It is June the 30th, in the year of our Lord 1717. Under the black shroud of a storm-swept night, a dark ship creeps into an unknown harbor of a forgotten town, somewhere deeply hidden on a jagged coast. Her dark, battered sails are flapping in the stormy winds. Her black flags all down, mourning the loss of all those who were left behind; in the treacherous waves of Cape Horn; the deep seas of the Pacific and the distant shores of far-away Georgia.
As the ship, loaded with the bounty it seized in the last two years of her travels, finally moors for a well-deserved rest, her crew, pockets filled to the brim with gold and pearls, sneak off the gangboard into the dark alleys surrounding the old wharfs of this godforsaken place.
Silently we follow suit. Making sure we hide in the shadows of the old houses in this dark side of town. Nothing moves in the relentless rain. All sounds are muffled in the gusts of wind that shriek through the broken windows of abandoned buildings. A big rat slips into a gutter as we see the crew disappear in a black alley.
We wait until the gusts of rain die down for a brief moment. From the alley comes the soft sound of laughter and music. At the end of it, a bright light pours under an old crooked, wooden door. A black cat, jumping into the window opposite of it, pushes open some filthy rags that once were curtains. For a brief second, it reveals a huge figure, using a huge knife to tickle a poor sailor's neck.
As we near the door, it suddenly cracks open, as the poor sailor is thrown into the cold night, his head is soon to follow, rolling down the alley till it stops in front of our feet.
Through the - now open - door we can see a busty lady singing on top of a dirty bar, holding a big bottle of rum. Around her are the locals, their mugs raised as they roar along with her song. Amongst them are the crew. Their eyes already red from the smoke of pipes, the many pints of beer and the sight of the ladies sitting there on their laps. The ladies' eyes are firmly fixed on the filled purses of the men, whose cheeks they are now kissing.
As one Read More

It's always an exciting moment when a new CD arrives at CeltCast HQ and it goes into the CD player. What can we expect? is it good? Do we like it? Which songs can we play? All questions that are spinning through our minds as the first seconds of a new CD tick away. In the case of Hans Elzinga these questions were quickly answered. Yes, we did like it and soon enough the music team started sending each other messages, telling us about how much we liked this beautiful, calming CD.
But this album also posed a problem: Although it was recorded by a member of the Dutch folk band Parsley ; although it was acoustic guitar music; although it was recorded by the amazing 'sound witch' (Hans' words, not mine) Fieke van den Hurk at her Dearworld studio , one thing it wasn't: folk music. A slight problem if your station's format is based on acoustic 'folk' music. So we had a quick virtual team meeting and decided to bend the rules as far as we possibly could because this album deserves all the attention we can give it.
So here we go, we give you Introspective , an instrumental album by Dutch acoustic guitar - and flute player Hans Elzinga. We have already established that Introspective isn't a folk album as such, so what is it then? Well, I would call it one of the best contemporary instrumental guitar and flute albums I've heard in a long time.
Hans is a D.I.Y artist and a very, very talented one for that matter. He composed all the songs, played all the guitar most of the flute and whistle. He often – during live performances at least - uses a loop pedal so he can accompany himself on rhythm guitar while he plays the guitar- or flute solos. He also made his own nylon string flamenco guitar, and he deliberately uses heavier strings for the 1st and 6th position on his steel-string guitar, so he can get the lower, more rich sound he is looking for. Combine a musician like this - somebody clearly seeking his own way in music- with Fieke van den Hurk and something really special starts to happen. As we all know Fieke will also go the extra- sometimes unconventional- mile to find that specific sound an instrument, a song or even a single note needs, so combine those two together and Read More