Thursday, July 31, 2008
Ladies Shoes Blog Post A Comment
A cat jumps over me to ask for food at 7am. 4:07 are 3. Someone asks me to teach you to send sms's to 8. 4:08 are 4. At 9 comes the maid and her vacuum cleaner, which I prefer to call conspirator. 4:09 are 5. At 10 I quit fighting. * Thinks to me that I lay down to 1 instead of April and the day begins. 4 and 10 are 6. Hours of sleep, then. Beirut
I put on repeat and high screams. Always the same song, which fills me with happiness every time again. The cat runs away, the vacuum disappears and everything becomes perfect before his words ... A Sunday smile you wore it for a while ... And just so you can smile, even if not Sunday.
Being in London is always this: mornings when it is impossible to delve into the dream world, because there is a stark reality that compels me to work.
The comparison is forced, and I find myself remembering the London morning, the white skies, no time. Always the same: open your eyes closed when I want to be, able to drag the body out of bed in the silence of a house where only the objects littered talk, take a pill to give soul to the body. Expect that the effect begins and one hour later, still yawning, after many many cigarettes and cups of tea through spilled everywhere, believe that apathy will save me another day when I feel that my existence is pointless. In Lisbon
nothing happens. The cat is sweet when it gets to me, the maid is affectionate and prepares a breakfast that I pretend to like, as I am unable to eat in the early hours of the morning, the sky is different, not all white, and the idea that there is a world harmless out there without hours of travel to get to wherever it is, inspires me.
.. A Sunday smile you wore it for a while ... Sings Zach , four, five, six times, never tune.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Congratulating Someone On Their Mothers Birthday
Spring in the Summer
few weeks ago I made a playlist for a friend that in years. I liked it so much that eventually became the soundtrack of my last day Londoners, ipod on repeat while touring bike. Here you go, almost in full. I still think is a good companion for the summer.
Electricity The Avalanches
Patrick Watson Sleeping Beauty
Self Portrait Durutti Column
My Egyptian Grammar The Fiery Furnaces
King Of Carrot Flowers Part 1 Neutral Milk Hotel Grown So Ugly
Captain Beefheart & The Magic Band
Narcissist's Waltz Die Romantik
Great Dj The Ting Tings
night walker Smoke Machine
Ca plane pour moi Plastic Bertrand
Wouldn't It Be Nice The Beach Boys
Human Fly The Cramps
Lo Boob Oscillator Stereolab
dry the rain Beta Band
Homesick Kings Of Convenience
I'll Keep It With Mine Nico
Be my baby Phil Spector
Lil' Red Riding Hood Sam the Sham & The Pharoahs
APunk Vampire Weekend
Real Cool Time The Stooges
Going Up The Country Canned Heat
're Somethin 'Special The Shaggs
few weeks ago I made a playlist for a friend that in years. I liked it so much that eventually became the soundtrack of my last day Londoners, ipod on repeat while touring bike. Here you go, almost in full. I still think is a good companion for the summer.
Electricity The Avalanches
Patrick Watson Sleeping Beauty
Self Portrait Durutti Column
My Egyptian Grammar The Fiery Furnaces
King Of Carrot Flowers Part 1 Neutral Milk Hotel Grown So Ugly
Captain Beefheart & The Magic Band
Narcissist's Waltz Die Romantik
Great Dj The Ting Tings
night walker Smoke Machine
Ca plane pour moi Plastic Bertrand
Wouldn't It Be Nice The Beach Boys
Human Fly The Cramps
Lo Boob Oscillator Stereolab
dry the rain Beta Band
Homesick Kings Of Convenience
I'll Keep It With Mine Nico
Be my baby Phil Spector
Lil' Red Riding Hood Sam the Sham & The Pharoahs
APunk Vampire Weekend
Real Cool Time The Stooges
Going Up The Country Canned Heat
're Somethin 'Special The Shaggs
Monday, July 28, 2008
Can Orange Juice Be Drunk When You Have Phlegm
Deize Genuine
The brasileios living over the house when I'm listening to uninterrupted Deize Tigrona the from 9 am, aka dawn in my lexicon biologico.
now, already 11, I came to the conclusion that the classical lyricism of this lady (the Deize, not to hear that, that know nothing and I hope to always know less) is much more prolific than ever imagined. With a menu of more than two hours of tunes and an ability to always speak the same thing without ever mentioning the Deize is undoubtedly a magician the popular song. Still, you can not recognize any kind of quality, and therefore, are not understand the Portuguese who hear. I doubt very much that if she sang with a pronounced ca our continued the hearing.
conclude then, and very hastily, this interest in funk carioca, is no more than a reminiscence colonial, a kind of 'patronizing' the musical culture of the wretched of the Brazilian who lives in the slums across the river and that of Suddenly you think you are full of cash because a multinational publishing any made him believe that the best contract he signed record deals in history, receiving a few million dollars to publish one, two or three discs of which never see a damn. In my humble opinion
(and have to admit I am not a big fan of Brazilian music, mine must be one - not assumed - arrogance overseas), 90% of the funk that goes to there is bad, it's junk and only exists because us, and old European carcumidos, we have a sense of guilt that we like so infiltrated at the outset of the poor and genuine brasuca us has to offer, even a chick screaming on the background of a drum machine for the third always playing the same rhythm.
The brasileios living over the house when I'm listening to uninterrupted Deize Tigrona the from 9 am, aka dawn in my lexicon biologico.
now, already 11, I came to the conclusion that the classical lyricism of this lady (the Deize, not to hear that, that know nothing and I hope to always know less) is much more prolific than ever imagined. With a menu of more than two hours of tunes and an ability to always speak the same thing without ever mentioning the Deize is undoubtedly a magician the popular song. Still, you can not recognize any kind of quality, and therefore, are not understand the Portuguese who hear. I doubt very much that if she sang with a pronounced ca our continued the hearing.
conclude then, and very hastily, this interest in funk carioca, is no more than a reminiscence colonial, a kind of 'patronizing' the musical culture of the wretched of the Brazilian who lives in the slums across the river and that of Suddenly you think you are full of cash because a multinational publishing any made him believe that the best contract he signed record deals in history, receiving a few million dollars to publish one, two or three discs of which never see a damn. In my humble opinion
(and have to admit I am not a big fan of Brazilian music, mine must be one - not assumed - arrogance overseas), 90% of the funk that goes to there is bad, it's junk and only exists because us, and old European carcumidos, we have a sense of guilt that we like so infiltrated at the outset of the poor and genuine brasuca us has to offer, even a chick screaming on the background of a drum machine for the third always playing the same rhythm.
Brazilian Wax Hemerrhoids
O Empire Strikes couch potato
They were there for two in the morning. I read your INTERPRETATION Zizec and delusional when Kant came a text message: "Despierta these? '. I wanted to respond: "Yes, but not for thee." I did not at the end of Accounts I am unable to be Mazinha for people I like. After five minutes the phone rang and came across a pack of words, almost all involving artistic doubts; productions of neon, vinyl text, ill-conceived ideas that are decently arranged after a long conversation. I understand that this sun and heat in London and apparently this is due to my absence (it's good to feel that someone sees me all-powerful, with a special wedge it into the guy who sends up clouds of one side to the other). But not even that good weather could prevent London wanting to spend a weekend in lusas land, which was removed with a huge laugh that behind him said, 'not think about it, stay away. "
I also realize that the loneliness also attacks the concept artists (something like 'one and three lonesome'?) And that happiness is in the form of new exhibitions.
disconnected and I was looking at long last (and ultimately give meaning to this expression!) And think that Empire Strikes Back where we are in the process of strengthening, but sometimes this is exactly counter-attack mediocre and unsuccessful , nearly fumbling the first time we see our strength, which was construct stealthily, secretly, without realizing it.
then returned to Zizec. And he knew me better, to feel that here, dipped in the pages of those confusing and spitting, written with the same ease of speaker, I wanted to be and that my life made sense.
They were there for two in the morning. I read your INTERPRETATION Zizec and delusional when Kant came a text message: "Despierta these? '. I wanted to respond: "Yes, but not for thee." I did not at the end of Accounts I am unable to be Mazinha for people I like. After five minutes the phone rang and came across a pack of words, almost all involving artistic doubts; productions of neon, vinyl text, ill-conceived ideas that are decently arranged after a long conversation. I understand that this sun and heat in London and apparently this is due to my absence (it's good to feel that someone sees me all-powerful, with a special wedge it into the guy who sends up clouds of one side to the other). But not even that good weather could prevent London wanting to spend a weekend in lusas land, which was removed with a huge laugh that behind him said, 'not think about it, stay away. "
I also realize that the loneliness also attacks the concept artists (something like 'one and three lonesome'?) And that happiness is in the form of new exhibitions.
disconnected and I was looking at long last (and ultimately give meaning to this expression!) And think that Empire Strikes Back where we are in the process of strengthening, but sometimes this is exactly counter-attack mediocre and unsuccessful , nearly fumbling the first time we see our strength, which was construct stealthily, secretly, without realizing it.
then returned to Zizec. And he knew me better, to feel that here, dipped in the pages of those confusing and spitting, written with the same ease of speaker, I wanted to be and that my life made sense.
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