Una nova recomanació del poeta Josep Gerona. La rebo com qui reb una postal, no calen gaires explicacions: l'amic, en algun moment, ha pensat a compartir amb tu un punt lúcid, una revelació, una la bellesa que enlluerna.
Senyor, el temps ha arribat. Enorme fou l’estiu. Projecta la teva ombra en els rellotges de sol i deixa córrer els vents per les planures.
Als últims fruits ordena de ser plens; dos dies més de sud dóna’ls encara, constreny-los a perfer-se i que penetri en el vi fort la suprema dolçor.
Qui ara no té casa, ja no la bastirà. Qui ara es troba sol, ho estarà molt de temps, vetllarà, llegirà, escriurà llargues cartes i per les avingudes vagarà inquiet d’aquí d’allà, mentre les fulles giravolten.
Well I woke up this morning with the cold water, with the cold water, with the cold water. Woke up this morning with the cold water, with the cold water, with the cold water.
Police at the station And they don't look friendly, well they don't look friendly, they don't look friendly. Police at the station And they don't look friendly, they don't look friendly well, they don't.
Blind or crippled, sharp or dull, I'm reading the Bible by a 40 watt bulb. What price freedom, dirt is my rug, Well I sleep like a baby with the snakes and the bugs.
Well the stores are open but I ain't got no money, I ain't got no money. Stores are open but I ain't got no money, ain't got no money, well I ain't.
Found an old dog and he seems to like me, seems to like me, well he seems to like me. Found an old dog and he seems to like me, seems to like me, well he seems.
Seen them fellows with the card board signs scrapin up a little $ to buy a bottle of wine.
Pregnant women and the Vietnam vets I say beggin on the freeway bout as hard as it gets
Well I slept in the graveyard, it was cool and still Cool and still, i t was cool and still Slept in the graveyard It was cool and still, cool and still and it was cool.
Slept all night in the Cedar grove I was born to ramble born to rove
Some men are searchin for the Holy Grail But there ain't nothin sweeter than ridin the rails.
I LOOK 47 but I'm 24, well they shooed me away from here the time before turned there their backs and they locked their doors.
I'm watching T.V. in The window of a furniture store.
Well I woke up this morning with the cold water ...
L'any 93 Counting Crows sonava als meus auriculars i al cassette del cotxe. La banda sonora que envoltava al nano desconcertat que jo era aleshores, tot i estrenar professió, tot i que m’endinsava en el futur, el meu futur, amb l’arrogància que atorga el no saber.
Tot això ve a tomb perquè acabo de recordar com m’agradava aquesta cançó: “Round Here”, del seu disc “August and everything after”. Un disc ple d’evocacions, que no puc escoltar sense estremir-me una i altra vegada. Quina capacitat d’adherir-se als moments té la música...
YouTube no permet la inserció del vídeo, però us deixo l’enllaç AQUÍ. I també us deixo la lletra. Quin inici: "Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white".
ROUND HERE
Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white And in between the moon and you the angels get a better view Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right I walk in the air between the rain through myself and back again Where? I don’t know Maria says she is dying through the door I hear her crying Why? I don’t know
Round here we always stand up straight Round here something radiates
Maria came from Nashville with a suitcase in her hand She said shed like to meet a boy who looks like Elvis She walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land Just like she is walking on a wire in the circus She parks her car outside of my house Takes her clothes off Says she is close to understanding Jesus She knows she is more than just a little misunderstood She has trouble acting normal when she is nervous
Round here were carving out our names Round here we all look the same Round here we talk just like lions But we sacrifice like lambs Round here she is slipping through my hands
Sleeping children better run like the wind Out of the lightning dream Mamas little baby better get herself in Out of the lightning
She says its only in my head She says shhh I know its only in my head But the girl on car in the parking lot says man you should try to take a shot Cant you see my walls are crumbling? Then she looks up at the building and says she is thinking of jumping She says she is tired of life she must be tired of something
Round here she is always on my mind Round here hey man got lots of time Round here were never sent to bed early And nobody makes us wait Round here we stay up very, very, very, very late I cant see nothing, nothing round here Catch me if I’m falling.
Counting Crows, August and everything after. Geffen 1993
L’any 96, mentre l’A. acabava el seu “exili” va arribar “Recovering the Satellites” però aquell va ser una mica menys el nostre disc, oi A.?
Us deixo amb una cançoneta prou bonica “A long december”. El vídeo oficial és AQUEST (tampoc no és permesa la inserció), us deixo amb una versió en directe:
Només consignar l'encertadíssim artícle de Muñoz Molina al Babelia d’aquesta setmana (enllaç, fent clik aquí), sobre la República de Weimar. Efímera, fascinant i terrorífica, República de Weimar.
No hi trobaràs res del Berlín novelesc de la república de Weimar al Berlín d’avui. Recordo haver fet ben bé el ruc preguntant-li al conserge de l’hotel com arribar al "barri antic". Ignorava l’abast de la destrucció que la segona guerra mundial va suposar a les ciutats centreeuropees. Amb el candor propi del turista imaginava que arreu les ciutats, com les d’aquí, havien de tenir un "barri antic".
Jo pensava visitar l'Alexanderplatz... hi ho vaig fer... aleshores era una esplanada enorme a on els soldats soviètics hi feien desfilades.
