to the studio to produce the next album,
I could see that their ears were perked
and they were really eager to be part of it,
but I was not inviting them yet, I just got their interest, all focused.
A day later, on another trip to a show,
I told them, "I'm thinking of inviting you, guys, to this production."
And everybody is, "Yes! So cool!
We can't wait to do an album once again with you."
I said, "Yeah, but we're going to do it in the studio in East Jerusalem,
It's a Palestinian studio."
And right away, the conversation went elsewhere.
Suddenly, we were talking about general news issues
and just nerve-wrecking stories that were not of interest to me.
Anyhow, I realized that I'm going to have to work a little longer.
The following day, I'm asking,
"OK, I'm thinking of really booking the studio now. I'd like you to come."
They said, "Well...
Suddenly, and for the first time,
- see, we're a bunch of men in this band of mine,
and, well, rock-and-rollers are supposedly tough guys -
and suddenly, there is, "Well, OK...
- unanimously -
we're going to ask our wives."
(Laughter)
OK, tough guys.
(Laughter)
The next day, I wait.
I mean, we're in a crammed van, no one can get away here.
And they say, "Well, the wives are kind of reluctant, you know,
they don't want to be left alone just with the kids..."
So I'm saying, "Wait a second.
First of all, I promise you we're going to do it in 8 days."
Normally, an album can take weeks, months. "We're going to do it in 8 days."
The only reason I said "8 days" is that if I'd said "a week",
nobody would believe me we could do it in a week.
"Eight days," that sounds like a real, you know
(Laughter)
affordable and relaxed time to make an album.
They said, "OK, well, you know, we'll ask..."
I said, "No, no. Just tell your wives that they're welcome to come.
There is a wonderful hotel nearby, and I'll take rooms for everyone."
So the wives, the next day, the message that I got was
there was nobody who could take care of the kids.
I said, "What? In-laws? Parents? Cousins?
Bring them too! Just bring the whole neighbourhood!
(Laughter)
Let's make it into a real event."
Anyway, sure enough, I got them to commit.
Now I had to get a producer.
If I'm going to get a producer, it'd better be, maybe, an American one,
because it is all in English, I want it to be Americana,
more American-flavored, internationally-flavored.
So I started making lists, and I thought,
"OK, if I'm going to turn to every producer I want,
most of them will say no
because they aren't comfortable coming to Israel because of the boycott.
I'll go to the most extreme one first,
the one who I respect his views, but I know he's a hard one to crack."
So I called Steve Earle.
He's one of the most respected singers-songwriters and opinion makers,
and a real activist.
I called him first, I knew he would be off the list immediately.
I didn't finish the sentence that I want to bring
Israeli and Palestinian musicians in the studio in East Jerusalem,
and he said, "Hey, man! I'm on. When? Just tell me."
"Wait! I don't even have a budget."
"Forget the budget. I'm just coming."
So now I had him.
I announced to the Israeli musicians, "OK, guys, we're on."
I set the date for January 20, 2013.
Now I had to convince my Palestinian musicians.
This was a bit of a hurdle.
Some of them come under a lot of pressure.
So I figured even if they don't come, I'll just be there with my musicians.
But what I will do is I will bring Israeli and Palestinian chefs
who'd make us incredible banquets every night with Michelin food,
superb Israeli wine, even whiskey
for those who really want to drink and just get loosened up.
And you know what?
After the first night, when we had over 100 people around the table,
- including the film crew because I made a film out of it,
under the same name "East Jerusalem West Jerusalem" -
we had all the musicians, the engineers, and the waiters,
and then the friends, and friends of friends,
and family, and wives, and children,
everybody was there, I almost booked the entire hotel.
We spent eight days and eight nights, and those Palestinian friends came,
and sure enough, after a couple of glasses of wine and good food,
walked into the studio, and we started playing together.
And eight days later, lo and behold,
I had my most beautiful album recorded together with these people.
It was like a miraculous moment,
it was as if we had created an utopic bubble in our world.
Now what we had to do is get on with it and sing to the rest of the world
which is what I'm doing now traveling around the world.
(Applause)
Thank you so much.
It's very inspiring,
and the most important thing for me was to inspire others
to dare, to go over that threshold, don't be afraid.
I don't know if you are a doctor, an architect, a masseuse,
a poet, a philosopher; just engage!
Engage with out neighbours,
with our friends across the street, across the wall, across any place,
whether you're in Israel, Palestine, whether you're in Colombia, in Mexico,
whether you're in the Latin quarters in some, so to speak, bad neighborhood,
don't be afraid!
Don't be afraid to cross over.
We're only people, and everybody wants the same thing:
to feel safe by knowing each other, or feeling each other out,
and knowing what to watch out for.
Don't believe the stories, make them yourselves.
(Applause)
I started with the most recent song that I've recorded.
I would like to, perhaps, conclude this part of mine,
and perhaps, the entire event - I believe I'm concluding the event -
with the first song I ever recorded.
This is the song I wrote in 1977, 38 years ago.
It was November, when the President Anwar Sadat of Egypt
set foot on Israeli soil for the first time.
Watching this happen [was] the most unbelievable moment
for my generation and others, my parents' generation, and grandparents'.
I was with my good friend, Israeli poet Yehonatan Geffen,
watching this,
as he was writing down feverishly this poem,
and then handed it to me, and said, "Why don't you write music?"
As if saying, "Do something with your life, you know." (Laughter)
"You're sitting and just watching."
So I wrote music to it, he gave me two days.
And hence, I wrote this song called "Things Will Be Better",
as we say, "Yihye Tov".
(Guitar music)
(Applause)
(Singing in Hebrew) I'm looking out the window
And it makes me kind of sad
Spring has long gone, who knows if it'll return
The clown has become a king
The prophet has become a clown
And I have forgotten the way
But I am still here
Things will be better, things will be better
Though I sometimes break down
So tonight, oh, tonight
It's you I'm staying with
Children wear wings, and they fly off to the army
And after a couple of years
They come back with no answer
People live in stress looking for a reason to breath
And between hatred and murder
They talk about peace
Things will be better, things will be better
Though I sometimes break down
So tonight, oh, tonight
It's you I'm staying with
Up there in the sky
Clouds are learning how to fly
And I look up
And see a hijacked plane
A government of generals
Divide away the scenery
Into yours and ours
And no one sees the end of it
There came the president of Egypt
How rejoiced I was to see him
Pyramids in his eyes, smoke of peace out of his pipe
We said, 'Let's make up and live as brothers'
So he said, 'Let's do that
Just get out of the territories'
Things will be better, things will be better, yeah
Though I sometimes break down
So tonight, oh, tonight
It's you I'm staying with.
(English) As I said, this song was written 38 years ago.
Or I've been stuck with it for 38 years, got to say
(Laughter)
(Applause)
but as with folk songs, you know,
they tend to expand and change with times.
Every time the peace process moved
to a positive moment,
I knew I was going to get a new verse
from my friend Yehonatan Geffen who was still prolific in writing.
So there is endless--
I mean 38 years, you don't want me to sing all the verses because we'd be here
(Laughter)
till sunset which is something I'm used to (Laughter)
but not with one song.
So I'd like to conclude with one verse that, I think, sums it all up.
And this one says
we should learn to live together
under the olive trees.
And that children will grow up knowing no more war,
no terror, and no frontiers.
And that fresh, new grass will grow over the graveyards for love and peace.
For after 100 years of war,
we haven't and will not lose hope.
(Singing in Hebrew) Some day we'll learn how to live together
Under the olive trees
Children will live without fear
Without borders, without bomb shelters
On graves grass will grow
For peace
(Applause)
And love
A hundred years of sword
And the hope still hasn't died
Things will be better
(English) You can join!
(Hebrew) Things will be better
Though sometimes I break down
So tonight, oh, tonight
It's you I'm staying with
And things will be better, things will be better
Sometimes I break down
So tonight, oh, tonight
It's you I'm staying with
I'm looking out of the window
Maybe
Maybe it's coming
It's coming, maybe a new day is coming
(Applause)
(Cheering)
Things will get better!
(Applause) (Cheering)