Well. Things. Other time I have a long post saved that can not finish. Basically because I wonder why so much effort. After I get over it, remember to be rock journalist worth today at least not hard or not hard get paid the same da, upload it and move on. After all is not important, only ghosts are those who do own torment.
But love is what I want to speak on this Saturday so moist and full where you look at the attacks of vanity and tenderness. Before going to dinner, I tell you something personal.
few months ago now, almost a year, I uploaded three songs to myspace Greyhounds. As always scary, but fear of someone who wants to be heard, contrary to popular belief, not the bad criticism. No. It is total ignorance. No matter that this fiber is playing, what matters is to play some. Everything else through the records, the experience, trials, perseverance, learning, live and time is fixed. Everything. The bands do not find their limit until it is raised. Until they do they can always go further. Neverending story.
Then ..... good a day by Bruno Battaglia I found Garcons. And first what is Garcons? After the crisis staff why naked all the time? And there's the fiber. I did not deal with Garcons side as I was and played the most lasting love, first comes denial, because we know they are not to modify, then avidly reading all Garcons. The photos, their personal blogs, their Flickrs and everything they produce. And the next step: talking. And there we are, 2.0 epistolary communication is endless. Or routines, as the best love.
Far from the details that are sensitive and therefore should not appear in public, a day and Alejandro just because of nothing I asked if he could send " More than you think " because I wanted to include it in a playlist personal, a gift for someone else. I think at that moment, in a strange way and by someone who does not know (personally it clear) that I realized that I do songs. Not for anything else, for that I make songs and interpret them for that. The day that I recorded in a small space that cover the son of a pop attempt foiled in the early 90's all I could think is "no longer do more songs like this because now everyone has the tools to locate anyone" . Maybe that's why this time is so hard to forget, the constant presence of a click away, the inexplicable "in a relationship with" facebook or more shy "Women and occupied" flickr they say, give him away, everything. Shot in the forehead for " say the distance is oblivion "....
But there is that song. Now on the playlist of someone who does not know but that another person other than the way I miss certain things, that in the distance are more loving, more tender, more real. Well there it is, doing what the song has to do: company.
few weeks ago Arturo said he was in love with this cover, thanks to Vineland gave me a "ok cool" and others prefer Sala Lugones more because as I told in an email "I met my girlfriend there." Today are those things that determine the radar of writing, that the number of bands heard or what to do. Is the air, more or less does not matter as long you can breathe and breathe more, which determines what songs. I do not remember who said it, but the heritage of the songs is in the air, the virtue of who writes this in trap, like alien species from an archaeological museum that no longer exists ....
Then love. Today I rise on a very wet and I find that a boy from Monterrey wants songs. That is a bit like saying I want me and therefore, by rhizome at all I loved, everything I love and no doubt all that I'm starting to love.
+
0 comments:
Post a Comment