segunda-feira, 28 de maio de 2007

Peças da minha memória musical

Quando ouvi pela primeira vez o album "Promenade" dos Divine Comedy, fiquei fascinado com a sonoridade do disco, com a voz do vocalista e com as letras. Na altura, ainda não tinha leitor de cd´s, por isso gravei o album em cassete e escutei-o até à exaustão... Até a fita se deteriorar.
Uma das canções que mais ouvia e que me fascinava profundamente, chama-se The Booklovers. Voltei a ouvi-la ontem e decidi partilhá-la com os meus leitores e ouvintes. O vocalista evoca uma série de escritores famosos( a maior parte já desaparecidos) que respondem à sua chamada das formas mais variadas: com saudações, gritos, perguntas, frases cómicas ou relacionadas com as suas vidas e obras literárias.
Isto é fabuloso!

The Booklovers - The Divine Comedy

Get this widget Share Track details


"This book deals with epiphenomenalism, which has to do with consciousness as a mere accessory of physiological processes whose presence or absence... makes no difference... whatever are you doing?"

Aphra Benn: Hello
Cervantes: Donkey
Daniel Defoe: To christen the day!
Samuel Richardson: Hello
Henry Fielding: Tittle-tattle Tittle-tattle...
Lawrence Sterne: Hello
Mary Wolstencraft: Vindicated!
Jane Austen: Here I am!
Sir Walter Scott: We're all doomed!
Leo Tolstoy: Yes!
Honoré de Balzac: Oui...
Edgar Allen Poe: Aaaarrrggghhhh!
Charlotte Brontë: Hello...
Emily Brontë: Hello...
Anne Brontë: Hellooo..?
Nikolai Gogol: Vas chi
Gustav Flaubert: Oui
William Makepeace Thackeray: Call me 'William Makepeace Thackeray'
Nathaniel Hawthorne: The letter 'A'
Herman Melville: Ahoy there!
Charles Dickens: London is so beautiful this time of year...
Anthony Trollope: good-good-good-good evening!
Fyodor Dostoevsky: Here come the sleepers...
Mark Twain: I can't even spell 'Mississippi'!
George Eliot: George reads German
Emile Zola: J'accuse
Henry James: Howdy Miss Wharton!
Thomas Hardy: Ooo-arrr!
Joseph Conrad: I'm a bloody boring writer...
Katherine Mansfield: [cough cough]
Edith Wharton: Well hello, Mr James!
DH Lawrence: Never heard of it
EM Forster: Never heard of it!

Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his own;
He who has life and strength enough to say 'Yesterday's dead & gone - I want to live today'

James Joyce: Hello there!
Virginia Woolf: I'm losing my mind!
Marcel Proust: Je me'en souviens plus
F Scott Fitzgerald: baa bababa baa
Ernest Hemingway: I forgot the....
Hermann Hesse: Oh es ist alle so häßlich
Evelyn Waugh: Whoooaarr!
William Faulkner: Tu connait William Faulkner?
Anaïs Nin: The strand of pearls
Ford Maddox Ford: Any colour, as long as it's black!
Jean-Paul Sartre: Let's go to the dome, Simone!
Simone de Beauvoir: C'est exact present
Albert Camus: The beach... the beach
Franz Kafka: WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!
Thomas Mann: Mam
Graham Greene: Call me 'pinky', lovely
Jack Kerouac: Me car's broken down...
William S Burroughs: Wowwww!

Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his own;
He who has life and strength enough to say 'Yesterday's dead & gone - I want to live today'

Kingsley Amis: [cough]
Doris Lessing: I hate men!
Vladimir Nabokov: Hello, little girl...
William Golding: Achtung Busby!
JG Ballard: Instrument binnacle
Richard Brautigan: How are you doing?
Milan Kundera: I don't do interviews
Ivy Compton Burnett: Hello...
Paul Theroux: Have a nice day!
Günter Grass: I've found snails!
Gore Vidal: Oh, it makes me mad!
John Updike: Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run...
Kazuro Ishiguro: Ah so, old chap!
Malcolm Bradbury: stroke John Steinbeck, stroke JD Salinger
Iain Banks: Too orangey for crows!
AS Byatt: Nine tenths of the law, you know...
Martin Amis: [burp]
Brett Easton Ellis: Aaaaarrrggghhh!
Umberto Eco: I don't understand this either...
Gabriel Garcia Marquez: Mi casa es su casa
Roddy Doyle: ha ha ha!
Salman Rushdie: Names will live forever...

domingo, 13 de maio de 2007

Artista da semana: Joy Division


Bem, algum dia tinha que ser. O grupo musical que marcou profundamente uma fase da minha adolescência pintada de tons negros e cinzentos, tinha de ter um destaque merecido e especial. Creio que o momento é propício. A Warner prepara uma cuidada edição revista e aumentada da discografia dos Joy Division. O filme Control - The Ian Curtis Film, realizado por Anton Corbjin deverá estrear em Setembro nos nossos cinemas. Mas, já ouvi dizer que antes será exibido no Festival de Cannes, no dia 17 de Maio.

Baseado no livro Touching From A Distance( a história do vocalista dos Joy Division contada pela viúva Deborah) é, segundo o realizador, um filme sobre Ian Curtis e não uma reconstituição da curta existência dos Joy Division( embora, é claro, esta surja, obrigatoriamente, interligada). Aguardo com expectativa o filme. Embora, muito tempo tenha passado sem escutar as suas músicas; voltei a faze-lo recentemente. É praticamente impossível esquece-las e não associá-las a muitos momentos e imensas recordações da minha adolescência. São intemporais, únicas, especiais.

Lamento o trágico fim do Ian. "I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand" Tomara que esse guia que esperavas te tivesse levado pela mão e mostrado outro caminho, outra verdade. Tomara que tivesses sentido a outra face do amor.Confesso: também já caminhei em silêncio pelos escuros vales da depressão, tristeza, melancolia, angústia e solidão. Imergi em profundas crises existênciais durante as quais cogitei esse fim voluntário.

As tuas músicas são tristes, mas belas. Da tristeza, podemos extrair preciosos tesouros e, se não nos matar, torna-nos mais ricos e mais fortes.

São considerados um dos grupos mais marcantes e influentes das duas últimas décadas. Um grupo mítico. Ian Curtis considerado uma lenda(http://www.spectrumgothic.com.br/musica/ian_curtis.htm ).

Hoje em dia, continuam a ser uma referência incontornável para muitos grupos/artistas.

Ladies and Gentlemen: JOY DIVISION!
Love Will Tear Us Apart
When routine bites hard and ambitions are low
and resentment rides high but emotions won't grow
And we're changing our ways, taking different roads
Then love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Why is the bedroom so cold? You've turned away on your side
Is my timing that flawed? Our respect runs so dry
Yet there's still this appeal that we've kept through our lives
But love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
You cry out in your sleep, all my failings exposed
And there's tast in my mouth as desperation takes hold
Just that something so good just can't function no more
But love, love wil tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Disorder
I've been waiting for a guide to come
and take me by the hand
Could these sensations make me feel
the pleasures of a normal man
New sensations bear the innocence -
leave them for another day
I've go the spirit, lose the feeling
take the shock away
It's getting faster, moving faster now,
it's getting out of hand
On the tenth floor, down the backstairs
into no-man's land
Lights are flashing,
cars are crashing,
getting frequent now
I've got the spirit, lose the feeling, let it
out somehow
What means to you,
what means to me -
and we will meet again
I'm watching you, I watch it all
I take no pity from friends
Who is right and who can tell,
and who gives a damn right now
Until the spirit, new sensation
takes hold - then you know (3)
I've got the spirit, but lose the feeling (2)
Feeling (7)
The Eternal

Joy Division The...

Procession moves on, the shouting is over,

Praise to the glory of loved ones now gone.

Talking aloud as they sit round their tables,

Scattering flowers washed down by the rain.

Stood by the gate at the foot of the garden,

Watching them pass like clouds in the sky,

Try to cry out in the heat of the moment,

Possessed by a fury that burns from inside.

Cry like a child, though these years make me older,

With children my time is so wastefully spent,

A burden to keep, though their inner communion,

Accept like a curse an unlucky deal.

Played by the gate at the foot of the garden,

My view stretches out from the fence to the wall,

No words could explain, no actions determine,

Just watching the trees and the leaves as they fall.