Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

Jul 30, 2010

Do You Remember?


Can't possibly tell you, explain to you how much this song means in my life. It is remembrace, not only as it is from one of my coolest, trademark times, because the lyrics are not your typical sugar-coated all-lovey-dovey "love is forever" kind, but they carry despair, hurt, break.

Slow cadence, a touch of upbeat to feed the anger underneath the melancholy of hurt. I cling to it as I clung back then, when the Internet was hardly rearing its head from the dark depths of the tube screens. A place to touch down in long nights that started at 11 pm in short wool lolita dresses, thick shoes and black make up, blue lips and rubber silver tees. Hair dyed raven black, a diet of coke and a small bread bun per day. A life around Friday nights at the disco, plunged in a world of mystic figures, lazer green light tunnels that enticed death and afterlife while in here, captured in a solitary cell of music around hundreds of bodies abandoned in the throws of electronic music. Bum-bum-bum.

This was a place of touchdown. A place of chill. A place of meditation.

The arm of someone around your waist, the lips of a shy someone else on your neck. Words in different languages - Polish, Russian, Arabic, English - whispering timid, hushed "I love you"-s. Courage and boldness breath in from the vanilla scented air. Smiles and kisses that taste just the same. A secluded place of confidence where friendship translates every move you make into a pledge of something deep, something unique, something never seen. It's friendship far beyond friendship, sealed by lips in a deep kiss. A place where there's no jealousy, where there's understanding. Long nights of talks with a shared can of beer.

Down from the heights of Madonna's Secret and Bedtime Stories, from Björk's Army and Post, Scatman Joe's Scatman World, Red Nexx' Cotton Eyed Joe. The world spins and we spin with it. Dormant during the week, secretly alive at night in a study room or whispering bunked up in bed.

It is a world that won't come back, yet won't leave us either.

Jul 27, 2010

Jon Bon Jovi

Jon Bon Jovi will be touring here in Costa Rica on September 26th, and guess who is going? Yep, me, myself and I! Oh dear heavens! Jon Bon Jovi! :-) I knew first of his concert from my friend Alix, and then was when I decided that I'm not letting this one out, I am going with her, and so I will! Hope the ticket won't be insanely expensive, and thanks Hyne it will be on the weekend, so I won't have to rush to make the line... though going back to the office after a concert... that will be something I'm not sure I want to witness. Still... Oh dear Patrick, Jon Bon Jovi!!!

Jun 17, 2010

The Day of the Moving

Yep, we are moving. Moving to the dreaded Telecommunications Tower, affectionately called by our several Unions as "The Babel Tower". Nope, no Brad Pitt... actually the only pits there are the stairwell pits. Yep, pits. The orders and directions of the moving keep steadily changing, as the Director's Assistant keeps changing our cubicles almost on whim (I have been assigned to six different cubicles in less than 24 hours). We were also ordered to go to the new buidling and stay dare and do nothing until the end of the day. Our boss, Chuck bless his soul, told us to ignore that order and leave home at noon, so we do something productive... somewhere. I totally love my boss. Really, I do. I mean, I have the coolest, most awesome boss of the entire company. He is the Flying Cookie. :-) If you have ever doubted that I am BLESSED and that, yeah, God personally takes care of me and loves me like crazy, think again in the light of these proves. :-)

So, back to the moving, we were all alotted two boxes to pack up our junk. Naturally I needed more. How many more? I needed five boxes. Where will I pack all that? Fret it not, I am one of those few people in the planet that seem to be able to break physical laws and put two bodies in the same space at the same time.... or something like that. Yeah, not when packing, but I have "The Gift". So yesterday I boxed the whole office, and Today just picked up the remaining files and posters from the wall. I had to pack the phone, which explains why am I unreachable. Thanks Chuck I have a laptop to work with, or right now I would be running in circles singing Credence Clearwater Revival's Cotton Fields song. Two days in a row so far and I keep singing it.


Don't you like it? I love it.

Since I'm downgrading from an office to a cubicle (again) gara think of a way to decorate, new posters to get and paste up, since my posters are too big. An idea that came to me was to custom make them, only I'm not sure what I'm planning would be "acceptable". I mean, how would you take a poster in a cubicle that says:




See what I mean? Which would you pick? (I'm sure no one would pick the Salomon Seal, also known  as the Devil's Trap.)

Dec 8, 2009

Anneke Van Giersbergen

Today, minutes before the end of my woking day, when I stayed listening to Within Temptation and there, a song I have heard before like a thousand time got to me.



Do you know the feeling? That feeling of sudden Revelation, when something you've seen and you've enjoyed a thousand times before sounds new, unique, powerful and never heard before. It was this song, at the verge of 4:30, pouring as loud as the HP Pavilion I've at the office allowed it, directly into my ears, and I was transfixed, drunk with the sound, wrapped up in the heights of extasis listening with the agony of someone who has found Nirvana and doesn't wish to let it go in 5 minutes.

I searched the voice to find the Siren. Her name is Anneke Van Giersbergen and I've been mesmerized. I totally love her. She's my new favorite Tune.

Oct 26, 2009

What Ever Happened toTiziano Ferro?

Fame is indeed a fickle thing. Chasing it is as insane as running purposefully towards unhappiness. Many sacrifice themselves for this kind of dream only to either get worn off by the constant running, never reaching peace, never really sure about having achieved their goal, or simply fall and get stamped over, burried under mockery and indifference.

Yesterday I was remembering one of these flickering stars, a lovely Italian singer known to the world as Tiziano Ferro. Sang song both in Spanish and Italian, maybe even in English, and was regarded for a speck por a moment, as the next Eros Ramazzotti. Then, one day he went missing, wiped off the face of the Universe as if he had never existed in the first place. The radio stations stopped broadcasting his songs, MTV stopped showing his vids and the magazines stopped printing his pictures on glossy paper. For someone who simply enjoyed his music, the sudden disappearance of the performer of songs such as "Perdono", "Non me lo so spiegare", "Sere nere" and "Rosso Relativo" was a mystery. The question hung in the air like the title of a horror movie from the black and white days. "What Ever Happened to Tiziano Ferro?" The answer to this is far more bizarre than a movie by Robert Aldrich.

Stupid or not, Mr. Ferro was victim of his own fans, and fell under to thinking he had the right to an opinion and that he could voice it. It is said that once, in Italy, he commited the fatal mistake of saying that Mexican women are ugly. I've never been to Mexico, but from everyone who has been there I've heard one thing: beautiful cities, HIDEOUS women. It's like the ugliest women in the world are born there. And the thing is that it seems Mexican women don't look exactly like their telenovela counterparts, but they are just as vain, and so this mob of ugly women drawned him, pulled him down and stamped him into the mud.

From the point of view of an average person, this sounds ridiculous. So what if he thinks that Mexican women are ugly? He's job is to sing, not to ooze praises to women around the world. But truth is that the "right to an opinion" is exclusive of the mob. Regular people can have an opinion, celebrities have the opinion the people wants them to have. Looking at this I wonder why is there people still trying to be famous? Or is it that they already have no opinion, so they don't mind others telling them what should they think?

On the other hand, there's more sorrow in this incident that simply the denying of a human being to his opinion. There's the impact on women about one men thinking that they are ugly. First of all, why is it so important what one guy thinks? And if it weren't just one guy, but many, many guys, then what? A woman won't be prettier or uglier simply because others believe her one way or the other. Ugly, pretty, these are things that matter only when you think them about yourself. If you think you are pretty, then you are, and if you think you are ugly, then you are ugly. But no.

In pretty much every society the one worth women have are "beauty". Women dress up "to kill" and are expected to walk around looking beautiful and desirable. They must buy creams and make up and designer clothes and in exchange they expect to be called beautiful, because if they are not, then they are flawed. Naturally, many women, when called "normal" or "ugly" rant againt the "offender" instead of either give it a rat's ass, or doing something about it. But then again, with beauty feed you? Will beauty dress you? Will beauty educate you? Will beauty make you a house? And even if it does, what will happen when beauty wilts away? And this is the same question, the same topic I have been writing about for quite some time now.

LADIES: BEAUTY IS IRRELEVANT IF YOU ARE NOT A PERSON FIRST!

Be... something. Have a personality. Have dreams, goals, temper, strenght... Measure yourselves by who you are, what you are capable of, through your virtues and flaws, through the things that make you who you are, and that stay, that remain with you, not flimsy things like beauty or youth. Of course, such a philosophy could throw down a multi-million industry that builds upon the low self-esteem of billions of women, killing them into extreme thinness, making feel unworthy those whose size is healthy, and not a tenth of it, making them believe that there's no happiness without a Louis Vuiton bag, or a Manolo Blahnik pair of shoes.

Truth is that there's more to life than fashion and beauty, and this comes from a Swatch and Benetton fan, so I guess I do have a say in this. However I know, simply know that these words won't make a dent on those who live deep inside the belly of this evil. How could they, after all these people has invested in this mistaken believe? After years of devoting to beauty, years of making a self image based on shallow values, how could they turn back? When years weight on their shoulders, years that might be many or just a few, but none of them dedicated to what really matters? It must be beyond painful.

So, back to our Italian singer, could this be the root of his crime? Shedding up light on the fact that they were all failing at the one goal they have set out for themselves? Where have we gotten to with this twisted perception of ourselves and others, specially when we won't stop a second to think when it comes to sacrifice someone for the sake of these "ideals"?

Jun 26, 2008

« Touch »


When your heart dictates the moment
And the room feels like you own it

And all you see is for the asking
But just one look is all you're after
It opens a whole new world

It's not what you're saying
But it's everything you do

It drives me crazy

And it's all because of you


Slide over here
Skin against skin

Melt into me

Forget where you begin yeah

Cause everyone needs a touch
Everyone needs a touch

You're like a desert
I'm like rain

I poor down you soak me in


It's amazing

It's just like a new horizon
Somehow you make me
Feel just like I'm flying


Slide over here
Skin against skin

Melt into me

Forget where you begin yeah

Cause everyone needs a touch

Cause everyone needs a touch


No matter who you are or where you're from
Somewhere down the road gonna nee someone yeah

Cause everyone needs a touch

Everyone needs a touch


Wearing nothing but the summer breeze

Baby doing what comes naturally

Doing what comes naturally


Slide over here

Skin against skin

Melt into me

Forget where you begin yeah

Cause everyone needs a touch

Everyone needs a touch

Tarkan's