David Byrne Presents: The Power of Song to Give Voice is Eternal

http://davidbyrne.com/radio/david-byrne-presents-the-power-of-song-to-give-voice-is-eternal

Com dedicatória

Virgin Prunes - Love Lasts Forever "We can run away..." I know all your secrets Please little girl I like the way you frightened, It makes me feel secure Your eyes say something special "We can run away" "We can run away" Pushed against the wall Never are we wrong You can hold my hand We can be strong A thousand ways to show I care I could give you anything I could give you everything I like the way you frightened "We can run away" "We can run away" Please close your eyes So you cannot see Go to sleep Dream of happy things... Blue sky above Hell waits below Angels dancing Angels falling Devil looks at me Spits into my eye Angels dead Angels dead Our love will last forever Our love will last forever Until the day it dies Until the day it dies Until the day it dies...

É sempre triste dedicar esta música a alguém.
'o nosso amor durará para sempre
até ao dia em que morra'

Mas neste caso, o amor nem se aplica:
como poderia eu gostar de uma little girl da qual só conheço o avatar?
Mas algo morreu e foi mais importante que o amor,
foi o carinho que lhe destinava, um carinho igual ao que dou a qualquer ser humano que me estime,
pelo menos, a qualquer ser humano que se coloque em igualdade comigo: nem acima nem abaixo.
Que essa pessoa fale agore pelas costas e me chame de lambão
e tente arregimentar sócios para a sua causa?
Podem até fundar uma liga de chá das cinco com acta e tudo,
é algo a que não darei muito mais atenção
mas assistirei no camarote e baterei palmas quando chegar o «emprego dos dias»
e deixar de haver dinheiro para o maço de tabaco e para o copo de vinho.
Pelo menos, diz ela que, quando esse dia chegar, deixará de tomar ansiolíticos e ficará saudável.
Faz-me lembrar uma pessoa que foi pedir ao psiquiatra um papel que dissesse que ela não era maluca, há poucos meses vi-a na consulta, continuava chorona, tinha chegado ao lumiar... o pior é depois.
Viva a saúde. Eu já tirei bilhete para a performance.

Não sei se foi Rousseau que o disse, mas escrevo na mesma:
«Não concordo com a tua opinião
mas não impedirei que a exprimas.
Reservo-me o direito de resposta.»

E depois há outro ditado, este mais próximo de raízes populares:
«Não deves bater em crianças, malucos, mulheres e pessoas velhinhas.»

São dois princípios ético-morais que tento seguir.
Nem sempre é fácil. O caminho é longo.

Ballerina

https://www.discogs.com/Carlos-Z%C3%ADngaro-Musiques-De-Sc%C3%A8ne/release/966008

Só um pedacinho

Eu gosto de brincar
mais vale rir que chorar, 

por isso aí vai uma paródia às amizades perdidas:

só um pedacinho...

Crazy

I remember when
I remember, I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that place
Even your emotions have an echo in so much space

And when you're out there, without care
Yeah I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much

Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Possibly

And now that you are having the time of your life
Well think twice
That's my only advice

Come on now, who do you
Who do you, who do you
Who do you think you are?
Ha ha ha, bless your soul
You really think you're in control?
Well

I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
Just like me

My heroes had the heart
To lose their lives out on a limb
And all I remember, is thinking
I wanna be like them
Mm hmm ever since I was little
Ever since I was little it looked like fun
And it's no coincidence I've come
And I can die when I'm done

Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe you're crazy
Maybe we're crazy
Probably ooh hmm

As interpretações dos ouvintes aqui dentro do link:
https://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858579738/

ZMB's music on bandcamp

https://zmb-mur.bandcamp.com/

Unity is not taught in school

Going back to these origins
The city is a natural scape
order in the details
Confusion uproar in the whole
In nature reality is selection
the tool of critical intervention
Fragmentation is the rule
Unity is not taught in school
You are an unnatural growth
On a funny sunny street
The city has forgotten you
It's symbols of the past
The meaning of its state
It's order of decay
Stand now in a column
And make the nature scene
Standing now in columns
making the nature scene
making the nature scene
waiting to make their pay
There is no resistance to
the signs along the way
standing all in columns
waiting to make their pay
making the nature scene
Waiting for the day
There is no resistance to
There is no resistance to
Salvation means to count on you
It just…

Wilhelm Reich alone

Transcript by Mikhail Bakhtunin: It is April 3rd, 1952, at Orgonon, Rangeley, Maine. I, Wilhelm Reich, am sitting alone in the large room in the lower house. All people are gone. In the morning and the whole day yesterday, a meeting took place of the members of the board of trustees of the foundation which carries my name. Everybody is gone now and I would like to add a few words to the recording we made yesterday and today of the disaster which struck Orgonon. There's nobody here to listen to what I am saying. The recording apparatus is the only witness. I hope that someone will at some time in the future listen to this recording with great respect, respect for the courage that was necessary to sustain the research work in orgone energy and life energy all through these years. I shall not go into the great strain, into the details, into the worries, the sleepless nights, the tears, the expenditures of money and effort, the patience which I had to have with all my workers and with all my students. I would like only to mention the fact that there is nobody around, there is not a single soul either here at Orgonon or down in New York who would fully and really from the bottom of his existence understand what I'm doing, and be with me in what I'm doing. They are all very good people. They are decent, honest hard working. I trust them. They are very good friends. All of them - or most of them. But, this does not alter the fact that they all, without any exception, are against, I say, are against what I am doing. Every single one of them spites me, interferes with my effort, crosses it out, blunts out, flattens out, this one thing or another thing, whatever it may be, to diminish my effort - no, to diminish the effects of my effort. To block out the sharpness and acuity of my thoughts. To reduce to rubble and nothing - or nothingness what I have elaborated and about now thirty - thirty three or thirty four years of systematic thinking and in about forty years of human suffering, since about 1912, or rather 1910 when my mother died. There is not a single soul around who would fully understand or would not say "no" to it all. This "no" is identical with: I don't want it, I don't like it, I loathe it, why is it here?, why does he have to exist?, why does he - why doesn't he sit down and take it easy?, why did he have to start this ORANUR (nuclear radiation) experiment which gives us so much trouble? They see only the trouble. They don't see or they don't want to realize what it means for medicine, biology and science in general, as well as philosophy, to have this ORANUR going. To them it is mostly a bother, an inducer of sickness, suffering and at times I have the distinct feeling that they believe or they do not quite dare to admit their own thoughts, that I may have gone hayward. This reaction of my closest friends and coworkers to the situation here is exactly the same that has harassed the human race for as much as we can say, 8.000 or 10.000 years, since patriarchy has ruled its destinies and since natural love was extinguished in the newborn infants. I shall not go into that. It is all written up in my publications. Whoever knows these publications also knows what that means. The discovery of the life energy would have been accomplished long ago, had this "I don't want it, I fear it, I loathe it, I'll kill it, I'll flatten it out, I won't let it exis- live, or exist". If that had not been in their structures, not in their desires, not in their positive conscious wishes. They're all descent and good people. No it is in the structure. It is somehow in their tissues, in their blood. They cannot tolerate anything that has to do with orgone energy, or life energy, or what they call God, or what is their deepest longing for love fulfillment. They cannot tolerate it and they fear it. They fear it by way of structure. Their tissues, their blood cannot stretch out, cannot take it, evades it - avoids it and loathes it. I do not say all this to depreciate their efforts, their honour, their loves, their lives. I say it because it is true, because it turns up in every single move, in every single word, in every single opinion, in every single paper, in every single thing they did to a- to whatever ever had to do with discovery - the discovery of genitality, life, love, such people as Laurence/Lawrence, or such philosophies as Giordano Bruno's or such great lives as Jesus Christ, ensoforth, ensoforth. It is a sad, lonely chapter of the human race. I don't feel that I am obligated to solve this riddle, to do anything about it. I happened to discover the life energy. I happened to induce the ORANUR experiment. I know what it means for the future development of medicine and biology, philosophy and natural science and in this awareness I am completely alone. There is no soul far and wide to talk to, to give one's feelings - to let one's feelings go freely, to speak like - as friends speak to each other. This is all.

Ela devolveu

https://www.discogs.com/N%C3%BAbia-Lafayette-Quem-Eu-Quero-N%C3%A3o-Me-Quer/release/6639010

Devolvi O cordão e a medalha de ouro E tudo que ele me presenteou Devolvi suas cartas amorosas E as juras mentirosas Com que ele me enganou Devolvi A aliança e também seu retrato Para não ver seu sorriso No silêncio Do meu quarto Nada quis guardar como lembrança Pra não aumentar meu padecer Devolvi tudo Só não pude devolver A saudade cruciante Que amargura meu viver

O diabo na mão

'

Pinto uma tela a pensar

                    na filósofa que conheci.

Entitulo: a beleza está a dormir para 

                        manter a tinta limpa.

De tão narcísico tinha antes dislexiado:

uma beldade está a pintar para

                        manter o sono limpo.

Escuto Zeca Afonso. Tenho o diabo na mão.

Vou cair das nuvens para ir ao futebol.

É verdade: não me apetece incorporar 

               a couve do quintal no quadro.

Saio para a galeria.

A inauguração correu ontem.

Leio os comentários no livrinho.

Gostaram do Old woman de 1998.

Coloco o preçário. 

Saio para beber um galão dragão.

Chego a casa. Spino Nirvana unplugged.

Fico a saber: os meus dois bosses 

                           também fumam ganza.

É tarde. Preciso de dormir.

Apetece-me escreve mas...

'estou tão bem debaixo dos lençóis.'

Apago a luz.

'

Claudio Mur 

em https://ate-ka-morte-nos-separe.blogspot.com/search?q=diabo+na+m%C3%A3o

Chamaram-me um dia Cigano e maltês Menino, não és boa rés Abri uma cova Na terra mais funda Fiz dela A minha sepultura Entrei numa gruta Matei um tritão Mas tive O diabo na mão Havia um comboio Já pronto a largar E vi O diabo a tentar Pedi-lhe um cruzado Fiquei logo ali Num leito De penas dormi Puseram-me a ferros Soltaram o cão Mas tive o diabo na mão Voltei da charola De cilha e arnês Amigo, vem cá Outra vez Subi uma escada Ganhei dinheirama Senhor D. Fulano Marquês Perdi na roleta Ganhei ao gamão Mas tive O diabo na mão Ao dar uma volta Caí no lancil E veio O diabo a ganir Nadavam piranhas Na lagoa escura Tamanhas Que nunca tal vi Limpei a viseira Peguei no arpão Mas tive O diabo na mão

I find her pretty

Don't come knocking 'round my door

I don't wanna see your face no more

Colored lights can hypnotize

Sparkle someone else's eyes

Woman

"Alright you three, come on out of there!

We know your names!

We've got you right here in our files!

We've got automatic weapons, the building is surrounded, you're gonna fall! You're gonna fall!

Just remember this:

No matter what happens, no man is an island!

Remember that, no man is an island!

Come on outta there!

Come on outta there, we know you've killed thousands!

Here's a thousand more!"

Don't come knocking 'round my door

I don't wanna see your face no more

I don't need your war machines

I don't need your war machines

I don't need your war machines

I don't need your war war war war

Woman, I said get away

American woman, listen what I say

American woman, American woman

American woman, American woman

American woman, American woman

American woman, American woman

American woman, American woman

American woman, American woman

American woman, American woman

American woman, American woman

American woman, American woman

American woman, American woman

Pyramid of skulls by Carlos Casas

https://www.discogs.com/Carlos-Casas-Pyramid-Of-Skulls/release/10387374

O segundo disco deste álbum é o que gosto mais.
^Tem voz e instrumentos de cordas
gravados numa região muçulmana (penso eu) da antiga URSS.

Também gosto dos visuais que fazem a promoção deste álbum,
especialmente o uso da imagem fantasmástica (ghosting) e outros filtros.
Os sons fazem sentido com as imagens. estas amplificam o significado do som.

Fico contente igualmente porque sinto alguma afinidade com este trabalho
tanto a nivel sonoro como visual.
gostaria de poder ver um vídeo completo.

Carlos Casas (Barcelona, 1974) is a Spanish director and visual artist.
http://www.carloscasas.net

Kulu Sé Mama

~

John Coltrane — tenor saxophone Pharoah Sanders — tenor saxophone, percussion McCoy Tyner — piano Jimmy Garrison — double bass Donald Rafael Garrett — bass clarinet, double bass, percussion Frank Butler —drums, vocals Elvin Jones — drums Juno Lewis — vocals, percussion, conch shell, hand drums Recorded on October 14, 1965.

Gnawa Gnawa!

http://moroccantapestash.blogspot.com/2011/08/paco-abderrahmane-monde-spirituelle.html

Maria Santa sendo adorada com glass harmonica

Thomas Bloch Sancta Maria (1998)* Fabrice Di Folco, male soprano, baritone and all voice parts Thomas Bloch, glass harmonica, keyboards

Sculpture: Pietro Canonica, Beatrice, 1910, Rome, Museo Pietro Canonica

*World premiere recording

Signal of a symptom

'where is the third mantra?'
ahahah!

Heavy mental

The drowning

Lydia: piano and guitar
Lucy: bass clarinet and guitar

NYC 1985

À esquerda do colibri

https://www.discogs.com/Jorge-Reyes-Antonio-Zepeda-A-La-Izquierda-Del-Colibrí/release/9718837

Dance sister dance