terça-feira, dezembro 28, 2004

Zé Pilintra - o típico malandro da Lapa

...o requisito para ser malandro era saber usar a navalha...




Pontos cantados:

1) Tranca Ruas e Zé Pelintra
São dois grandes companheiros,
Tranca Ruas na Encruza,
E Zé Pelintra no Terreiro.

2) Tem gente que me chama de amigo,
Mas não possui no coração a lealdade,
Se pensam que me enganam eu não me iludo,
Sem lealdade não existe amizade, é só falsidade!

3) Lá no morro é, que é lugar de tirar onda. Bis
Tomando brahma de meia, jogando baralho e ronda.

4) Ô Zé quando for lá na lagoa,
Toma cuidado com o balanço da canoa. Bis
Ô Zé, faça tudo o que quiser,
Mas não maltrate o coração dessa mulher.

5) Quem é aquele homem sentado logo ali...
Todo de terninho branco chapéu de palha
Olhou pra mim...ele é o Zé...
O Zé Pilintra é...
Ele é malandro ele é boêmio ele é de fé

6) De madrugada quando vou descendo o morro,
A nega pensa que eu vou trabalhar. Bis
Eu boto meu baralho no bolso,
Meu cachecol no pescoço.
E vou pra Barão de Mauá!
Mas trabalhar, trabalhar pra quê? {bis}
Se eu trabalhar eu vou morrer.

7) De dia numa linda batucada
De noite nos braços da amada.
Qual é que é, Seu Zé. Qual é que é?
Eu sei que seu caso é mulher.

8) Quem e que usa gravata vermelho
Terno branco e chapéu de banda?
E seu Zè Pilintra e doutor de umbanda
Que vem chegando da sua Aruanda
Bravo sr Zé Pilintra chegou!

9) Calça, culote, paleto, camisa fina
So me falta uma botina, pra acabar de ajeitar
É ze pilintra sim senhor, e ze pilintra seu doutor
Seu doutor, seu doutor ......(bis)

quinta-feira, dezembro 23, 2004

Parabéns, e coiso.

Já dizia o Khalil:

THE ASTRONOMER


In the shadow of the temple my friend and I saw a blind man sitting alone. And my friend said, "Behold the wisest man of our land."
Then I left my friend and approached the blind man and greeted him. And we conversed.
After a while I said, "Forgive my question, but since when hast thou been blind?"
"From my birth," he answered.
Said I, "And what path of wisdom followest thou?"
Said he, "I am an astronomer."
Then he placed his hand upon his breast, saying, "I watch all these suns and moons and stars."

quarta-feira, dezembro 22, 2004

O final é só um... e não é bonito...

M: Há muito tempo que cavalgo a teu lado!
CV: Eu sei...


seventhseal.jpg

No dia em que a pint de Guiness me soube bem...

Penso que passada esta terça feira, posso dizer que tenho dois bilhetes imortais: 1)Betty Carter; 2) The Pogues (Reunion 2004).

Esta terça feira, os Pogues envergonharam todas as bandas de rock que existem ... Bono enfia um dedo no recto e faz a ponte.

Prometo fotografias do concerto!...a ver se ficaram aceitáveis..

I am going, i am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, i am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing


Espero que a fotografia do Shane com a garrafa de whiskey tenha ficado boa :D

terça-feira, dezembro 21, 2004

SHOTGUN BOOGIE
(Ford)
TENNESSEE ERNIE FORD (Capitol 1295, 1950)

There stands in the corner with the barrel so straight
I looked out the window and over the gate
The big fat rabbits are jumpin' in the grass
Wait till they hear my old shotgun blast
Shotgun boogie, I done saw your track
Look out mister rabbbit when I cock my hammer back
Well, over on the ridge is shady park
Hickory nuts so big, you can see 'em in the dark
The big fat squirrels they scratch and they fight
I'll be on that ridge before daylight
With the shotgun boogie, all I need is one shot
Look out bushy tail, tonight you'll be in the pot

Well, I met a pretty gal, she was tall and thin
I asked her what she had, she said a fox four-ten
I looked her up and down, said boy this is love
So we headed for the brush to shoot a big fat dove
Shotgun boogie, boy the feathers flew
Look out mister dove, when she draws her bead on you
I sat down on a log, took her on my lap
She said wait a minute Bud, you got to see my pap
He's got a sixteen gage, choked down like a rifle
He don't like a man that's a gonna trifle
Shotgun boogie, draws the bead so fine
Look out big boy, he's loaded all the time

Well, I called on her pap like a gentleman oughta
He said no brush hunter's gonna get my daughter
He cocked back the hammer right on the spot
When the gun went off, I outran the shot
Shotgun boogie, I wanted wedding bells
I'll be back little gal, when your pappie runs out of shells

JOHNNY VALENTINE
(Anderson - Tubb)
ANDY ANDERSON

Johnny Valentine, Johnny Valentine
Listen everybody 'bout Johnny Valentine
He goes out with girls all of the time
He's in love with 'em all, he goes every night
He's got about a hundred, he likes to hold 'em tight

All about Johnny, he's really no square
A real sharp guy with ducks in his hair
He wears T-shirts and blue jeans and motor-cycle boots
He's a real tough guy and the girls think he's cute
Johnny Valentine, Johnny Valentine
Johnny Valentine, Johnny Valentine
He's a lover not a fighter, they call him Johnny Valentine
Johnny Valentine, Johnny Valentine

When the chauffeur takes him out in his big Cadillac
There's no such thing as a-holding 'em back
They're all right there, they're ready to ride
They have to take turns to sit by his side
Johnny Valentine, Johnny Valentine
Johnny Valentine, Johnny Valentine
He's a lover not a fighter, they call him Johnny Valentine

Not too long ago a girl got him all alone
She said, marry me Johnny, let's get us a home
He said, look out now baby, don't you shoot me that line
You know as well as I do I haven't got the time
Johnny Valentine, Johnny Valentine
Johnny Valentine, Johnny Valentine
He's a lover not a fighter, they call him Johnny Valentine
Johnny, Johnny, Johnny Valentine

Nellie The Elephant

To Bombay
A travelling circus came
They brought an intelegent elephant
and Nellie was her name

One dark night
she slipt her iron chain, and of she ran
to Hindustan and was never seen again

oooooooooooooooooo...
Nellie the elephant pack her trunk and
said goodbye to the circus
of she road with a trumety trump
trump trump trump

Nellie the elephant packed her trunk
and trumbled of to the jungle
of she road with a thrumety trump
trump trump trump

Night by night she danced to the circus band
When Nellie was leading the big parade she looked
so proud and grand

No more tricks for Nellie to performe
They taught her how to take a bow and she tooked
to crowd by storm

oooooooooooooooooo...
Nellie the elephant pack her trunk and
said goodbye to the circus
of she road with a trumety trump
trump trump trump

Nellie the elephant packed her trunk
and trumbled of to the jungle
of she road with a thrumety trump
trump trump trump

The head of the heard was calling far far away
they meet one night in silver light
on the road to Mandaley

oooooooooooooooooo...
Nellie the elephant pack her trunk and
said goodbye to the circus
of she road with a trumety trump
trump trump trump

Nellie the elephant packed her trunk
and trumbled of to the jungle
of she road with a thrumety trump
trump trump trump

Wargasm

by L7

Wargasm wargasm one, two, three
Tie a yellow ribbon around the amputee
Masturbate watch it on TV
Crocodile tears for the refugee

Wargasm wargasm one, two, three
Smutty bloody pictures, ecstacy
Blue balls waiting impatiently
From Alcatraz to Lady Liberty

Body bags and dropping bombs,
The pentagon knows how to turn us on
Wargasm wargasm one, two, three
Pit bull pit bull ecstacy
Wave those flags high in the air
As long as it takes place over there

Wargasm
Wargasm
Wargasm
Wargasm
Body bags and dropping bombs,
The pentagon knows how to turn us
Turn us on
Wargasm
Turn us on
Wargasm

Chegou de Itália no sábado...
Na cara, uma serenidade que não lhe é comum ... um brilho intrigante...
Sara...

Eu sou um homem de latão que procura um coração...

Fallow the yellow brick road...

I think we're not in Kansas anymore ToTo...

I love those catholic girls whem they start to BLOW...

As catequistas tem uma "sede especial"...

Eu sou intelectual, comigo não é só sexual.
Tenho interesse na pessoa, sobretudo se fôr MULHER BOA!!!

The Streams of Whiskey...embora ultimamente tenha sido Rum

Bem...vou regressar ao meu Portugal português amanhã. Mas antes, nada como um concerto dos POGUES para conviver com os Sex Pistols e os Chieftains...Brixton Academy aí vou eu...parece que o Shane anda a esvaziar 3 garrafas de Porto por concerto...vou ver se não o deixo ficar desacompanhado ;)

(www.pogues.com)
"Hi Folks ,

For what its worth , I thought that the Pogues where rocking last night.

They arrived on stage at 9.10pm and left at 11.10 , after Shane had downed 3 bottles of wine/port.

Shane hardly missed a line throughout , the music was excellent and the venue & crowd just added to what became a very enjoyable and memorable evening , which took me back to the Pogues era of '86/'87.

I managed to get Jem's Original setlist at the end of the show and the full list was as follows :

1) Streams of Whiskey
2) If I Should Fall From Grace
3) Boys From The County Hell
4) Broad Majestic Shannon
5) Young Ned of the Hill
6) Turkish Song of the Damned
7) Rainy Night in Soho
8) Tuesday Morning
9) Rain Street
10) Medley
11) I'm a Man You Dont Meet Every Day (Cait on vocals)
12) Pair of Brown Eyes
13) Repeal
14) White City
15) Old Main Drag
16) Thousands are Sailing
17) Body of an American
18) Lullaby of London
19) Dirty Old Town
20) Bottle of Smoke
21) Sick Bed of Cuchulainn

1st Encore :
Sally MacLenanne
Irish Rover
Fiesta

2nd Encore :
Star of the County Down
Fairytale of New York (Cait on Vocals)
Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah

For those going this week , try and not to drink TOO much because this is one gig you will want to remember."

segunda-feira, dezembro 20, 2004

Dinah-Moe Humm!

e ao 22 dia Ele ...escreveu: completed... Emule que estas no ceu, abencoado sejas entre o sexo masculino e o feminino...

OVER-NITE SENSATION ...um dos 23 albuns que Ele me deu


Talking about pacts with the devil...

Robert Johnson vs Niccolò Paganini

or, should I say...

"Me and the Devil Blues" vs "Capriccio no 24"


where the fuck is the devil?!! I want to sell my soul...


sábado, dezembro 18, 2004

DETESTO QUANDO O ÁRBITRO ME ANULA UM GOLO!!!!

quinta-feira, dezembro 16, 2004

Mais um risco na parede!!!

Em cima do lençól estão dois percevejos
Enquanto nós trocamos uns beijos
Parecem simples na sua pequenês
Mas foi assim que te tirei os três.

Doces
penetraçôes
até
aos colhões


Tira-lhes prazeres se puderes... lembra-te, são só mulheres...
(cantiga de maldizer do séc. XIV ou XV)


quarta-feira, dezembro 15, 2004

Les femmes, au fond et au fion, adorent les misogynes
(www.gainsbourg.org)




"misogyny : 1656, from Gk. misogynia, from misogynes "woman-hater," from miso-, comb. form of misos "hatred" (from misein "to hate") + gyne "woman." Misogynist is first recorded 1620."


"Je garde le souvenir de lui quand il était venu à la maison m’apporter ses chansons (1959).

Il était nul ! Il avait peur, il était paniqué. J’avais de très beaux verres à whisky, en cristal gravé. Je lui sers un drink, mais il avait les mains tellement tremblantes et humides que le verre lui a glissé des mains et s’est brisé à ses pieds !" (Juliette Greco)







Dieu que la vie est cruelle
Au musicien des ruelles
Son copain son compagnon
C'est l'accordéon
Qui c'est-y qui l'aide à vivre
A s'asseoir quand il s'enivre
C'est-y vous, c'est moi, mais non
C'est l'accordéon Accordez accordez accordez donc
L'aumône à l'accordé l'accordéon.
Ils sont comme cul et chemise
Et quand on les verbalise
Il accompagne au violon
Son accordéon
Il passe une nuit tranquille
Puis au matin il refile
Un peu d'air dans les poumons
De l'accordéon
Accordez accordez accordez donc
L'aumône à l'accordé l'accordéon.
Quand parfois il lui massacre
Ses petits boutons de nacre
Il en fauche à son veston
Pour l'accordéon
Lui, emprunte ses bretelles
Pour secourir la ficelle
Qui retient ses pantalons
En accordéon
Accordez accordez accordez donc
L'aumône à l'accordé l'accordéon.
Mais un jour par lassitude
Il laissera la solitude
Se pointer à l'horizon
De l'accordéon
Il en tirera cinquante
Centimes à la brocante
Et on fera plus attention
A l'accordéon
(Serge Gainsbourg)



Cada vez que me lembro de Juliette Greco lembro-me de Ana, e pelos vistos nao sou o unico. Varias vezes me perguntei porque, mas julgo estar associado ao facto de haver mulheres "antigas", daquelas que tem a responsabilidade de responder perante a palavra:" femme fatale" e descartam o juiz da "sex symbol". Juliette Greco, Jane Birkin, Catherine Deneuve, Sophia Lauren, Marlene Dietrich...

Nao me tentem entender, porque nem eu o consigo.

terça-feira, dezembro 14, 2004

21 virgens dançavam em redor de um pénis gigante...
contorciam - se fernéticamente...
pequenos fios de sangue escorriam-lhes pelas pernas...
vastos campos floriam ao serem acariciados por esse
imaculado liquído...
seios endurecidos pelo chamamento da carne...
o gume fálico dilacerava... gritos ensurdecedores...
a lascivia enovoava o céu...

segunda-feira, dezembro 13, 2004

Adoro dançar Slows...

Há algo de mágico naquela imagem; o bar a fechar, as cadeiras já arrumadas em cima das mesas, a banda tocar um jazz "Cool", tranquilo e muito, muito, calmo... os dois amantes movem-se sem sair do lugar... a troca de olhares apenas interrompida pelo pousar da cabeça dela no ombro dele, um claro; quem me dera que este momento fosse eterno.
O delicado sentir das formas do corpo dela... o perfume... o coração no compasso sôfrego do Amor... a sigh, a little sigh...



These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)

Oh will you never let me be?
Oh will you never set me free?

The ties that bound us are still around us
There's no escape that I can see
And still those little things remain
That bring me happiness or pain
A cigarette that bears a lipstick's traces
An airline ticket to romantic places
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things
Remind me of you

A tinkling piano in the next apartment
Those stumbling words that told you
What my heart meant
A fairground's painted swings
These foolish things
Remind me of you

You came, you saw, you conquered me
When you did that to me
I somehow knew that this had to be
The winds of march that make my heart a dancer
A telephone that rings, but who's to answer?
Oh, how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you

Gardenia perfume ling'ring on a pillow
Wild strawb'ries only seven francs a kilo
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things
Remind me of you

The park at evening when the bell has sounded
The Île-de-France with all the girls around it
The beauty that is Spring
These foolish things
Remind me of you

I know that this was bound to me
These things have haunted me
For you've entirely enchanted me
The sigh of midnight trains in empty stations
Silk stockings thrown aside, dance invitations
Oh, how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you

First daffodills and long excited cables
And candle light on little corner tables
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things
Remind me of you

The smile of Garbo and the scent of roses
The waiters whistling as the last bar closes
The song that Crosby sings
These foolish things
Remind me of you

How strange, how sweet to find you still
These things are dear to me
That seem to bring you so near to me
The scent of smould'ring leaves, the wail of steamers
Two lovers on the street who walk like dreamers
Oh, how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you, just you

domingo, dezembro 12, 2004

sexta-feira, dezembro 10, 2004

Bob Marley at the Rainbow Theatre (Finsbury Park, London)



(Esta imagem nao e deste celebre concerto, mas acho que esta imagem...)

No outro dia na BBC estava a dar um documentario sobre o Bob Marley, e houve uma passagem que parasita a minha massa cinzenta: "People tend to think that Beatles is the most universal music...but wrong, they are forgetting Bob Marley"

Depois de o Emule me ter dado a bencao do Rainbow Concert (pouco tempo depois da tentativa de assassinato) no Finsbury Park ... so de pensar como tera sido um concerto como este... "Our brothers from South Africa, Mozambique,...". Como diria Vinicius, sou o branco mais preto, e em Finsbury Park...

- Otis Redding

Naquelas noites em que nada parecia fazer sentido, em que o nosso companheiro de balco faz de proposito para ser ilogico e grita "Tenho uma arritmia no coracao e continuo a beber que nem um porco, mas se morrer hoje morro em boa companhia! por falar nisso deixa-me telefonar ao Martins....sinto os deuses a virem a terra, ai as Panateneias e as festas em honra a Dionisio" (ok, acrescentem alguns gafanhotos, uma entoacao a Camane bebam um copo de whiskey e conseguem imaginar) ... bem numa dessas noites, depois de na noite anterior ele me ter contado que tinha conhecido um americano de Baltimore (tinha nascido a alguns quarteiroes da casa da Billie Holiday) que tinha uma historia fabulosa acerca do Otis, encontramos o mesmo americano. Contou ele que o chamavam Otis em novo, e no dia que o aviao cai ele estava a jogar flippers quando lhe chega a noticia...resolveu ficar o resto da noite a jogar...flippers

Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay...fico triste por ele ter ficado conhecido por esta musica.

quinta-feira, dezembro 09, 2004


quarta-feira, dezembro 08, 2004

Vincent

Starry starry night,
paint your palet blue and grey
Look out on a summers day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills scetch the trees and the dafodills
Catch the breeze and the winter chiils
in colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your santity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry Starry Night,
Flamming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
reflect in Vincents eyes of the shine of blue.
Colors changing hue.
Morning fields of amber grey,
Withered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artists loving hand
Now i understand
What you tried to say to me
and how you suffered for your sanity
and how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
but still your love was true
and when no hope was left inside on that Starry,Starry night
you took your life as lovers often do.
But I could've told you Vincent,
this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you
Starry ,Starry Night,
Portraits hung in empty halls.
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
with eyes that watch the world and cant forget.
Like the strangers that you've met.
The raggid men in raggid clothes.
The silver thorn
A bloody rose lie crushed and broken on
the virgin slope
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your santity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen.
They're not listening still
perhaps they never will.


vangogh.jpg


MODUS OPERANDIS

Um jogo... é sem dúvida um jogo. Um misto de Póker e Xadrez...
Apenas as duas Candeias adptadas com lâmpadas vermelhas iluminavam o "Tasco".
- Já o Kasparov dizia: "- É como uma guerra, o objectivo é minar o inimigo psicologicamente para trucidá-lo no tabuleiro. - Ou como o André gostava de "colocar": "- Levar os outros a fazer aquilo que queremos, convencidos de que são eles que o querem fazer."
Continuei a esfumaçar; ao mesmo tempo meditava na cruel frieza destas duas afirmações.

8 de Dezembro de 1980
jl.jpg

Watching The Wheels

People say I'm crazy doing what I'm doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin
When I say that I'm o.k. well they look at me kind of strange
Surely you're not happy now you no longer play the game

People say I'm lazy dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me
When I tell them that I'm doing fine watching shadows on the wall
Don't you miss the big time boy you're no longer on the ball

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll

No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go

Ah, people asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them there's no problem, only solutions
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I've lost my mind
I tell them there's no hurry
I'm just sitting here doing time

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
I just had to let it go
I just had to let it go



1980.jpg
John Lennon tribute

Il était une fois l'espace

Olhando para tras, e apercebendo-me da televisao que via quando era puto comeco a compreender o porque das diferencas entre as geracoes.
Lembro-me de acordar as 7 da manha (sem qualquer esforco) para ir ver "Era uma vez o espaco", numa lufada de saudosismo andam a enviar as musicas dos bonecos que viamos. E verdade que depois veio "era uma vez o corpo humano" "era uma vez as americas",... a originalidade ficava um pouco abandonada... mas atentem as letras das musicas



"Lá em cima, há planícies sem fim
Há estrelas que parecem correr
Há o sol e a vida a nascer
Nós aqui sem parar numa terra a girar

Lá em cima, há um céu de cetim
Há cometas, há planetas sem fim
Galileu teve um sonho assim
Há uma nave no espaco, a subir passo a passo

Lá em cima pode ser o futuro
A alegria, vamos saltar o muro
E a rir, unidos num abraço
Vamos contar uma historia
Era uma vez... o Espaço

Lá em cima, já não há sentinelas
Sinfonia toda feita de estrelas
Uma casa sem portas nem janelas
É estenderes o braços e tu estás no espaço!"
por Paulo Carvalho

agora comparem com a celebre "dragon ball zzzz" por ?

terça-feira, dezembro 07, 2004

Mark Chapman: "The dream is over what can I say?"



Começo a concluir que Dezembro é um mau mês para ser artista.

FRANK ZAPPA

"FRANK:
Oh, every society is just a product of manipulation that is done to them by the government with the assistance of the educational system and with the assistance of any privately owned media - it's a package deal!" (full_interview)


Fez no passado dia 4 de Dezembro anos que a maldita prostata...

segunda-feira, dezembro 06, 2004

Que Bofetada...


Junto à ponte


Ela contou-me
Que foi sempre só
Quando eu lhe falei de amizade
Que muitos homens gozaram o corpo
Desde não sei já que idade
Como gostava de os acariciar
De cada vez que eles se vinham

Pela noite
Estremecendo devagarinho
Pela noite
Estremecendo devagarinho

Quando eles partiam já de manhã
Bebia a solidão de um trago
Comprava o dia
Com pouco dinheiro
O seu amor não é pago

Tu que duvidas da sua verdade
Assenta o lugar e a hora

Porque amanhã
Ela vai estar à tua espera
Amanhã ela vai estar à tua espera

Tu que foste traído
Tu que atraiçoaste

Tu que deixaste cair
Aquilo em que acreditaste
Tu desesperado que andas a monte
Não faltes ao teu encontro

Amanhã, ao fim da tarde,
Junto à ponte
Amanhã, ao fim da tarde,
Junto à ponte

Leva o corpo e leva a dor
Não esqueças os teus desejos

Sê violento se acaso te amedrontem os seus beijos
Mas não te faças rogado
É por ti que ela espera
Vai corre ao seu encontro


Amanhã, ao fim da tarde
Junto à ponte
Amanhã, ao fim da tarde
Junto à ponte

domingo, dezembro 05, 2004

Não retive as lágrimas...

Ao ouvir um dos inéditos (A culpa é da Vontade) do "variações" interpretado pelos "Humanos".


Christa Paeffgen





«Nico was one of the most fascinating and mysterious women of the multimedia revolution of The Sixties, and long after that till the present day. She was born on October 16th, 1938, in Cologne, in Nazi-controlled Germany. At the age of two she was taken to the little town of Spreewald on the outskirts of Berlin where she lived together with her mother and grandfather, a railway man, through the end of World War II. Her father died in a concentration camp.

Fleeing from the Russian occupation in 1946, mother and daughter wound up in the ruined American Sector of Berlin where Christa (Nico's real name is Christa Päffgen) worked part-time as a seamstress. She was sent to school till she was 13 years old, then took a job selling lingerie. After a year, her mother found her work as a model with a Berlin fashion house.

At 15 she was sent to the Isle of Ibiza on assignment and met the photographer who gave her the name Nico after a recently departed boyfriend of his, called Nico Papatakis. Later on she also met him as the owner of a night-club in Paris. She first appeared in For the First Time, starring Mario Lanza and directed by Rudolph Maté in a short scene shot in Capri between June and November 1958. At Ibiza Nico began a lifelong involvement with the isle. On holidays at a friend's villa in Rome, Nico was invited to the set of La Dolce Vita. Fellini noticed her standing off in a corner and offered her a sizable role in the film on the spot. It was 1959.

Her reputation grew and she and her mother left for Paris where Nico was signed to a much larger modeling agency. Soon her picture was appearing in magazines and commercials all over the world. Paris was her home for the next five years, with frequent holidays in Ibiza.

In 1960 Nico went to New York to model and enrolled in Lee Strassberg's Method School, joining the same class as Marilyn Monroe, in preparation for a career as a serious actress. In November 1962 she had a big role in a French movie called Strip-Tease, where she did an act with a doll on stage at a club. She made her very first recording with Serge Gainsbourg producing the title song Strip-Tease, but it was Juliette Gréco's version that was released instead.

In 1964 she met Brian Jones, through him she met Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham, and made her first record for his Immediate label: I'm Not Sayin, a Gordon Lightfoot song, produced by Jimmy Page.

Returning to New York later in 1964, Nico went back to work as a model and landed a job singing at the Blue Angel Lounge on 55th Street (all drinks 85¢). She had an affair with French actor Alain Delon, whom she had met in Italy in 1962, and had a child. Nico called the boy Ari. In that period everybody wanted to know that mysterious blonde girl, and gave her short but complete adoration.

Afterwards in Paris, Nico met Bob Dylan who urged her to pursue her career as singer and gave her a song: I'll Keep It with Mine, later recorded on the solo debut-album Chelsea Girl. Dylan wrote her a tribute on his album Blonde on Blonde called Visions of Johanna, later he introduced her to Andy Warhol who began to feature her in his and Paul Morrisey's experimental films.

Legend has it that Nico told Andy: 'I want to sing' and he introduced her to his latest protégés, The Velvet Underground, a part of Warhol's mixed-media Exploding Plastic Inevitable troupe until 1967. At that point Nico gave up modeling and spent a year touring with them. She joined then to sing in long improvisations as well as the classic Lou Reed compositions Femme Fatale, All Tomorrow's Parties and I'll Be Your Mirror. Even before the legendary Banana album was released she went her own way; the band worried about being eclipsed by her haunting, charismatic presence and forced her out of the line-up. The main reason was trouble between her, Lou and John Cale, jealously in love and hate, something Andy loved to witness.

But she had already begun singing at the downstairs bars of the legendary Dom Club, backed up by an ever-changing cast of guitar players including Tim Hardin, Tim Buckley, Ramblin' Jack Elliot, even three of The Velvets and most often the 16 year old Jackson Browne. For a while she lived with the young songwriter and recorded several of his early compositions in 1967 along with the song Dylan gave her, unrecorded Velvet Underground tunes like Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams and new Reed/Cale compositions for her solo-album Chelsea Girl.

The tone was set: her deep narcotic monotone voice became one of her trade-marks, as well as her low moans, high cheekbones and heavy make-up, a style resurrected by the goths, who anticipated the 'Nico From The Grave Look'. With John Cale as her producer she made three albums full of mysteries, loaded with strange sounds and feelings and she started touring in a small scale, mostly in France and Spain, sometimes in the early Seventies in New York's CBGB'S. Her performances in those times were unforgettable experiences; her singing, her playing on the old Indian pump organ, almost in a mystical intensity, echoing around the mind of the listener.

In 1969 she met film director Philippe Garrel in Italy and made ten movies with him over the next five years, shot on location in Iceland, Egypt and Death Valley. Most of these movies were long improvised scenes at the strangest places with a very hazy story, built around the main character.

1976—1979 found Nico more or less down and out in New York, she even had lost her manager and friend Lutz Ulbrich. She moved to London to record the Drama of Exile album in 1981, a record with an history of stolen master-tapes, re-recorded versions and most of all an unhappy Nico. But from that time her touring was more regular, mostly with young musicians, who brought a universal mystical oriental sound on stage, sometimes in contradiction with Nico's cool and static approach, always smoking and drinking, but always very intense and fragile in her performance. During this nowhere really at home. She loved things that were part of that.

After nearly a decade's wait she released in 1985 a new album, Camera Obscura, once again produced by John Cale. It was an album that placed Nico right in the middle of all the experiments that took place in the eighties. Some of the younger audience saw her as the return of a 'punk goddess', singing about the dark side of the street, but her performances became more and more a tribute to dead friends, a requiem-like atmosphere.

On 18 July 1988, she went for a bike-ride on the isle of Ibiza, she was visiting again, a bike rider of a healthy-living woman, almost clean of her narcotic past. people found her unconscious by the side of her bike, and took her to the Cannes Nisto Hospital, where she died at 8 pm of a brain hemorrhage. Not the thing we expected from the woman who always was living in places the sun couldn't reach, she remained in fact where she was, her whole life a mystery!» (Nico Songs)

Parece que estou a ouvir o John Belushi para o Robert De Niro e o Robin Williams, debaixo de um enxame de abelhas: "Eu sempre disse que fazer desporto fazia mal à saúde!"



Enquanto isso vou pensando na dificuldade que tive em pronunciar pela primeira vez phisycist

sábado, dezembro 04, 2004

Oh yeah. Oh so very freakin yeah.

Deus lhe pague.

Quem não tem nada a perder, não tem nada a perder.

Em6

sexta-feira, dezembro 03, 2004

Deus lhe pague

Chico Buarque
1971

Por esse pão pra comer, por esse chão pra dormir
A certidão pra nascer e a concessão pra sorrir
Por me deixar respirar, por me deixar existir
Deus lhe pague

Pelo prazer de chorar e pelo "estamos aí''
Pela piada no bar e o futebol pra aplaudir
Um crime pra comentar e um samba pra distrair
Deus lhe pague

Por essa praia, essa saia, pelas mulheres daqui
O amor malfeito depressa, fazer a barba e partir
Pelo domingo que é lindo, novela, missa e gibi
Deus lhe pague

Pela cachaça de graça que a gente tem que engolir
Pela fumaça, desgraça, que a gente tem que tossir
Pelos andaimes, pingentes, que a gente tem que cair
Deus lhe pague

Por mais um dia, agonia, pra suportar e assistir
Pelo rangido dos dentes, pela cidade a zunir
E pelo grito demente que nos ajuda a fugir
Deus lhe pague

Pela mulher carpideira pra nos louvar e cuspir
E pelas moscas-bicheiras a nos beijar e cobrir
E pela paz derradeira que enfim vai nos redimir
Deus lhe pague

Jean-Luc Godard


Ma man....parabéns!



Quanto ao post anterior...

Vivre sa Vie: Film en Douze Tableaux!

Cinco e qualquer coisa da madrugada... cinco e quarenta e oito... o sono foi-se.
A mente começou a preambular... incapaz de avançar... a "agulha" salta...

G.N.R... os "Cães do poder"... diria o meu amigo Leitão... numa clara analogia à "Quinta dos Porcos" do Orwell...

Ummagumma... tentar entrar em contacto comigo mesmo... ou "Flipar" de vez

Bem... Sísifo, toca a empurrar pedra encosta a cima... Ahhh, a tarefa inútil, banal...

Só espero que esta MERDA não acabe como o Estrangeiro do Camus.


quinta-feira, dezembro 02, 2004

From my point of view, one of the best jazz recordings.


The Complete Pacific Jazz Recordings of the Gerry Mulligan Quartet with Chet Baker(1957)



Review by Scott Yanow
Baritonist Gerry Mulligan's pianoless quartet of 1952-1953 with trumpeter Chet Baker was one of the most popular groups of the period and an influential force on West Coast Jazz. Mulligan's interplay with Baker looked back toward the collective improvisation of Dixieland but utilized up-to-date harmonies. This four-CD set overlaps with a previous (and now out-of-print) five-LP Mosaic box. In addition to all of the Pacific Jazz (as opposed to Fantasy and GNP/Crescendo) recordings of the Mulligan Quartet (including the hit version of "My Funny Valentine"), this box has a few slightly earlier titles that find Mulligan gradually forming the group (even utilizing pianist Jimmie Rowles on two songs), tunes from live sessions in which altoist Lee Konitz made the band a quintet, the 1957 Mulligan-Baker set called Reunion, and an Annie Ross date from the same period (leaving out the numbers that have Art Farmer in Baker's place). Despite both musicians remaining active for over 30 years, Mulligan and Baker only teamed up again on one occasion, for a 1970s Carnegie Hall concert released by CTI. The consistently delightful music on this box (much of which is classic) is highly recommended for all jazz collections.
(www.allmusic.com)

C'era una volta il West (1968)



Il Buono, il brutto, il cattivo (1966)




Per un pugno di dollari (1964)






quarta-feira, dezembro 01, 2004

Running over the same old grounds

Percorrer os velhos caminhos... para alguns, viver é percorrer os caminhos menos trilhados... para mim é tentar perceber porque percorri certos caminhos... tentar reencontrar o que fui deixando cair ao longo do percurso... só entao ... refeito ... avançar e percorrer novos trilhos.

Os seminaristas antes das refeições lavam as mãos e dizem: Senhor, lavai-me de todos os pecados e limpai toda a minha iniquidade...


wish.jpg

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