Free Rumeysa.
Free all the political prisoners who have been harassed, locked up, disappeared, deported, bullied, beaten down in the name of the lawless and lunatic regime that has captured the White House.
I would have been closely following this story about the abduction of Tufts doctoral student and Turkish national Rumeysa Ozturk regardless, because it’s got everything. A local item that hooks into a national story with global implications. But for personal reasons, I’m even more locked in.
I just returned from a week in Istanbul. A beautiful city in a beautiful country that is going through some very ugly turmoil. President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan is a tyrant who has maintained a chokehold on the levers of power in Turkey since 2003 through various dirty tactics, including chipping away at free speech and imprisoning political rivals.
On March 19, Erdoğan jailed the mayor of Istanbul, Ekrem İmamoğlu, on trumped-up corruption charges. İmamoğlu is an immensely popular figure who is widely viewed as the most viable opposition candidate to face the incumbent in the next presidential election. İmamoğlu’s party went ahead and named him its candidate anyway, as he sat in his jail cell.
The blatant power grab by Erdoğan triggered massive unrest in Istanbul and across the country. Thousands protested. More than a thousand were arrested for protesting. And journalists trying to cover the breaking news were met with intimidation, violence, jail and deportation.
So what does a city in paroxysms of political chaos look like up close?
Surprisingly, Istanbul looks a lot like any other massive metropolis going about its daily routine. The coffee is still brewing, the trains are still running and tourists can still clamber about the local attractions in comfort and security. I could, for example, enjoy music in the local clubs every night of the week without disruption, even as long parades of protesters marched through the streets.
For a brief yet blessed moment in time, I was a regular at Agac Ev, a small rock ’n’ roll club in the neighborhood of Kadikoy.
On Saturday I saw Meat The Beetles (sic), which specialized in the Fab Four’s early hits. On Sunday I saw Tolga Akyıldız, who favored popular rock legends such as U2 and The Police. On Monday I saw Direc-T, which was billed as a Nirvana act, but freely ran the gamut of the alt ’90s with songs from Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers and one Queen tune to keep you guessing. On Tuesday I saw Smokey Signal, a band that proved hair metal never really dies. And on Wednesday I saw Batu Mutlugil, who was “Messin’ With the Blues.”
You might have thought I walked into a typical tourist club. You know, the kind of place stocked with cover bands that pander to the musical tastes of spendthrift foreign nationals on holiday. And while there may have been some pandering involved, as far as I could tell, it was almost entirely for the pleasure of local Turks. I was struck by the local affection for rock ’n’ roll, a uniquely American cultural product. Against my better judgment, I felt a twinge of nationalist pride.
Once upon a time a music venue such as Agac Ev would have been viewed as a victory in a campaign of soft diplomacy between nations. Rock ’n’ roll being a particularly exquisite feather in the cap of Western-style democracies, the best models of which possess the power to draw aspiring democracies into their orbit through persuasion rather than force. Life under freedom is better than life under tyranny. Who would deny it? But who would take the United States of America as a leading example of democracy in 2025? The Turks enjoying a night of music at Agac Ev were lost in a vision of America that lingers on the edge of waking life like a fading dream.
For Rumeysa, the dream has become a nightmare. Plainclothes federal thugs in masks stole her off the street in broad daylight, relocated her to Louisiana against a judge’s orders, and look hell-bent on making an example out of this … [checks notes] …Fulbright scholar whose research covers “children’s and adolescents’ positive development in a media-embedded, digitally connected global world.” What are we doing here? This path leads nowhere good.
Hit this
Saturday: Burp., The Ghouls, Tysk Tysk Task, Night Visions (Middle East, Cambridge)
It’s a Mill City extravaganza as four bands from Lowell set up camp somewhere within the sprawling Middle East compound. A medley of pop and rock. The Ghouls were much feted in 2024 at the Rock N Roll Rumble and Boston Music Awards, but what have you done for me lately? Oh, a novelty Xmas single called “Will We Even Have a Christmas Time?” Nice! Tysk Tysk Task gets grungy. Night Visions have a very popular band name. And Burp. is a natural bodily function where air is released from the stomach through the mouth, often with a noise.
Sunday: The War and Treaty, Tiera Kennedy (The Sinclair, Cambridge)
Country music’s two-step with genres previously thought to be unlikely dance partners has been big business for a while now. Beyoncé’s gone country. Shaboozey’s getting tipsy at NFL halftime shows. Jelly Roll is out there doing his thing. But don’t forget husband-and-wife duo The War and Treaty, who have been mashing up the genre since before it was popular. Or at least since before Lil Nas X dropped “Old Town Road.” The outfit packs a lot of tools in the toolkit. Gospel, soul, jazz all get their time in the spotlight, but it’s the return to the country tropes and textures that makes this crossover act a standout listen.
Tuesday: The Ophelias, Paper Lady (The Rockwell, Somerville)
By the time you hit this show, indie rockers The Ophelias will have released their latest album “Spring Grove.” Look for it at the merch table. The lead single “Salome” is already out. I tried to listen to this 2:18 song on Spotify, but the streaming platform would not let that happen without me listening to 60 seconds of advertising. No thanks. The single will remain a mystery. I’m sure there’s a reason that bands use Spotify, a visual clusterfuck of a platform that rips them off and makes listening to their music a chore. But am I sure that I’m sure?
April 12: Jade Dust, Pushback, P.V., Homeworld (Cambridge Community Center, Cambridge)
This show is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for our Record Store Day Walk. Minus the pot, the gold and the rainbow. Still kicks ass, though! Walk the walk, punk the rock.
Live: Rebecca Cline Quartet at the Mad Monkfish
Rebecca Cline led a jazz quartet from behind the piano on Saturday at the Mad Monkfish in Cambridge’s Central Square. The group was heavily invested in Berklee College of Music professorial talent. Professor Cline is in the Piano Department. Guitarist Kim Perlak is chair of the guitar department. Drummer Gen Yoshimura must be in the drum department. And presumably, the bassist, whose name I didn’t catch, is in the bass department.
One thing you can usually count on hybrid musician-academic types for is a careful delineation of their source material. Trained in the art of footnotes and citations, Cline did not fail to spell out her setlist at regular intervals during the performance. Not required, but always appreciated – especially when you’re in the crowd, taking notes.
Favorites from the night included Hank Jones’ “Thad’s Pad,” Billy Strayhorn’s “A Flower Is a Lovesome Thing,” and an original titled “Noctilucence,” which, Cline assured us, was a real word.
Michael Gutierrez is an author, educator, activist and editor-in-chief at Hump Day News.
A stronger
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