Sobre Coimbra vs. Barcelos

Os Glockenwise em entrevista ao Ípsilon:

Este conhecimento do terreno não o impede de fazer o elogio da microcena. "Pode haver o paralelo Coimbra-Barcelos, 50 bandas a aparecer e desaparecer, todos amigos... É o que acontece em Barcelos, mas com uma grande diferença, que é o que faz Barcelos mais interessante do que Coimbra alguma vez poderia ser: nós não tocamos todos rockabilly ou punk, temos bandas doom, stoner, rock'n'roll, música celta, o que tu quiseres". Tudo contra o tédio.

Muito bem dito.

Top para aqui, top para ali

Estamos nessa fase, de resumir um ano em tops disto e daquilo.

De todos os que vi, aquele de que mais gostei foi o do We Listen For You. Já dizia o Miguel Esteves Cardoso que os álbuns que marcam alguém são os muito bons, claro, e os muito maus. O top do WLFY não partilha com ninguém os melhores, mas sim os 5 piores discos de 2010.

Foi o top de que mais gostei, mas não é necessariamente aquele com que mais me identifico, até porque não ouvi tudo o que lá está. Mas não tenho dúvidas de que os Vampire Weekend merecem o seu lugar entre os cinco piores discos deste ano (e não sou cabeçudo o suficiente para dizer que merecem um lugar nos 5 piores de sempre, até porque toda a gente sabe que o David Hasselhoff tem uma discografia).

Fora de contexto o Elton John é mais fixe

Vou descontextualizar completamente uma frase do Elton John e fazê-la valer pela minha opinião: "A pop contemporânea não é muito inspiradora."

Dito isto, podem ver o contexto AQUI e, como eu, ficarem tristes, ou ficarem simplesmente confusos.

Mais uma entrevista a Albini

Esta vem por sugestão na caixa de comentários. E vem bem bem. Ora vejam:

"(...)
E qual é a sua conexão com o pessoal do ATP? Você é algum tipo de conselheiro?
Não exatamente. Sou amigo há bastante tempo do Barry e da Debbie, as pessoas que organizam o ATP, e temos uma antiga associação com o festival. Tocamos no segundo ano, e depois fomos curadores de outra edição. Nós tocamos basicamente todas as vezes que eles nos convidam. O ATP é de fato notável. Eles mudaram a maneira como os festivais funcionam, no mundo inteiro. Antes do ATP os festivais eram desses eventos deploráveis só voltados para o lucro, e todas as bandas associadas que tocavam o faziam por alguma razão estranha voltada para o lucro. Ninguém realmente achava que os festivais tinham alguma personalidade. Era somente um caminho para fazer dinheiro fácil durante uma turnê. Ou bandas menores que não eram muito conhecidas usavam os festivais como uma forma de gerar algum interesse na banda, e eles ainda eram obrigados a pagar para tocar em alguns desses festivais. A coisa toda era institucionalizada e bastante desagradável. O ATP de fato mudou tudo. Ter uma banda escolhendo outras bandas, como curadores endossando as outras bandas, e tendo o dinheiro distribuído de uma maneira igualitária entre as bandas, e tendo as bandas e os patrocinadores convivendo juntos de uma maneira mais social… é totalmente único. Isso realmente mudou a maneira como os festivais são organizados. Como o ATP teve sucesso fazendo isso, todos os outros festivais tiveram que melhorar e providenciar uma maior variedade de artistas. Tiveram que tratar melhor as bandas, serem mais igualitários na maneira como as bandas e os patrocinadores são tratados. Eles realmente forçaram outras pessoas a competirem com eles. Tenho muito respeito por isso.

(...)

Você mencionou algo sobre bandas pagarem para tocar em festivais. Nós temos uma grande discussão no Brasil, de bandas que bancam para tocar em festivais, enquanto outras acham isso errado.
Isso é utópico. Um festival deve ser organizado de uma forma que bandas que as pessoas gostariam de ver são apresentadas para as pessoas que gostariam de ver as bandas. Se alguém está pagando para tocar significa que existe um critério diferente envolvido, e instantaneamente me faz suspeitar do festival. Me faz achar que há algo fundamentalmente errado. Não necessariamente acho que as bandas que estão pagando para tocar estão fazendo algo errado, só estão fazendo algo tolo. Mas não coloco alguma consideração moral ou ética nisso. Acho que elas estão fazendo algo tolo porque elas estão pagando por algo que elas deveriam estar recebendo. E elas também estão se apresentando para um público que não gosta delas o suficiente para pagar. Então elas estão fazendo um show que talvez não valha a pena fazer, gastando dinheiro pelo privilégio de fazer um show que não vale à pena. É tolo, mas não necessariamente algo eticamente ou moralmente errado. Quem promove, o pessoal que está aceitando esse dinheiro, estes sim estão fazendo algo eticamente errado.

(...)

O que você acha de jornalismo musical? Eu estava lendo o fórum do Electrical Audio e vi um post seu com opiniões bem fortes sobre o tema.
Bem, o problema com jornalismo musical é que ele é publicado em um jornal como se fosse jornalismo de verdade, mas no qual os padrões profissionais do jornalismo não se aplicam. Em um artigo normal, se um repórter publica algo fundamentalmente incorreto, como o nome do prefeito ou de um esportista famoso, ele é demitido. Não é aceitável no jornalismo convencional encontrar fatos simples apresentados de maneira errada. No jornalismo musical, ninguém se importa. Você pode publicar um monte de coisas erradas e só rola um: “ok, não tem problema, não importa”. Não é levado a sério. Jornalismo musical não é levado a sério como jornalismo nem pelas pessoas que o praticam, nem pelas publicações que o usam. Então, um monte de informação errada é publicada e acaba virando registro histórico. Se alguém escreve algo incorreto em um jornal ou em um website e depois dez outros jornais ou websites fazem referência a essa informação errada, isso se transforma em algo inconcreto, e dali para frente vira história. E eu acho isso terrível, porque existe jornalismo de verdade que poderia ser feito. Tem um monte de assuntos que tem a ver com música. Por exemplo, o que você descreveu, de bandas pagarem para tocar em festivais, ou festivais aceitando dinheiro do governo e sendo tão ineficientes que não podem pagar as bandas, isso são pautas para jornalismo de verdade. Alguém deveria escrever sobre isso. O público de música se interessaria por isso. Poderia ser jornalismo de verdade. Mas ninguém está escrevendo esses artigos. Ao invés disso eles estão escrevendo coisas como o que essa pessoa está vestindo, ou que tipo de maquiagem esse outro está usando, quem está namorando com quem ou quem usa drogas, essas coisas. Isso é merda, pura merda. E mesmo nessa área limitada de merda, jornalistas musicais podem publicar erros fundamentais que ninguém se importa.

Eu tenho amigos jornalistas e o que eles dizem de publicar artigos estúpidos, como o que as pessoas vestem, acabam tendo mais leituras. Eles acompanham os links nos sites e portais e esses artigos são sempre os mais lidos. As pessoas realmente querem saber o que os outros estão vestindo.
Não existe nenhuma lei que diz que jornalismo deve ser feito para as pessoas mais estúpidas do mundo. Se o seu jornalismo é feito para atrair o máximo de pessoas de algum tipo para lerem o que você escreve, então não há razão para fazer algo específico em música. Porque se você escrever sobre outra coisa, então mais pessoas vão ler. Se você escrever sobre a Copa do Mundo, mais pessoas vão ler do que sobre música, então por que você está escrevendo sobre música? Se você decidiu que quer escrever sobre música, essa é uma decisão sua não baseada no que é mais popular. Então você tem uma obrigação de levar isso a sério, porque você escolheu escrever sobre música. O argumento de que isso é mais popular, “é isso que as pessoas gostam”, não significa nada para mim. Porque o que é popular, o que as pessoas gostam, é de McDonald’s, Coca-Cola. Isso é popular. Mas não é necessariamente a melhor coisa para comer ou beber. E se você escrever sobre comida, talvez você deva escrever sobre as melhores comidas que as pessoas podem comer ou beber, ou dizer que tipo de problema elas teriam se elas só comessem McDonald’s e tomassem Coca-Cola.
(...)"

Não se pode dizer que o Trent Reznor seja preguiçoso

Bem pelo contrário, o homem vai ficando velho, mas tem a energia de lâmpada eléctrica. Piadas parvas e inventadas agora de parte, não é só a tal banda sonora para o filme sobre a tal rede social que o Trent Reznor tem feito. Fê-lo, é verdade, e fê-lo muito bem.

Mas, sobre isso, tem dado entrevistas (como ESTA) e mostrado o seu charme da melhor maneira possível.

E não só! Ainda conseguiu convencer a HBO de que Year Zero era uma história do arco da velha! Ou seja, teremos uma mini-série sobre o tema do álbum, o que me parece fantástico. Principalmente porque, deste blogue, acompanhei o fenómeno como alguém que não tenha mais nada para fazer faria. Escrevi mesmo algo a resumir a situação da altura AQUI (sim, dou-me ao luxo de me citar a mim mesmo. Posso desculpar-me com Hitchcock?).

Entrevista a Steve Albini

A coisa foi feita na GQ e tem um título fantástico: Punk Pioneer Steve Albini on Music Festivals, The Future of Radio and Why He Wants GQ To Fail.

Parece-me muito bem e a coisa está toda disponível AQUI.

Façam bom proveito.

O prazer de citar

Existe e eu sinto-o em plenitude quando o faço em relação a este blogue. Há sempre uma magia fascinante a rondar a cabeça do vocalista de Silver Mt. Zion.

Só verdades...

Não percebo o que é que ele quer dizer sobre o COyote, mas de resto é tudo verdades e tenho pena de ele não ter feito um set semelhante por cá.

"Tonight I had the fortune of hearing Kayo Dot perform this album in it’s entirety. It was one of those shows that was so beautiful, I’m still somewhat in shock. I’m just really upset that their second set, a performance of their forthcoming album Coyote. Released on John Zorn’s Tzadik label, this album, much like everything on that label, has a very difficult to describe sound. Mixing avant-garde jazz and progressive metal to create a challenging, albeit incredible rewarding, album, frontman Toby Driver proves that he can still compose (yes, these are more compositions than just ’songs’) after his days with Maudlin of the Well. Definitely give this album a listen, it’s become on of the best albums of the decade."

@ Shock Mountain

Sabem porque é que o Trent Reznor vai pôr a música de parte?

Porque gosta de jogos. Sim, videojogos. É verdade. Acho que quase toda a gente teve a sua fase do Gameboy ou do CS. O Trent Reznor teve a fase do Pong, do Metroid, do Castlevania, do Quake (fez a banda sonora para um dos jogos desta série), do Doom e, claro, do Year Zero, um Alternate Reality Game que ele mesmo desenvolveu em conjunto com o estúdio que pôs cá fora jogos como o Unreal.

Agora, Trent Reznor vê as coisas numa perspectiva diferente, não apenas na perspectiva de músico/compositor. Falou de tudo isso e de mais algumas coisas nesta entrevista à Joystiq sobre a sua relação com jogos. Uma coisa é certa: Trent Reznor acha o Super Mário demasiado burguês e não se consegue identificar com ele (sendo o Super Mário um canalizador, vejo-me obrigado a meter o mentor de NIN num extremo muito extremo da esquerda). Ah! Ele também conta quais os seus projectos para o futuro, coisas que o levaram a meter NIN em stand-by, por agora. Leia-se:

"Rob [Sheridan] and I are working on a project together that's moving forward and focuses on the creation of content from a developer's perspective. Would I do music for an everyday game? Meh. I'm not thrilled about the idea, but if someone cool came to me and had this great game, then I'd consider it. Just like if a great director came to me and said, "I'm doing a film would you want to do the music?" I'd consider it.

That's not my dream job, to be honest with you. The idea of making a cool game or making a cool software platform, now that's wildly exciting to me! Content creation is where me and Rob are headed.

That's sort of a direct result of what we did with Year Zero, in terms of the ARG and presenting it. That was, from my perspective, the most rewarding creative experience, musical or not. Being able to take this world and present it to people in a creative way. It wasn't a game, it wasn't a website, it was kind of all those things in one. It was an experience where it was fun to use all the different kinds of mediums that are available now and, in the end, kind of creep into people's minds.

I like playing shows, and I can play shows. I've played big shows and I've played shitty shows. I've played where people show up and played where people don't show. But what excites me is working on stuff like the Year Zero project more than my current thing. I could keep doing shows. I'm pretty good at it, but I want to fucking start something that I might suck at and try that. You know, to see what it's like to suck for once."

Ou seja:

"We're working on some things that will start to come into fruition post Nine Inch Nails and post our tour. That's one of the reasons I'm stopping the tour, because there are all these other things that I've been wanting to do that are outside playing shows. While I enjoy doing Nine Inch Nails and touring, I've done it enough where there are a lot of other things I'd like to get into. One of those things ... well, I'm probably saying too much, because if it doesn't happen then I'll have to answer questions about it for the next five years. Let's just say that one of the things that's highest priority for me and Rob is the development of some entertainment-based video game–type stuff."

É provável que, mais tarde ou mais cedo, haja uma experiência nova no mundo dos videojogos assinada por T-Rez e Rob Sheridan. Eu estou curioso e, confesso, mal posso esperar. "It's a simple idea. It's kind of dumb and obvious, but could be fun." Para mim serve.

Entrevista a João Pedro Coimbra (Andrew Thorn)

Arrisco-me a dizer que foi das melhores entrevistas feitas no Ponto Alternativo. João Pedro Coimbra foi baterista dos Bandemónio, é o mentor dos Mesa e agora tem este novo projecto, os Andrew Thorn. Têm aqui uma boa forma de se familiarizar com ele.

Música Escrita #9

Andava eu a ler algumas coisas sobre Altar of Plagues quando me cruzei com uma coisa curiosa, numa entrevista com o mentor da banda, J. O' Ceallaigh. Já lá vamos. Esta banda fascina-me seriamente, muito porque, para uma banda de Black Metal, foge ao ruído e à matrecada, isto é, não se limita a guitarras apocalípticas, melancólicas e melodiosas de forma arrepiante, consegue criar toda uma ambiência e recorre a uma lentidão que não é bem do género. Há algo de especial no Black Metal dos Altar of Plagues que não é fácil de compreender.

Curiosamente, a entrevista na Lords of Metal que estive a ler toca nesse mesmo ponto e o mentor da banda dá uma óptima resposta - das melhores possíveis, na minha singela opinião. Ora vejam:

"Although black metal seems to be a key element in your music, it doesn't quite cover the whole spectrum. Your range of influences appears to be wider. Could you explain us your main influences?
I personally listen to everything and anything so I have no preferences in that regard. When it comes to writing for AoP I never write with the purpose of adhering to a particular genre. The aggression, brutality and beauty of black metal most definitely form the foundations of our sound but I am also inspired by equally powerful music such as that of Swans, Björk and Arvo Pärt. My main issue with black metal is that bands often do not give their material room to breathe and as a result can become rather tedious and cluttered. Whilst drawing influence from many different styles, it is my aim that they will come together to form a coherent whole.

Björk? I can imagine some people having difficulties understanding how she can be an inspiration (although personally, I really appreciate her music as well). Could you explain how you incorporate those influences in your music?
Artists such as those three I mentioned, and a wealth of others, have an incredible ability to channel immense emotion through their music. The music I find most powerful is that which has the ability to make the listener feel what it is that the track is communicating, be it terror or melancholy. These individuals/acts are masters of their craft and are incredibly focused and honest in their execution. Rather than any sort of musically stylistic inspiration, these acts inspire us to try creating music that is executed with a greater purpose than to simply provide audio entertainment. The only consistency that I think engaging music requires is emotional, not stylistic."

Um pequeno off the record: diz que o trio irlandês vem ao nosso jardim em Novembro. Pessoalmente, considero imperdível. Aposto que deve ser um concerto intenso como poucos.

Uma relação curiosa

Recebi na mailing list do grande Le Monde Diplomatique um curioso teaser de um dos textos da edição deste mês, salvo o erro.

Ei-lo:
«Um jornalista de melena e impermeável de plástico aproxima‑se de Jimi Hendrix. «Sou do The New York Times», diz‑lhe ele. Hendrix sorri com ar cansado e responde‑lhe: «Prazer. Eu sou de Marte»1. O gracejo, à sua maneira, enuncia uma certa verdade. Durante os quinze anos das primeiras grandes expedições espaciais, o rock (e aparentados) sonhou com «contactos » e mergulhos inter‑siderais, vibrou por entre misticismo e galhofa, convulsionadas visões interiores e fantasias galácticas. Nada de muito surpreendente, visto se concentrar nisso a relação, dupla e dual, que os humanos das nossas regiões ocidentais têm geralmente com os mistérios dos céus. Mas o rock exagera.»

Onde é que o Rock exagera? Não ficaram tão curiosos quanto eu? Parece-me uma relação plausível, ainda que estabelecida de forma curiosa.

Tudo isto pela mesma razão: fez ontem 40 anos que a Apollo 11 aterrou na lua. Os senhores da Amplificasom já chutaram uma boa pergunta, também. Digamos que eu não resisti, principalmente depois de me ter cruzado com o e-mail de que falei em cima.

Com isto das políticas...

...repararam, ou não, que o tal partido sueco chamado Piratpartiet (em tuga, Partido Pirata) elegeu um deputado para o Parlamento Europeu.

Digamos que na prática é mais importante o acto em si do que as consequências reais. E embora o partido deva integrar um de dois grupos parlamentares (ADLE ou EFA) a sua influência não deverá ser mais do que residual - caso o Tratado de Lisboa seja aprovado serão dois deputados; o que afirmei manter-se-á válido, no entanto.

Mas a afirmação mais premente disto tudo é a de que os jovens começam a mudar a sociedade - neste caso específico, a cultura. Primeiramente na Suécia, país seminal neste tipo de situações, mas julgo que rapidamente se irá espalhar esta forma de ver a política: menos ideológica e mais pragmática (veja-se o caso do Partido Cannabis por la Legalización y la Normalización em Espanha).

Acaba por ser, no fundo, um marco com a sua importância na nossa geração.

Música Escrita #8

Xana in the House!!!!

Que é como quem diz "aqui ao pé de nós, pessoas." É verdade, não estou a gozar com a senhora que canta o Anzol. Ela saiu-se com uma bojarda na Vidas do Correio da Manhã (hey, anda cá por casa mas não sou eu que compro; no entanto, não resisto à magia do entulho e gosto de ler as crónicas na secção de cultura - escreve o Luxúria Canibal, a Xana e o jornalista José Manuel Simões, que me convenceu com boas e sucessivas coberturas a festivais), daquelas de trás da orelha. Ora leiam:

"A notícia de que a receita da indústria fonográfica caiu 66% só é uma má notícia para o Governo que assim vê também cair as receitas do IVA, e para uns tantos que sempre estiveram mais preocupados com 'negócio' e não tanto com música."

"quem beneficia com esta lei [que interdita o acesso à internet a quem descarregar "ficheiros ilegais" aprovada em França], os autores ou uma indústria gananciosa que durante décadas promoveu subprodutos culturais, censurou projectos ditos 'não comerciais', fez enriquecer pessoas que tanto podiam estar no 'negócio' da música como no negócio dos cimentos, foi cúmplice da morte da rádio?... Enfim, contribuiu com muitos pregos para o caixão onde se enterrou a dignidade de diferentes estéticas."

Bimbas! Toma lá disto (acho que a carapuça serve ao Tozé)!!! Isto tudo na sua crónica de opinião na revista acima referida. A desta semana fala dessa tal lei e tem o valoroso título de "Como acabar com a cultura?"

Música Escrita #7

Deixo-vos com uma porção da análise feita na Drowned In Sound ao novo álbum de Mastodon, Crack The Skye, e também o link para a sua totalidade. Tem piada e classe. Espero que gostem tanto quanto eu e o meu falido sentido de humor:

«If Mastodon weren’t so astoundingly accomplished on a technical level, as musicians who’ve entirely mastered their heavy metal art, then taking the Atlanta foursome seriously would be very difficult indeed.

Firstly, there’s the name. Apologies to dirty-kneed archaeologists out there, but essentially naming yourselves Fuck-Off Enormous Extinct Elephant doesn’t tick all that many boxes of cool. Black Sabbath it sure ain’t, and everybody knows that if you’re absolutely insistent on naming your band after an animal, make it some variety of tiger. Tigers are way cool, elephants significantly less so – one will eat a sticky bun from your hand, the other the bun and your hand.

Secondly, there are the lyrics. We’ve had a whole album based on Herman Melville’s most-famous tome, and now we’re subjected to wordplay straight from the World Of Warcraft screen: “The demon skin is covered in fine mist / Opened his hand in my hand / Holding my eyes to the future / Hovering above myself.” Some pimpled and bespectacled teenager who won’t get laid for another five years is having a wet dream to lyrics like these, right now. Yes, that is a shiver that just ran down your spine. Mine too.

Yet, we forgive Mastodon these should-be shortcomings, because when every last avenue of critical analysis is extinguished, and every potential failing assessed, the band Still Fucking Rocks – harder, better, and faster than any of their peers. Throughout Crack The Skye they repeatedly deliver the kind of dizzying riff-work that’s designed solely to frustrate the shit out of Guitar Hero worshippers by out-manoeuvring even the fanciest PlayStation fingerwork. Players of said six-string parts, Brent Hinds (who’s also an accomplished banjo player) and Bill Kelliher, build layers of amplification so very thick that listening to portions of this record is akin to being trapped in a tunnel beneath the sea with roaring behemoths at both exits – it’s intoxicating in its beastly beauty, but all the while you feel there’s no way out, that either the walls will crumble or you’ll head towards a to-the-death duel you can’t possibly win.»

Música Escrita #6

Há uns meses o Negrão falou dos Bad Plus, certo?

Eis o que a Alarm Magazine tem a dizer sobre eles e os seus míticos covers, num artigo intitulado The Top 10 Cover Songs by The Bad Plus:

"Hard-hitting jazz trio The Bad Plus knows how to pen pieces of proprietary gold. But its three members are also known for their genre-leaping renditions of rock songs, propelled by the chops of pianist Ethan Iverson, bassist Reid Anderson, and drummer David King. Here are the group’s ten best covers (in order of release).

1. Nirvana: “Smells Like Teen Spirit” (These Are the Vistas)

This cover of Nirvana’s massive hit features super-scaling runs and occasionally dissonant harmonies from Anderson in one of the final choruses. It ends brilliantly with the quick piano tinkling of Cobain’s famed bridge: “And I forget just what it takes, and yet I guess it makes me smile. I found it hard; it’s hard to find. Oh well, whatever…never mind.”

2. Aphex Twin: “Flim” (These Are the Vistas)

The original version of “Flim” caught some listeners off guard on the Come to Daddy EP, what with its pretty piano line that evoked thoughts of Willy Wonka’s “Pure Imagination.” This rendition brings Richard D. James’ IDM beats to life under the melodic synchronization of Iverson and Anderson.

3. Ornette Coleman: “Street Woman” (Give)

Coming as a rare occasion, The Bad Plus cover a fellow artist in its genre - and a revered one at that. Originally from Coleman’s 1971 album Science Fiction, “Street Woman” is bouncy, heavy, cheerful, and threatening - all while skillfully alternating rhythms.

4. Pixies: “Velouria” (Give)

If you’re not looking at the track listing to Give, you’ll have no idea that you’re hearing a Pixies song until near the two-minute mark. This version begins soft and somber, spreading out Charles Thompson’s melody over King’s distant jingling and tapping. After the early minutes of building, King breaks into a rock beat for some of Iverson’s mean improvisation.

5. Black Sabbath: “Iron Man” (Give)

After you hear The Bad Plus’ rendition of “Iron Man,” you won’t go back. Far heavier than the original, this version cracks into full gear when Iverson’s low notes thunder over his down-trickling scales, which come raining ominously from the intro. Iverson again grabs the attention over King’s heavy beats, layering together chordal harmonies of Tony Iommi’s famous progression. For the outro, the group employs a gentle quarter-time interpretation of the original’s awesome ending.

6. “(Theme From) Chariots of Fire” (Suspicious Activity?)

Anderson’s grooving bass line clashes nicely as Iverson brings in the song’s inspirational melody. A free-jazz breakdown follows before Iverson resumes the theme over wildness from the rhythm section.

7. Radiohead: “Karma Police” (Exit Music: Songs with Radio Heads)

Soft brush strokes from King lay a delicate setting for the trio’s homage to Radiohead. After some loose rhythms under the main melody, the song gets huge when the piano returns with Thom Yorke’s “for a minute there…I lost myself” vocal theme. Iverson also handles the original’s walking bass line while King plays freeform beats.

8. Rush: “Tom Sawyer” (Prog)

The poster child for radio-friendly prog rock, “Tom Sawyer” gets one of the most “authentic” replications from The Bad Plus. Iverson and Anderson trade off handling Geddy Lee’s vocals on their respective instruments, but they can’t hold out forever - like clockwork, the tune punches in an improvised break before resuming its course.

9. Burt Bacharach / Hal David: “This Guy’s in Love With You” (Prog)

Faith No More also presented a live cover of this chart-topping Herb Alpert song, and though this can’t quite compare to one with Mike Patton’s emotive vocals, it’s just as sensitive as both versions. Randomly, it closes with a quick reprise of the main rhythm from “Physical Cities,” an original Bad Plus tune that comes earlier on Prog.

10. Neil Young: “Heart of Gold”

Without a released recording of Neil Young’s classic hit, The Bad Plus saves “Heart of Gold” for concertgoers. It often begins with an abstract intro and ends with the three joining together for a harmonized a cappella chorus."

Música Escrita #5

Para os mais alarmistas: Editors conscientes


Há uns dias, andava eu no metro, deram-me uma revista dessas jovens e gratuita (novidade para mim, mas parece que já anda por aí há algum tempo), com um nome muito jovem do qual eu já não me recordo. Ao folhear o bicho reparei que havia lá um pequena entrevista dos Editors e, naturalmente, li-a. Dela tenho de salientar a última questão e a sua respectiva resposta - que servirá para descansar os mais cépticos (onde me incluo) sobre o que se tem dito em relação ao próximo álbum destes britânicos - a qual passo a transcrever na íntrega:

"O que podemos esperar nesse trabalho?
Tom Smith: Ainda é cedo para dizer. Temos dez temas ainda numa fase preliminar, gravei-os em casa com o meu piano; a guitarra acústica e o meu pequeno sintetizador, entreguei-os à banda. Vamos fazendo ensaios ao longo Verão. Tive várias ideias novas para lhes apresentar e estamos todos bastante entusiasmados, mas ainda é cedo para declarar seja o que for. Vamos ainda experimentar inserir mais sons electrónicos em algumas das músicas. Falámos dos Nine Inch Nails e de Depeche Mode, de como algumas das suas sonoridades criam uma sensação fria com os elementos electrónicos, mas não numa tendência dançante. Em algumas das músicas queremos criar um ambiente gélido e sombrio, mas mantendo-se puro e dinâmico. Seja como for, ainda é cedo, nós só terminaremos o próximo álbum em 2009 e ainda vamos pôr mãos à obra durante o próximo ano e criar novos temas, mas até agora está tudo bem encaminhado."

Acho que já há razões para não fazer grandes ondas em relação ao factor 'electrónico' do novo álbum...

Música Escrita #4

The Top 10 Parts of The Shape of Punk to Come

Para mim, esta é a maior obra do Hardcore (assinalo que não sou muito treinado neste mundo quanto isso, mas conheço a minha porção de coisas). Marco o género, foi um prazer destrutivo de procurar fazer algo do início - conseguiram. A Alarm Mag escolheu as dez melhores partes deste marco histórico e rasgo de genialidade dos suecos Refused; são dez escolhas decentes:

"Just prior to an acrimonious breakup, Swedish hardcore group Refused released its magnum opus, The Shape of Punk to Come: A Chimerical Bombination in 12 Bursts. It was as much an assault on capitalist philosophy as it was a striking stylistic evolution, and it did its best to advance hardcore in the way that its titular influence, Ornette Coleman’s The Shape of Jazz to Come, did with jazz.

Here are the album’s best moments, in (loose) chronological order"

Para complementar a boa leitura, aconselho vivamente a audição do álbum - algo que considero obrigatório.

Música Escrita #3

Brendan Canning, um novo clip e um álbum novo de Broken Social Scene no Horizonte

Deixo-vos uma entrevista, interessante mas nada de extravagante, da Pitchfork com Brendan Canning, dos canadianos Broken Social Scene (que, recordo, deram um concerto e peras em Paredes de Coura). Em jeito de 'spoiler' posso dizer-vos que fala do próximo clip, dos próximos tempos de concerto e da forma como se vêem os álbuns e o estúdio, arranhando a possibilidade de um novo registo dos BSS - mas sem outros novidades, além desta.


Pitchfork: Is it true that "Churches Under the Stairs" was written during a "Juan's Basement" shoot for Pitchfork.tv last fall?

Brendan Canning: That was definitely the first time that it was played. It's a bass line I had, and we were doing the Pitchfork thing, so yeah, that was essentially the first time I busted it out and Kevin [Drew] said, "Hey, here's a vocal idea I have," and as soon as we got off that tour, I was still working on my record.

Pitchfork: So the idea occurred to you at that shoot?

BC: You know what, I had the idea in a sound check. Then we were looking for a jam, [and I was] like, "Well here's something easy. Here's a bass line that everyone can understand quickly, and it's got a good hook." Yeah, that was the first time I busted it out.

Pitchfork: Did it come together pretty quickly after that?

BC: You know what, it didn't. It wasn't recorded with that same band lineup in the studio, just because I was trying to finish a record, trying to wrangle up Broken Social Scene. Like, [guitarist] Jimmy Shaw from Metric was in on that jam. You know, it wasn't even Justin [Peroff] playing the drums in the Pitchfork thing because he wasn't even there that day. It was actually our front-of-house sound engineer Marty Kinack. So he's in the video, even though he actually doesn't play on the recorded track.

Pitchfork: In the official video for the song, you mean, not the "Juan's Basement" video?

BC: Yeah, the video is me, Justin, Kevin, Sammy [Goldberg], and Marty.

Pitchfork: From the stills, the video looks like it's sort of a "dueling bands" thing?

BC: Yeah. Kevin's got one band on one side, and I've got the other band on one side. You know, the video is still getting flushed out. It was an idea that my friend Jamie Dagg had for the song, and he actually used the song in his short film [Sunday --Ed.] that just premiered at the Toronto Film Festival. It's about a guy who eventually self-combusts. He starts to realize slowly throughout the film, catching fire here and there.

Pitchfork: How did you and Kevin pick your bands for the "Churches Under the Stairs" video? Was it like kickball, with you each getting to pick one guy at a time?

BC: Ah, no. It's the same band on either side, just different outfits. But there were 90 people that came out for the video that day. George Vale directed it, my former roommate, who has worked on lots of videos under the Experimental Parachute Moment moniker. That's the video team.

But you know, it's kind of cool that the birthplace of the song definitely was "Juan's Basement". I had come back [home], and Kevin came up to the studio one night and was like, "Oh, this song." I just was like, "Well, fuck, let's just start recording it," and then I added some guitars on it and he showed up [and said], "Yeah, all right, I'll just lay down some vocals."

Pitchfork: Do you know what the lineup on the upcoming Broken Social Scene tour is going to be?

BC: As far as who is in the band? Yeah, it's Kevin, myself, Justin, Charles [Spearin], Andrew [Whiteman], Sam Goldberg, Leon Kingstone, and we got Liz Powell from Land of Talk because they're the support act on the tour, so she's kind of handling the female vox. She's great.

Pitchfork: When you guys play live, does it feel different to play the songs from your and Kevin's solo records, or do they feel like Broken Social Scene songs?

BC: No, they sound like-- they're not a huge departure from what the band sounds like, and we're not going out and playing 12 songs from my record. We're going out and playing five or six tunes from my record and a whole handful of tunes from Kevin's record and some old Broken Social Scene favorites. We're going to put together a different program than when we were touring this summer on the festival [circuit], different shows than we had all summer long.

Pitchfork: I'm not sure when it started, maybe between You Forgot It in People and the self-titled record, but people used to paint Broken Social Scene as this bunch of studio geeks and perfectionists who took a long time to release records. You guys have been more prolific recently, and it seems like that's because of these solo records, like everyone can say, "Hand this one off to Kevin. Hand this one off to Brendan."

BC: Yeah, I feel like we spent too much time in the studio, sort of tweaking.

Pitchfork: On the solo records?

BC: Yeah, and on records in general. We're all guilty of that.

Pitchfork: Still, it seems like it's been easier for you all to release records at a consistent clip. Handing over leader duties for one at a time seems to make it that way.

BC: I think it's just kind of necessary-- just to understand yourself a little bit more. Whether I'm learning about myself making my record or Kevin is [while] making his record, [it's about] finding out about your strengths and your weaknesses, being happy to collaborate with your bandmates again, and [being] thankful for them rather than resenting each other, which will ultimately lead to the demise of any band.

Pitchfork: Do you feel any more ownership over the songs on your record than you do on full group songs?

BC: It's different, because it's got my name featured prominently on the album [laughs]. Yeah. They're slightly more my creations or my directive than most of the times with Broken Social Scene records. I'm really happy the way the collaboration went down. It's all relatively personal music at the end of the day.

Pitchfork: What's next? Do you have anything else going on?

BC: Maybe another Broken Social Scene record.

Pitchfork: Any details you care to share about that?

BC: Not right now, no. If I had some, I would share them, but, like I said, we're just trying to put another show together for a fall tour.

Pitchfork: Are people going to hear the new songs on the tour?

BC: Yeah, I think we could at least throw in two or three. We have some songs that aren't recorded, and whether they make a record or not is anyone's guess. You never really know 'til you sit down, start writing, kind of figure out what shape and size the record is going to come in.

Pitchfork: Do you guys have definite plans to write? Do you write in collaboration?

BC: Sometimes, yeah.

Pitchfork: Have you made those plans?

BC: Tentatively. December, maybe? That being said, come December, we might all need a break. It hasn't been full-on this year, but we've been on the road since February. We've had time off here and there, but no long lengths of time away from each other. It's been pretty steady. But it's been a good year.

Pitchfork: Is there anything else you want to get off your chest that we didn't cover?

BC: [Laughs] No, no I think that I'm good. I just got off another video shoot for another song, so I'm a little tired.

Pitchfork: Which song is that?

BC: "Love Is New". That's the next one coming down the pipe...so everyone's sick of music videos. We just keep making them.

Pitchfork: Apparently not you!

BC: No, no! I'm having fun.


Assinalo só que o álbum deste senhor está muito BSS, ou seja, muito porreiro e curtido.

Música Escrita #2

John Lennon, The White Album and Me

«In 1969, 14-year-old Canuck Jerry Levitan (pictured left) trumped the world’s media by scooping an interview with John Lennon. 39 years on, it’s been turned into a brilliant animated short, and he remembers that day exclusively for MOJO4MUSIC…

I HAD BEEN A BEATLES fan since the age of nine and when the White Album came out in ‘68 it immediately became my favourite record – it still is to this day. There was just such a wealth of information, images and sound. It was a real treasure trove. In fact, I was obsessed with those songs. I listened to them incessantly. I didn’t have headphones, so I’d lie in bed with the stereo speakers pressed to my ears.

If I had to pick a favourite Beatle, it would have been John. As a 14-year old, I looked to him for leadership. He was outspoken and exuded confidence in the way he talked and in his ideas. You got the sense that he was the guy in charge. I remember writing a letter to him at Apple. I’d drawn a picture of Canada with an arrow pointing towards Toronto saying “I live here” adding something like “I’m your greatest fan, please come and visit Toronto!” Then one day I was listening to the local FM station and somebody called in to say they thought they’d seen John and Yoko at Toronto airport. That was all I needed to hear. I ran to my room and started calling all the hotels in the city. Most thought I was mad, but when I called the King Edward and asked “is John Lennon there?” they hung up. I knew he was there and quickly made a plan to go and find him. It was Sunday, May 25th 1969. John Lennon had come to my hometown. I had to do something.

The next day I woke up at 6am and tried to dress as I thought a news reporter might dress. I crept into my brother’s bedroom and stuffed his Super 8 camera into my bag. I’d managed to get a copy of John and Yoko’s Two Virgins album before the Mounties confiscated all the stock. I took the record with me in the hope of getting an autograph. Of course, I didn’t share my plans with anyone. I didn’t tell my friends, I didn’t tell my siblings and I certainly didn’t tell my school or my parents. I hit downtown Toronto at about 7am.

I got to the top level of the King Edward Hotel and started knocking on every door, waking up all the guests in the process. I must have covered three floors before I bumped into a cleaning lady with an Irish accent who asked me whether I was “looking for the Beatle”. She mentioned the number of a room on the floor below; “He’s in that one,” she whispered, “but don’t tell anyone I told you!” I went down the fire escape, turned the corner, looked down the corridor and saw Kyoko [Yoko’s daughter] lying on the floor in front of a door with a colouring book and crayons. I knew I’d found them. It was an electric feeling. My heart was beating fast. I remember gulping. This was it.

I hadn’t planned to do anything. I just had to see John. Talking to him never came into the equation. I stood in front of the door with my heart racing. A CBC cameraman and reporter suddenly appeared, knocked on the door and went in. After about 10 or 15 minutes I did the same. The door opened up and, in what must have been a very lame deep voice, I introduced myself as a Canadian newsman. I barged my way in, shuffling through the suite just staring at my shoes. Then I looked up and four feet from me sat John and Yoko. They were in the middle filming an interview. John saw me and laughed.

I took out my brother’s Super 8 camera, got the thing rolling and pointed it at John and Yoko who were still talking on the bed. When the CBS interview finished I took out my Two Virgins vinyl for him to sign. He was really surprised I had it. He wrote “To Jerry, love and peace, John Lennon” and Yoko signed her name. Derek Taylor [The Beatles’ Press Officer] then came in and informed everybody it was time to leave. So, the press left, John and Yoko disappeared, but I really took my time. Eventually I took the wrong turn out of the room and ended up in another part of the suite where John was trying to push a large tea chest onto the bed. “You wanna give me a hand with this?” he asked. I thought to myself, “You gotta do something”. So I asked him whether I could “come back later with a tape recorder and do an interview about peace”. He got so excited and said, “Great, yeah, Yoko! Derek! Great idea, let’s do an interview with him, talk about peace and he can take it to the kids!” I looked at Derek Taylor, who turned to me and said, “Why don’t you come back at 6pm?”

It was great. I was shown such respect. I arrived home, fell on my bed and crashed out utterly exhausted, waking up in a pool of sweat around 4pm with a feeling of abject horror - I didn’t have a tape recorder. I called up radio station CHUM and said I had an interview with John lined up for 6pm and I needed a recording device. They obviously didn’t believe me, but after speaking to Derek Taylor at the hotel, they all became my best friends. The radio producer said there’d be someone at the hotel bar at 5:30pm. I should meet him there. I got the bus back to the King Edward and it was pandemonium. Police, crazy people, protesters, hundreds of kids – everybody was trying to get a glimpse of John. I somehow got through the crowds and headed for the bar, where I met the guy from CHUM. We got to the correct floor and saw a row of reporters – mostly American press – sitting in single file against the wall of the corridor. As I turned the corner, one of the American reporters grabbed my arm and asked where I was going. I told him I had an interview at 6pm and he said, “Yeah, right, like the rest of us!” Then the door opened up – it was Derek Taylor. He asked, “Where’s the lad?” I raised my hand, and to the amazement of all those journalists, I walked in. Then it dawned on me – I hadn’t prepared a single question. John and Yoko appeared from around the corner. The mood was very tranquil. They both seemed very happy and at ease. I started telling them how I much I loved Two Virgins and he said, “Well we’ve just recorded another one called Life With the Lions. I have a copy here” Then Yoko offered me the record. At the end of the interview, you can hear John remind me not to forget the album.

He loved the fact that I wanted to talk about the White Album. I told him my theories about the songs and he just kept batting them back in a brotherly way saying, “No no, you know, there’s messages everywhere, but we’re just four guys. We wake up in the morning, have a cup of tea and a smoke – we’re just normal guys!” Throughout the interview he was constantly trying to take the shimmer off The Beatles, saying things like “I’m just writing about myself”. I mentioned how I was obsessed with Revolution 9 and how I thought I could hear him telling George to fuck off at the beginning and he said, “I may have told George to do whatever but I don’t remember saying it on the album!” There was a lot of talk in the press about The Beatles being on the verge of splitting up. He didn’t show any signs that a break-up was on the cards but I did get the sense that John And Yoko was a far more important entity than The Beatles.

It’s worth noting that I stopped the interview. I thought, “I can’t take any more of this man’s time. He’s an important guy!” So that’s why you hear the stumbling at the end of the tape. Derek Taylor then entered the room and told John that Mary Hopkin [Apple’s latest signing] had just arrived in town to play a show and she sends her love. John simply replied: “Send it back!”

He asked me if I wanted to go to the gig using his ticket. I said yes and he immediately called up Capitol Records and told them to give me the VIP treatment for the entire evening. John flashed a peace sign at me and closed the door. I left that room on cloud nine. Not only that, I left transformed forever. I knew it from the moment I lifted up my head and looked at the two of them on the couch. I knew it was a life-altering experience, I could feel it.

Over the years I’ve been approached by various people, all wanting to do something with the material. Up until recently I’ve never been happy with any of the approaches. I never wanted to do something cheesy or exploitive. It was always such a personal experience. So about thee years ago I thought I’d bring all this to an end. I’ll find some young Toronto artists and have them interpret my story in whichever way they see fit. I met Josh Raskin and he came up with the idea to do a five minute animated short. He introduced me to James Braithwaite, an illustrator who had a style very similar to John’s own drawings. It was a perfect fit.

I did see John again at the Rock‘N’Roll Revival Concert in Toronto in September ‘69. The guy at the record label made sure I got a seat in the front row and I got backstage where John held an impromptu press conference. He looked terrible – almost green. He looked up, whispered something to Yoko, caught my eye and waved. I couldn’t get to him after that. The last time I saw him was when he came to town to announce another concert for peace, which was later scrapped. But the memories I really cherish are all from the day of the interview.

He was part of everybody’s life, but I often felt I had the edge. I was shown such respect that day. He didn’t ask me who I was; he didn’t ask me any questions at all. I left that room and floated out of the hotel. In the rush to see him, I never questioned whether he was going to be cool or not. It never dawned on me that John Lennon would not be cool.»

Artigo retirado do site da revista Mojo intitulado "John Lennon, The White Album and Me".

Deixo-vos a curta-metragem em que este material inédito e conseguido de forma impressionante se transformou:

Ficam também com o site da curta, em caso de quererem mais informações.