ESAS CANCIONAZAS...

Estoy convencido que la música es algo que me permitirá ser siempre joven, y si existe una fórmula para la inmortalidad, tiene que llevar grandes dosis de música en su receta.

Escuchar a Frank Turner y a su banda The Sleeping Souls interpretando el tema Four Simple Words me provoca un bienestar increíble y consigue aquello que se propone: ¡hacerme bailar!.

Me encanta la música, la letra, la interpretación, el ambiente, la implicación del público...

​


Because we're all so very twenty first century,
You're probably listening to me on some kind of portable stereo
Maybe you're sitting on the back of the bus,
Or it's running up your sleeve, and you're across from your boss,
Or you're sitting in your bedroom on your own with the lights down low
I'd like to teach you four simple words, so that next time you come to a show,
You could sing those words back at me like they're the only ones that you know:

I want to dance, I want to dance
I want lust and love and a smattering of romance
But I'm no good at dancing, yet I have to do something
Tonight I'm going to play it straight, I'm going to take my chance, I want to dance

Hi ho hi ho hi ho, we're heading out to the punk rock show
Colleagues and friends condescend with a smile,
But this is my culture man, this is my home
The dark huddled masses gather at the gate,
Yeah, the doors are at 7, and the show starts at 8
A few precious hours in a space of our own,
And when the band comes on, the only thing I really know:

I want to dance, I want to dance
I want lust and love and a smattering of romance
But I'm no good at dancing, and yet I have to do something
Tonight I'm going to play it straight, I'm going to take my chance, I want to dance

Yeah is anybody else sick of the music
That's churned out by lacklustre scenesters from Shoreditch?
Yeah it's all sex drugs and sins, like they're extras from Skins,
But it's OK because they don't really mean it
I want bands who had to work for their keep,
Drove a thousand miles and played a show on no sleep,
Sleeping on the floor in a stranger's place,
Hungry just to do it all again the next day

I want to dance, I want to dance
I want lust and love and a smattering of romance
But I'm no good at dancing, and yet I have to do something
Tonight I'm going to play it straight, I'm going to take my chance, I want to dance

So put your hands on your hips, bring your knees in tight
Yeah we do this shit together man, no fists, no fights
We're not trying to shape the world so people think like us,
We just want our own space to dance, no favors no fuss
On blood sweat and vinyl we have a built ourselves a house,
So if the roof is on fire then we're going to put it out
Forget about the bitching and remember that you're blessed,
Punk is for the kids who never fit in with the rest, alright
Somebody told me that music with guitars
Was going out of fashion, and I had to laugh
This shit wasn't fashionable when I fell in love,
If the hipsters move on why should I give a fuck?

I want to dance, I want to dance,
I want me some lust and love and a smattering of that old time romance
But I'm no good at dancing, yet I have to do something
Tonight I'm going to play it straight, I'm going to take my chance
Yeah, I want to dance, I want to dance
I want me and you both to join hands down at the front
So the next time I see you, remember these words so
We'll sing like the barricades are down, and we'll dance like no one's around,
Singing four simple words​
 
Última edición:


A un artista genial lo reconozco cuando lo veo hacer algo que hasta en la imaginación me cuesta emular: Zidane controlando el balón, un monólogo de Hugo Weaving como el agente Smith, o a George Michael en esta obra maestra de One More Try (1988).
 


Maid of Orleans (The Waltz Joan of Arc, 1982)

¡Qué obra de arte! Esa mujer es símbolo nacional por orden de Napoléon Bonaparte.
 
La reciente (y calentita) discusión en el hilo de la energía nuclear (subforo de ciencia) me ha hecho desempolvar el Handle with Care de Nuclear Assault.

¡Qué buenos eran los abraza árboles estos!

 
Llevo un tiempo dándole al MAME, y la verdad es que jugando al Out Run he quedado fascinado con el tema más conocido, el mítico Passing Breeze. Buscando por ahí, he encontrado una versión muy buena de la propia banda de Sega, los SST:



La verdad es que es un tema excepcional, de esos que te transportan al sueño ochentero de ir en un deportivo descapotable en verano con la chavala, yendo a toda mecha junto a la playa mientras atardece al estilo de una peli de Tony Scott :amor.

Un saludete.
 
Acabo de echarle un vistazo (en el subforo de política) a los polémicos tuits de Ana Morgade sobre el aborto... así que se la dedico (y le recomiendo el visionado del documental homónimo del 84).



Nightmare, the persecution
A child's dream of death.
Torment, ill forgotten
A soul that will never rest.

Guidance, it means nothing
In a world of brutal time.
Electric, circus, wild
Deep in the infants mind.

Silent Scream.
Bury the unwanted child.
Beaten and torn.
Sacrifice the unborn.

Shattered, another child
Bearer of no name.
Restrained, insane games
Suffer the children condemned.

Scattered, remnants of life,
Murder a time to die.
Pain, sufferage toyed,
Life's little fragments destroyed.

Silent Scream
Crucify the bastard son.
Beaten and torn
Sanctify lives of scorn.

Life preordained
Humanity maintained.
Extraction termination
Pain's agonizing stain.

Embryonic death,
Embedded in your brain.
Suffocation, strangulation,
Death is fucking you insane.

Nightmare, the persecution
A child's dream of death.
Torment, ill forgotten
A soul that will never rest.

Innocence withdrawn in fear.
Fires burning can you hear
Cries....... in the night.
 
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