29.11.09
28.11.09
From Publishers Weekly
"This bookshelf-busting testament to music geeks' mania for lists is about as comprehensive a "best-of" as any sane person could want. Editor Dimery and the army of 90 music critics he drafted to compile this beast begin in the 1950s with Frank Sinatra, end in 2005 with The White Stripes and cover every genre, sub-genre, fad, flash-in-the-pan and musical movement that hit in the intervening years, taking each on their own merits. So, noise-and-terror group Lightning Bolt (featuring "a 'singer' who barks through a contact microphone taped inside a gimp mask") gets lauded as a "truly challenging listening experience," Bon Jovi's "Slippery When Wet" gets dubious props for turning "heavy metal into a pop genre that women would be able to love" and Yoko Ono gets ignored. Arranged chronologically and with an excellent index, the book's a pleasure to peruse. Hundreds of jacket art reproductions accompany original track listings, and the critic-penned album summaries are brisk, informed, devoid of snark and full of argument-ending trivia. As with any list, there are bound to be glaring omissions and contentious inclusions, though Dimery buffets the book somewhat by disqualifying from consideration compilations, greatest hits albums and most soundtracks. For music lovers, it doesn't get much better.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved."
27.11.09
Talvez seja um bocado injusto mostrar apenas uma musica desta banda que hoje conheci.
Quando ia a mais de metade do álbum percebo que o baterista deles era o dos !!! and that's some sad news. Nunca liguei a !!!, mas é uma pena ter perdido o baterista dos Turing Machine e dos Maserati.
Este é daquele tipo de bandas que vale mesmo a pena ouvir um álbum seguido.
Quando ia a mais de metade do álbum percebo que o baterista deles era o dos !!! and that's some sad news. Nunca liguei a !!!, mas é uma pena ter perdido o baterista dos Turing Machine e dos Maserati.
26.11.09
23.11.09
Porcupine Tree - Teatro Sá da Bandeira
" How many bands do you know that go by what the fans ask and not by what they've previously agreed to play? Well...we don't!"
Feliz é como chego a casa.
O que é melhor do que ver uma banda que se ama numa harmonia tal que as previstas lágrimas se transformam em largos e fortes sorrisos? Sexo, já se sabe.
Ver Porcupine Tree ao vivo foi dos maiores prazeres que tive este ano (penso que isso já não é novidade para ninguém dentro do meu circulo de amigos, que por sinal é quem lê esta merda).
Foi bonito ver o mundo Steven Wilson ao vivo e senti-lo por todos os poros no meu corpo. Como previsto o momento alto foi a Trains que, por entre a azeiteirice do baixista, pôs o teatro a gritar em plenos pulmões (o André nisso viu-se lixado porque é alte fumador ultimate).
Faltaram musicas que teriam feito disto o melhor concerto da minha vida, seja como for, um dos melhores 3 concertos da minha vida ligou.
O SW prometeu voltar em breve. Espero que não seja um breve à Axl Rose.
"The best thing that you can do is take whatever comes to you, 'cause Time Flies"
Foi isto que escrevi quando vinha no comboio para casa. Um bocado merda, eu sei.
22.11.09
21.11.09
.Ricardo. diz:
saquem m. ward
vale bués
até musicas dronófolks tem
a ultima.
Violador de pequenos croissants de fiambre<:o) diz:
saquear o m. ward e violar a zooey.
.Ricardo. diz:
LOL
*ele apenas a come nas jams
Violador de pequenos croissants de fiambre<:o) diz:
*LOL
- Alto, poesia. -
Lambia chãos para dar um olá à Zooey.
E ela sorrir.
Depois, desaparecia por momentos.
Momentos que acabam por ser vidas.
Um dia voltarei,
voltarei de gabardine, chapeu e barba
por entre o deserto de enganos.
A poeira desce e abre a visão
ali estou eu, na estrada, peladão.
Ps: Aconselho a ouvirem a musica enquanto lêem o pensamento pois foi assim que ele mo veio à cabeça e dessa forma perceberem o sentimento artístico que reside em mim. Tudo é Efémero, tudo é merda.
20.11.09
18.11.09
17.11.09
When this freedom stains my coat
With the winter in my throat
When I'm lost I dig the dirt
When I fall I drive the hearse
And silence is another way
Of saying what I wanna say
And lying is another way
Of hoping it will go away
And you were always my mistake...
Given time I fix the roof
Given cash I speak the truth
And silence is another way
Of saying what I wanna say
And lying is another way
Of hoping it will go away
And you were always my mistake...
When I'm down I drive the hearse
When this boredom wears me out
Then the sky begins to cloud
Sleeping with my ball and chain
When she cries I take the blame
And pride is just another way
Of trying to live with my mistakes
Denial is a better way
Of getting through another day
And silence is another way
Of saying what I wanna say
And lying is another way
Of hoping it will go away
And you we're always my mistake...
When I'm down I drive the hearse
With the winter in my throat
When I'm lost I dig the dirt
When I fall I drive the hearse
And silence is another way
Of saying what I wanna say
And lying is another way
Of hoping it will go away
And you were always my mistake...
Given time I fix the roof
Given cash I speak the truth
And silence is another way
Of saying what I wanna say
And lying is another way
Of hoping it will go away
And you were always my mistake...
When I'm down I drive the hearse
When this boredom wears me out
Then the sky begins to cloud
Sleeping with my ball and chain
When she cries I take the blame
And pride is just another way
Of trying to live with my mistakes
Denial is a better way
Of getting through another day
And silence is another way
Of saying what I wanna say
And lying is another way
Of hoping it will go away
And you we're always my mistake...
When I'm down I drive the hearse
15.11.09
13.11.09
Hoje apetece-me Post-punk.
Esta musica cheira-me muito a poço onde o David Fonseca vai/foi beber.
Swung from a chandelier
My planet sweet on a silver salver
Bailed out my worst fears
'Cause man has to be his own saviour
Blind sailors
Imprisoned jailers
God tame us
No one to blame us
The sky is blue
My hands untied
A world that's true
Through our clean eyes
Just look at you
With burning lips
You're living proof
At my fingertips
Walked on a tidal wave
Laughed in the face of a brand new day
Food for survival thought
Mapped out the place where I planned to stay
All the way
Well behaved
Just in case
It slips away
Bem, hoje vinha para casa e vi ao longe uma coisa, característica do Outono, que me pareceu interessante.
Aproximei-me e tirei fotos com a qualidade disponível do meu telemóvel.
Está fraco em termos fotográficos, mas gostei do momento:
Foto feat. Sigur Rós.
Aproximei-me e tirei fotos com a qualidade disponível do meu telemóvel.
Está fraco em termos fotográficos, mas gostei do momento:
E depois fiz uma brincadeirinha com o Photoshop:
Foto feat. Sigur Rós.
11.11.09
Years Passing - i miss you. i'm pathetic [fasaden, 2009]
"Beautiful and drone-like dream pop from Henning of Suis La Lune and other Fasaden Records related acts.
Built on reverb, guitar loops, field recordings, massive distortion, soft vocals and harmonies. Simply genius.
Hand made and hand numbered covers. 47 minutes, 10 songs. One-time pressing of 50 tapes."
Experimentem.
From: Bolachas
10.11.09
9.11.09
8.11.09
7.11.09
A mother sings a lullaby to a child
Sometime in the future the boy goes wild
And all his nerves are feeling some kind of energy
A walk in the woods and I will try
Something under the trees that made you cry
It's so erotic when your make up runs
I got wiring loose inside my head
I got books that I never, ever read
I got secrets in my garden shed
I got a scar where all my urges bled
I got people underneath my bed
I got a place where all my dreams are dead
Swim with me into your blackest eyes
A few minutes with me inside my van
Should be so beautiful if we can
I'm feeling something taking over me
6.11.09
This room is a mess
Filled with lights and randomness
I sleep in the big city where nobody lives
This room is the big city
The one that never sleeps
Eu, drogado, 00:00
I'm the homeless man.
The dogs are barking
And the wind blows
It's just the same sound
With different flows
Go with it
Come alive.
Trade love for flowers
Trade houses for light
Get the pieces without the complete sight
I'm the homeless man,
The mansion owner.
The dogs are barking
And the wind blows
It's just the same sound
With different flows
Go with it
Come alive.
Trade love for flowers
Trade houses for light
Get the pieces without the complete sight
I'm the homeless man,
The mansion owner.
- Eu, drogado, 00:05.
5.11.09
3.11.09
Sisters! brothers! small boats of fire are falling from the sky!
Os testes voltaram e com eles a audição de A Silver Mt. Zion.É tão bom estudar a ouvir isto :')
2.11.09
They don't eat, don't sleep
They don't feed, they don't seethe
Bare their gums when they moan and squeak
Lick the dirt off a larger one's feet
They don't push, don't crowd
Congregate until they're much too loud
Fuck to procreate till they are dead
Drink the blood of their so called best friend
They don't scurry when something bigger comes their way
Don't pack themselves together and run as one
Don't shit where they're not supposed to
Don't take what's not theirs, they don't compare
They don't scam, don't fight
Don't oppress an equals given rights
Starve the poor so they can be well fed
Line their holes with the dead ones bread
Rats...They don't compare
Ben, the two of us need look no more
Subscrever:
Mensagens (Atom)
