Saturday, May 29, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Let's Disappear 'Till Tomorow
Suns up we wait
All day
Suns up we wait
All day all day
The hell outsides kept away
If only we could move away
From here
This is how
We build a place
An aviary for today
An aviary for today
Let's disappear till tomorrow
Let's disappear till tomorrow
Disappear
Disappear
Blow up these play parades
Let's go
To an aviary far from home
To an aviary far from home
A one hand clap is me and you
And you and you and you
While the hell outsides kept away
If only we moved away
Disappear
Disappear
Last vacation was the same
We got moved away
Last vacation was the same
We got moved away
Last vacation was the same
We got moved away
Sun down now we have built
Our place
An aviary forever
An aviary forever
Forever forever
Reappear
Reappear
Reappear
All day
Suns up we wait
All day all day
The hell outsides kept away
If only we could move away
From here
This is how
We build a place
An aviary for today
An aviary for today
Let's disappear till tomorrow
Let's disappear till tomorrow
Disappear
Disappear
Blow up these play parades
Let's go
To an aviary far from home
To an aviary far from home
A one hand clap is me and you
And you and you and you
While the hell outsides kept away
If only we moved away
Disappear
Disappear
Last vacation was the same
We got moved away
Last vacation was the same
We got moved away
Last vacation was the same
We got moved away
Sun down now we have built
Our place
An aviary forever
An aviary forever
Forever forever
Reappear
Reappear
Reappear
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Ian
In the end it doesn't really matter...
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
These sensations barely interest me for another day
I've got 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'm watching her, I'll take no pity from you friends
Who is right, who can tell and who gives a damn right now
Until the spirit new sensation takes hold, then you know
I've got the spirit, but lose the feeling
Feeling
Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man
These sensations barely interest me for another day
I've got 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'm watching her, I'll take no pity from you friends
Who is right, who can tell and who gives a damn right now
Until the spirit new sensation takes hold, then you know
I've got the spirit, but lose the feeling
Feeling
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
May 18
What would Ian be if he was still alive 30 years after? No one can tell.
Though he wouldn't be a singer of a "cult" band for sure.
Though he wouldn't be a singer of a "cult" band for sure.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Days go on and on, they don't end
"The days go on and on... they don't end. All my life needed was a sense of some place to go..."
"Now I see this clearly. My whole life is pointed in one direction. There never has been a choice for me."
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At the Berlinale 2010, De Niro, Scorsese and Lars von Trier announced plans to work on the sequel, with a shoot planned for late 2010. Would be very interesting to see what they come up with, if so.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Find a New City...or a Planet
I've been just recently thinking about all that stuff about moving into a foreign city with no one who you'd known before and starting a living on your own and stuff. I've been thinking how easy and simple it seems to do it from all the stories I've read, heard or seen in a movie. Like for example all the artists coming to New York City in the 40's, 50's, 60's or 70's whether they were poets, painters, junkies, lost souls or whoever. Or like the musicians coming to London Camden Town or to Berlin later in the 20th century. How simple it is to just come and get to know all those people...like standing by the doors of Chelsea Hotel for days and nights and then suddenly bumping into Jimi Hendrix who actually starts to talk to you or San Francisco and smoking a joint with Allen Ginsberg or stuff. It just sounds so easy. Almost like a fairy tale. But I'm not sure it's that way now. Nor it was that way years ago. Of course it wasn't. People just tend to glorify past. Anyway, New York or London is certainly not that kind of city that would gladly welcome any searching person right now.
During a recent panel discussion and audience Q&A discussion in New York, someone asked Patti Smith if it was still possible for a young artist to move to New York City and live a similar life to the one that Smith, Robert Mapplethorpe and other artists did years ago. Patti responded by recalling her move to Manhattan during the 1967 "Summer of Love," when one could still rent a cheap apartment and "build a whole community of transvestites or artists or writers.'" As for today, however: "New York has closed itself off to the young and the struggling. But there are other cities. Detroit. Poughkeepsie. New York City has been taken away from you. So my advice is: Find a new city."
During a recent panel discussion and audience Q&A discussion in New York, someone asked Patti Smith if it was still possible for a young artist to move to New York City and live a similar life to the one that Smith, Robert Mapplethorpe and other artists did years ago. Patti responded by recalling her move to Manhattan during the 1967 "Summer of Love," when one could still rent a cheap apartment and "build a whole community of transvestites or artists or writers.'" As for today, however: "New York has closed itself off to the young and the struggling. But there are other cities. Detroit. Poughkeepsie. New York City has been taken away from you. So my advice is: Find a new city."
All in all, although I really would like to believe what Patti says, I'm kind of sceptical on this. In this age of the internet and all that globalisation, glocalisation, etc. getting more personal on the social networks and the internet in whole just means getting more alienated with other people. It may sound quite contradictionary but to me it makes sense: getting more personal = getting more drift away. One personally doesn't want to share every single thing about one's privacy with 200+ so called friends on facebook. Although of course there might be also some real friends (or we can say all of them are real but are just don't interested in all that stuff). However, the amount of time spent on these sites - eventhough it doesn't have to be that enormous in the end - is big enough to make one feel tired of sharing something about one's self. Not just sharing, but it might make you feel more alone, lonely even. Now it reminds me of the urbanisation and industrialisation impacts and effects on individuals. By all those changes a man felt alienated. Everyone else was alienated. The work he did was alienated from him. And now this feels like another level. I can't imagine how this will develop and where it will take us. It certainly is an exciting time, everything is changing more and more faster. Though, it's a bit scary too.
Anyway, back to the topic that I started with. I'm really not sure if it is possible to start something like the artists did in the last century. To live a life like they did...I don't know. It seems like finding a new city is not enough. Finding a new planet - maybe. Haha. Though now I'm not thinking of the "invaders nature" of (the western/?/) human race at all. There are a lot of issues that are not solved (that's a bad word in fact - "being solved" is not the intention anyway). Intolerance, homophobia and fear of everything that's not "yours" - those are the things that are still present eventhough I would have thought they are actually not the case now when we live in this new modern tolerant democratic and FREE society (let me smile at this). It is here. And I'm not going to reveal any solution, any suggestion how to improve the actual state to end this blog with some stupid MAKE LOVE NOT WAR statement. I don't have a clue. I just don't know.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Neil McCormick: Bono's half century
By Neil McCormick, May 10th, 2010
Telegraph.co.uk
Today (Monday 10th) is Bono’s 50th birthday. The U2 singer has been on the planet for half a century, although for some it will probably seem longer. A band leader since he was 15, a rock star by the time he was 21, a global superstar at the age of 27, Bono has become one of the most ubiquitous celebrities on the planet, straddling the worlds of showbusiness and politics by the bridge of charitable activism.
Immediately recognisable by his trademark sunglasses and bullish Irish charm, Bono may be the most divisive, love-him-or-hate-him character in modern pop culture. For fans, and there are tens of millions of them, he is the greatest rock star of our age, a passionate heir to the pop art activism of John Lennon, leader of one the most extraordinary (and biggest selling) bands of our times. For his detractors, he is an egotistic pain in the neck, a God-bothering do-gooder always sticking his face where it doesn’t belong as a self-appointed, unelected, Messianic representative of the world’s poor, narcissistically boosting his self-esteem by hectoring and cajoling others to think of those worse of than themselves whilst hypocritically living the indulgent life of a super-rich, over-privileged tax dodger. I think that about covers it.
As a long-time friend and admirer, I have never quite understood why people get so upset about someone so obviously trying to do good, and indeed why people are so willing to ascribe negative values to transparently positive intentions. I have defended Bono before, which only unleashes ever increasing torrents of abuse. In my experience as a prolific music blogger, I have learned there are two things you cannot say without drawing the vitriol of poison posters: criticise Abba, or praise Bono.
It seems to me that this polarity of opinion regarding Bono has become so extreme, people no longer treat him as a human being. Rather he is a kind of idea of an image of a caricature of a caricature, and no matter what he says or does it will be twisted one way or another to serve pro and anti opinion of Bono, Saint or Devil.
The peculiar thing for me, of course, is that I not only know Bono, I’ve known him since before he became Bono. He wasn’t always a rock star, but he was always a complex, driven, passionate, mischievous but intensely well-meaning and essentially sincere character. He is a year older than me, and I always looked up to him and considered him a bit of a hero even in the corridors of a comprehensive school in Dublin. He was a nice guy then, and he’s a nice guy now. He’s married to his childhood sweetheart, our classmate Alison Stewart, which would be quite an achievement even if he weren’t a rock star with all the indulgence and privileges that career allows. Such is his media ubiquity, the modern Bono sometimes seems to know every significant figure on the planet, from popes to president to film stars and supermodels, but actually he still hangs out with a lot of the same friends he had back in those days. He’s fun to be around, clever and entertaining and a great includer, so that he draws people in, remembers peoples names, asks about wives and children, makes people feel that it is not all about him but about everyone present. And he’s such a passionate believer in the positive power of people to change the world that he is a hugely inspirational character to be around.
If he does seem a larger than life character it’s because he has allowed his extraordinary life to really fill him up. I love Brian Eno’s response when he was asked about Bono’s big ego. “Bono commits the crime of rising above your station. To the British, it’s the worst thing you can do. Bono is hated for doing something considered unbecoming for a pop star – meddling in things that apparently have nothing to do with him. He has a huge ego, no doubt about it. On the other hand, he has a huge brain and a huge heart. He’s just a big kind of person. That’s not easy for some to deal with. They don’t mind in Italy. They like larger-than-life people there. In most places in the world they don’t mind him. Here, they think he must be conning them.”
I remember the moment that inner rock star was unleashed, in the Mount Temple school gym, in Autumn 1976, when the band that would become U2 played their first show. He stood on a stage of school tables held together by masking tape and, as the band played Peter Frampton’s ‘Show Me The Way’, he picked up the microphone and started to stamp and roar. It was like an electric charge went through the room. The girls in the gymnasium actually started to scream. It was a transformative moment, no doubt about it. “It was really a feeling of liberation,” Bono told me once. “It’s like you’ve jumped into the sea and discovered you can swim. Everything changed for me, cause now I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”
And so Bono became a rock star. But he never stopped being himself. He’s fifty years old now, married with children of his own, a loyal husband, a good father, a genuinely nice guy. When I see him now, I can still recognise the boy in the man. I wish more people could see that. But, in thirty years of rock and roll, his detractors haven’t managed to bring him down yet. I’m betting he’s going to be getting on their nerves for a while yet.
Telegraph.co.uk
Today (Monday 10th) is Bono’s 50th birthday. The U2 singer has been on the planet for half a century, although for some it will probably seem longer. A band leader since he was 15, a rock star by the time he was 21, a global superstar at the age of 27, Bono has become one of the most ubiquitous celebrities on the planet, straddling the worlds of showbusiness and politics by the bridge of charitable activism.
Immediately recognisable by his trademark sunglasses and bullish Irish charm, Bono may be the most divisive, love-him-or-hate-him character in modern pop culture. For fans, and there are tens of millions of them, he is the greatest rock star of our age, a passionate heir to the pop art activism of John Lennon, leader of one the most extraordinary (and biggest selling) bands of our times. For his detractors, he is an egotistic pain in the neck, a God-bothering do-gooder always sticking his face where it doesn’t belong as a self-appointed, unelected, Messianic representative of the world’s poor, narcissistically boosting his self-esteem by hectoring and cajoling others to think of those worse of than themselves whilst hypocritically living the indulgent life of a super-rich, over-privileged tax dodger. I think that about covers it.
As a long-time friend and admirer, I have never quite understood why people get so upset about someone so obviously trying to do good, and indeed why people are so willing to ascribe negative values to transparently positive intentions. I have defended Bono before, which only unleashes ever increasing torrents of abuse. In my experience as a prolific music blogger, I have learned there are two things you cannot say without drawing the vitriol of poison posters: criticise Abba, or praise Bono.
It seems to me that this polarity of opinion regarding Bono has become so extreme, people no longer treat him as a human being. Rather he is a kind of idea of an image of a caricature of a caricature, and no matter what he says or does it will be twisted one way or another to serve pro and anti opinion of Bono, Saint or Devil.
The peculiar thing for me, of course, is that I not only know Bono, I’ve known him since before he became Bono. He wasn’t always a rock star, but he was always a complex, driven, passionate, mischievous but intensely well-meaning and essentially sincere character. He is a year older than me, and I always looked up to him and considered him a bit of a hero even in the corridors of a comprehensive school in Dublin. He was a nice guy then, and he’s a nice guy now. He’s married to his childhood sweetheart, our classmate Alison Stewart, which would be quite an achievement even if he weren’t a rock star with all the indulgence and privileges that career allows. Such is his media ubiquity, the modern Bono sometimes seems to know every significant figure on the planet, from popes to president to film stars and supermodels, but actually he still hangs out with a lot of the same friends he had back in those days. He’s fun to be around, clever and entertaining and a great includer, so that he draws people in, remembers peoples names, asks about wives and children, makes people feel that it is not all about him but about everyone present. And he’s such a passionate believer in the positive power of people to change the world that he is a hugely inspirational character to be around.
If he does seem a larger than life character it’s because he has allowed his extraordinary life to really fill him up. I love Brian Eno’s response when he was asked about Bono’s big ego. “Bono commits the crime of rising above your station. To the British, it’s the worst thing you can do. Bono is hated for doing something considered unbecoming for a pop star – meddling in things that apparently have nothing to do with him. He has a huge ego, no doubt about it. On the other hand, he has a huge brain and a huge heart. He’s just a big kind of person. That’s not easy for some to deal with. They don’t mind in Italy. They like larger-than-life people there. In most places in the world they don’t mind him. Here, they think he must be conning them.”
I remember the moment that inner rock star was unleashed, in the Mount Temple school gym, in Autumn 1976, when the band that would become U2 played their first show. He stood on a stage of school tables held together by masking tape and, as the band played Peter Frampton’s ‘Show Me The Way’, he picked up the microphone and started to stamp and roar. It was like an electric charge went through the room. The girls in the gymnasium actually started to scream. It was a transformative moment, no doubt about it. “It was really a feeling of liberation,” Bono told me once. “It’s like you’ve jumped into the sea and discovered you can swim. Everything changed for me, cause now I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”
And so Bono became a rock star. But he never stopped being himself. He’s fifty years old now, married with children of his own, a loyal husband, a good father, a genuinely nice guy. When I see him now, I can still recognise the boy in the man. I wish more people could see that. But, in thirty years of rock and roll, his detractors haven’t managed to bring him down yet. I’m betting he’s going to be getting on their nerves for a while yet.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Daft Punk's Electroma
drei wetter taft punk / knight rider + space odyssey + zabriskie point + Isaac Asimov
Friday, May 7, 2010
Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai
Slightly a different feeling when I was watching it now as when I first saw it about six years ago. Which is a difference when you're 16. Plus it was at home. In Denver. The parents were on holiday. I was alone. For the first time. Very late at night. About 2 or 3 a.m. (which was really late for me back then. Now even 8 a.m. isn't that late. But that's a different story...). And those were strange days...or weeks even. Moon was playing tricks. As was the strange stuff we smoked at the party the previous night. Ay, good ol' dayz...
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
A Secret
a secret is something you tell one other person so i'm telling you, child...
I guess Interpol are about to reveal some secret in a next few weeks or months. New picture and no further info at all. Just a sign that says: INTERPOL 2010.
In a new film called 'Killing Bono' they say they'll reveal one of the first U2 songs ever. They say they even didn't call themselves U2 but The Hype back then. They say it has never been released. They say it's called Secret Mission (not Street Mission). They say, they say, they say....
Kele is going to premiere his first single Tenderoni from the solo album on Zane Lowe's show BBC radio 1 tonight.
In a new film called 'Killing Bono' they say they'll reveal one of the first U2 songs ever. They say they even didn't call themselves U2 but The Hype back then. They say it has never been released. They say it's called Secret Mission (not Street Mission). They say, they say, they say....
Kele is going to premiere his first single Tenderoni from the solo album on Zane Lowe's show BBC radio 1 tonight.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Three White Wolves
Autobiography - Patti Smith
great human wild animal
amoral
an outlaw
keep watch over her
I was born in Illinois...mainline of America...
beat to shit...Chicago tenement
big red eyd rats in the night...dead rats to tease at night
Morning...I waired for the organ grinder
with my nickle for the monkeys tin cup
gingerbread man,,,cotton candy man
bad girl setting fire to the oil cans
run like hell escape on the icemans truck
I was a lisping ugly duck
but I had good luck
Mama filled me with fantasy...my bears danced at midnight
even my toybox had a soul
Mama called me her goat girl...little black sheep
I loved my brother and sister: Todd and Linda
we drank each others blood...were double blood brothers
we rolled in fields...three white wolves...we practiced telepathy
no one could seperate us...our minds were one
One, little one eye...I had an eyepatch...I walked like a duck
In the yards the nursery children cried Quack Quack
I didn't care and I didn't fight back.
I floated off...fantasy gave me fire...I was made of water
the moon caused tidal waves and I'd cry like a coyote.
I learned to drift...magik...taroc pack
I paraded in thirty disguises
and when people laughed at my carnival family
We didn't care...We had amour:
Daddy was a tap dancer...acrobat...wild horse
tracing pornography through the bible.
Mama was the dream of every sailor...bootlegged whiskey
called spirits from the evenings half moon...dream weaver
We braved hurricanes...a new baby came...I named her Kim
the neighbors were suspicious...they called us witches
we didn't care...we were laughing and dancing and damned
and there was always music
Hank Williams crying off the lonesomes
funny valentine...Patty Waters
beat of the drum...bartok
song of the swamp rat
rock and roll music
rock and roll music
Rythum
On my own...my own rythums:
rythum of the railroad
steamheat of the factory
Alabama blues on a migrant bus
but as a blueberry picker I failed...I dreamed too much
the berry crop died...my mother smiled.
I ran off...I traveled...I broke down
kept running...TB trapped in the lung...spitting on the railroad track
I shook...I drank...rythum of one too many rhums
Drunk and broke down I slinked home...grabbed my sisters hand
and away we run...we took a frighter to Iceland
railway to Paris...Pigalle and wine in a black dress
I joined the fire eaters and sang in the streets...using all I learned
from Lotte Lenya...Bob Dylan...and motorcycle rock n'roll
We lived near a wishing well...milked goats...capyured snails
and crawled back to New York.
New York my greatest love:
Rise of the building
flash of 42nd street...the pool halls...the hustlers
the trucks along tenth avenue
the helicopter yards
ghost of Jackson Pollock
human shit and dead dog floating on the Hudson River
moving...I kept moving
dreaming:
Panama...heart of adventure
the hot life of Mexico
the drunkard...the dock worker
Rythum...flash of white hair...winter
the Jesters...the Paragons
rise of the blue heron
breathe through the great rythum
scream through the Shepard
sing through that rock n'roll music
rock n'roll music
rock n'roll music
rock n'roll
I paraded in thirty disguises
and when people laughed at my carnival family
We didn't care...We had amour:
Daddy was a tap dancer...acrobat...wild horse
tracing pornography through the bible.
Mama was the dream of every sailor...bootlegged whiskey
called spirits from the evenings half moon...dream weaver
We braved hurricanes...a new baby came...I named her Kim
the neighbors were suspicious...they called us witches
we didn't care...we were laughing and dancing and damned
and there was always music
Hank Williams crying off the lonesomes
funny valentine...Patty Waters
beat of the drum...bartok
song of the swamp rat
rock and roll music
rock and roll music
Rythum
On my own...my own rythums:
rythum of the railroad
steamheat of the factory
Alabama blues on a migrant bus
but as a blueberry picker I failed...I dreamed too much
the berry crop died...my mother smiled.
I ran off...I traveled...I broke down
kept running...TB trapped in the lung...spitting on the railroad track
I shook...I drank...rythum of one too many rhums
Drunk and broke down I slinked home...grabbed my sisters hand
and away we run...we took a frighter to Iceland
railway to Paris...Pigalle and wine in a black dress
I joined the fire eaters and sang in the streets...using all I learned
from Lotte Lenya...Bob Dylan...and motorcycle rock n'roll
We lived near a wishing well...milked goats...capyured snails
and crawled back to New York.
New York my greatest love:
Rise of the building
flash of 42nd street...the pool halls...the hustlers
the trucks along tenth avenue
the helicopter yards
ghost of Jackson Pollock
human shit and dead dog floating on the Hudson River
moving...I kept moving
dreaming:
Panama...heart of adventure
the hot life of Mexico
the drunkard...the dock worker
Rythum...flash of white hair...winter
the Jesters...the Paragons
rise of the blue heron
breathe through the great rythum
scream through the Shepard
sing through that rock n'roll music
rock n'roll music
rock n'roll music
rock n'roll
.jpg)
Published in The Patti Smith Fan Club, Journal, #6,
July of 1978 and luckily seen the light of a day again
just recently thanks to Don from Eternal Cafe.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
This Is My Band
This is my band and tonight I discovered this:
Meanwhile I've been listening to:
Foals - Total Life Forever
Caribou - Swim
Caribou - Andorra
Caribou - The Milk of Human Kindness
Bonobo - Days To Come
Massive Attack - Collected
Four Tet - Remixes
Four Tet - Rounds
Radiohead - Amnesiac
Radiohead - Ok Computer
Damon Albarn & Michael Nyman - Ravenous soundtrack
Damon Albarn - Democrazy
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Murder Ballads
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Let Love In
Joy Division - Uknown Pleasures
Joy Division - Closer
Joy Division - Substance
...last 24 hours
New Foals album is promising. Caribou's Swim is pretty good too.
Caribou - Andorra
Caribou - The Milk of Human Kindness
Bonobo - Days To Come
Massive Attack - Collected
Four Tet - Remixes
Four Tet - Rounds
Radiohead - Amnesiac
Radiohead - Ok Computer
Damon Albarn & Michael Nyman - Ravenous soundtrack
Damon Albarn - Democrazy
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Murder Ballads
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Let Love In
Joy Division - Uknown Pleasures
Joy Division - Closer
Joy Division - Substance
...last 24 hours
New Foals album is promising. Caribou's Swim is pretty good too.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Iceland is Punk
Iceland is taking the piss out of the western society. The last real punk
around. So enjoy the look on the sky, Europe. For some time it might
be quite quiet up there. And crystal clear. When no planes go.
around. So enjoy the look on the sky, Europe. For some time it might
be quite quiet up there. And crystal clear. When no planes go.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
These Boots Are Made For Walking
Not a Converse fan, not a shoe (but a Schoo!) fan, not a "let's make money
on some dead but great band" fan... but these boots are made for walking!
on some dead but great band" fan... but these boots are made for walking!
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