ADRIANA

2007-08-31T11:12:00.000Z

2007-03-04T23:12:00.000Z

Nessa Rua

2007-01-20T10:19:00.000Z

Deus ex Machina

2007-01-20T10:17:00.000Z

Jasper Morello - Trailer

The Mysterious Geographic Explorations of Jasper Morello
Anthony Lucas

2006-09-05T22:49:00.000Z

Plim

2006-08-23T02:02:00.000Z

2006-08-08T22:43:00.000Z

2005-11-14T02:40:00.000Z

AS CANCOES VAO VOLTAR EM BREVE

Imagem:La Musique des Puces, Robert Doisneau,1944

2005-11-03T10:25:00.000Z

THE CUCKOO BIRD
Tradicional inglesa e americana
Cantada por Doc e Merle Watson

Embora esta cancao seja originalmente inglesa foi levada para os Estados Unidos ha mais de duzentos anos. The Cuckoo Bird e uma das cancoes da banda sonora do filme Cold Mountain, baseado no belissimo livro de Charles Frazier, e por causa disso nunca consigo deixar de a associar a Guerra Civil Americana.

Doc Watson

2005-11-02T09:33:00.000Z

TAKE ME OUT
Franz Ferdinand

AO TRABALHO!
AO TRABALHO!
AO TRABALHO!
AO TRABALHO!
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AO TRABALHO!
(o fim de semana prolongado acabou...)

2005-11-01T10:10:00.000Z

IN PARADISUM (No Paraiso)
Gabriel Faure
Cantado pelo VU-Kamerkoor Amsterdam

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal

Love leaves a memory no one can steal

Inscricao que pode ser lida num tumulo em Dublin

2005-10-31T20:44:00.000Z

ULALUME
Poema de Edgar Allen Poe
Dito por Jeff Buckley

THE SKIES they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crispèd and sere,
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year;
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir:
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through an alley Titanic
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul—
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
These were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriac rivers that roll,
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek
In the ultimate climes of the pole,
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
In the realms of the boreal pole.

Our talk had been serious and sober,
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere,
Our memories were treacherous and sere,
For we knew not the month was October,
And we marked not the night of the year,
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!)
We noted not the dim lake of Auber
(Though once we had journeyed down here),
Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

And now, as the night was senescent
And star-dials pointed to morn,
As the star-dials hinted of morn,
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn,
Astarte's bediamonded crescent
Distinct with its duplicate horn.

And I said—"She is warmer than Dian:
She rolls through an ether of sighs,
She revels in a region of sighs:
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
And has come past the stars of the Lion
To point us the path to the skies,
To the Lethean peace of the skies:
Come up, in despite of the Lion,
To shine on us with her bright eyes:
Come up through the lair of the Lion,
With love in her luminous eyes."

But Psyche, uplifting her finger,
Said—"Sadly this star I mistrust,
Her pallor I strangely mistrust:
Oh, hasten!—oh, let us not linger!
Oh, fly!—let us fly! for we must."
In terror she spoke, letting sink her
Wings until they trailed in the dust,
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dust,
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied—"This is nothing but dreaming:
Let us on by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its sibyllic splendor is beaming
With hope and in beauty to-night:
See, it flickers up the sky through the night!
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,
And be sure it will lead us aright:
We safely may trust to a gleaming
That cannot but guide us aright,
Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom,
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista,
But were stopped by the door of a tomb,
By the door of a legended tomb;
And I said—"What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?"
She replied—"Ulalume—Ulalume—
'T is the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crispèd and sere,
As the leaves that were withering and sere,
And I cried—"It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed—I journeyed down here,
That I brought a dread burden down here:
On this night of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber,
This misty mid region of Weir:
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Said we then — the two, then — "Ah, can it
Have been that the woodlandish ghouls —
The pitiful, the merciful ghouls —
To bar up our way and to ban it
From the secret that lies in these wolds —
From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds —
Had drawn up the spectre of a planet
From the limbo of lunary souls —
This sinfully scintillant planet
From the Hell of the planetary souls

2005-10-28T23:55:00.000Z

UNMADE BED
Sonic Youth

Look who's come back home again
Loser looking for his lucky break
This time he says he just needs a friend
Ain't on the run he ain't on the take

Can you unlock this door babe
Will you just undo the chain
Will you take yr time before you
Mix up love, his love and pain

Loneliness lays down his head
Wants to get you high, better take it now
A man like that's like an unmade bed
Stained eyes searching for another way out

Does it matter if you even want this
Maybe you just don't care
All I know it takes just one kiss, babe
For you - he's never there

Hey I know it's kinda hard
And maybe this time it will never end
Hit-and-run lover back in yr heart
Answered prayers you should never have sent

Cuz now that yr in his arms babe
You know yr just in his way
Suckered by his fatal charm, oh girl
It's time... we get away

Sonic Youth

2005-10-27T19:01:00.000Z

LUME LUME
Maria Tanase

"Talvez entao me farte do mundo
Quando pregarem os pregos no meu caixao
Mundo,querido mundo
Quando me deitarem na minha campa
E eu ja nao estiver na Terra
Mundo, querido mundo
.

O mundo e assim, tudo passa
Porque o mundo e assim , tudo passa
Um nasce e outro morre
Mundo, querido mundo
O que nasceu vai sofrer
O que morreu, apodrecer
Mundo, querido Mundo"

Maria Tanase

2005-10-26T21:20:00.000Z

GOT MY MOJO WORKING
Etta James

So what is a mojo? It is, in short, the staple amulet of African-American hoodoo practice, a flannel bag containing one or more magical items. The word is thought by some to be a corruption of the English word "magic" but it more likely is related to the West African word "mojuba," meaning a prayer of praise and homage. It is a "prayer in a bag" -- a spell you can carry.
Alternaive American names for the mojo bag include hand, mojo hand, conjure hand, lucky hand, conjure bag, trick bag, root bag, toby, jomo, and gris-gris bag. In the Memphis region, a special kind of mojo, worn only by women, is called a nation sack. A mojo used for divination, somehwat like a pendulum, is called a Jack, Jack bag, or Jack ball.
The word "hand" in this context means a combination of ingredients. The term may derive from the use of finger and hand bones of the dead in mojo bags made for various purposes, from the use of a rare orchid root called Lucky Hand root as an ingredient in mojo bags for gamblers, or by an analogy between the mixed ingredients in the bag and the several cards that make up a "hand" in card games.
Although most "Southern Style" conjure bags are made of red flannel, some root doctors favour the colour-symbolism employed in hoodoo style candle-burning magic and thus use green flannel for a money mojo, white flannel for a baby-blessing mojo, red flannel for a love mojo, pale blue flannel for a peaceful home mojo, and so forth. Leather bags are also seen, but far less frequently than flannel; they are associated with West Indian obeah, another form of folk magic closely related to African-American hoodoo.
Mojos made for an individual are usually carried on the person, always out of sight. They are very rarely worn on a string around the neck, fairly commonly pinned inside a woman's brassiere, and much more commonly pinned to the clothes below the waist or caried in a pants pocket. Those who make conjure bags to carry as love spells sometimes specify that the mojo be worn next to the skin. Mojos intended to purify or protect a location are generally placed near the door, hidden in such a way that they cannot be seen by strangers.

Fonte: Hoodoo in Theory and in Practice,Catherine Yronwode

Etta James

2005-10-25T23:01:00.000Z

RETINTIN
Eduardo Arolas

"-Estas muito bonita! Fazes-me lembrar um tango de Arola que eu ouvia no cabare Parda Flora,em Buenos Aires.
-Talvez houvesse por la alguem parecido comigo?
-Nao. E precisamente por nao te pareceres com ninguem que gostaria de te encontrar sempre...em toda a parte..."
.
Hugo Pratt, A Balada do Mar Salgado

Todo Tango

2005-10-24T11:49:00.000Z

AQUELE ABRACO
Gilberto Gil

Interpretado pelo Grupo Sambando

fotografia cedida pela Papalagui, a quem dou Aquele Abraco

Depois de ter sabido a historia deste samba, fico sempre muito comovida quando o ouco.
Gilberto Gil escreveu o Aquele Abraco quando saiu da prisao, a primeira parte da letra e simplesmente a descricao emocionada do seu regresso a casa:

O Rio de Janeiro continua lindo
O Rio de Janeiro continua sendo
O Rio de Janeiro, fevereiro e março

Alô, alô, Realengo - aquele abraço!
Alô, torcida do Flamengo - aquele abraço!

Chacrinha continua balançando a pança
E buzinando a moça e comandando a massa
E continua dando as ordens no terreiro

Alô, alô, seu Chacrinha - velho guerreiro
Alô, alô, Terezinha, Rio de Janeiro
Alô, alô, seu Chacrinha - velho palhaço
Alô, alô, Terezinha - aquele abraço!

Alô, moça da favela - aquele abraço!
Todo mundo da Portela - aquele abraço!
Todo mês de fevereiro - aquele passo!
Alô, Banda de Ipanema - aquele abraço!

No entanto, pouco tempo depois Gil partia para o exilio em Inglaterra e os ultimos versos sao uma despedida, uma despedida de alguem que nao sabe se algum dia voltara ao Brasil:

Meu caminho pelo mundo eu mesmo traço
A Bahia já me deu régua e compasso
Quem sabe de mim sou eu - aquele abraço!
Pra você que meu esqueceu - aquele abraço!

Alô, Rio de Janeiro - aquele abraço!
Todo o povo brasileiro - aquele abraço!

2005-10-21T18:44:00.000Z

ORANGE BLOSSOM SPECIAL (1939)

Composto por Ervin T. Rouse e Chubby Wise

Cantado porGamble Rogers e Will McLean

O Orange Blossom Special, que percorria a costa leste dos Estados Unidos, foi o primeiro comboio a ligar directamente Nova Iorque a Miami.

Look a-yonder comin'

Comin' down that railroad track

Hey, look a-yonder comin'

Comin' down that railroad track

It's the Orange Blossom Special

Bringin' my baby back

Well,I'm going down to Florida

And get some sand in my shoes

Or maybe Californy

And get some sand in my shoes

I'll ride that Orange Blossom Special

And lose these New York blues

2005-10-20T03:08:00.000Z

CASIMIR PULASKI DAY
Sufjan Stevens

Golden rod and the 4-H stone
The things I brought you
When I found out you had cancer of the bone

Your father cried on the telephone
And he drove his car to the Navy yard
Just to prove that he was sorry

In the morning through the window shade
When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade
I could see what you were reading

All the glory that the lord has made
And the complications you could do without
When I kissed you on the mouth

Tuesday night at the bible study
We lift our hands and pray over your body
But nothing ever happens

I remember at Michael's house
In the living room when you kissed my neck
And I almost touched your blouse

In the morning at the top of the stairs
When your father found out what we did that night
And you told me you were scared

All the glory when you ran outside
With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied
And you told me not to follow you

Sunday night when I cleaned the house
I find the card where you wrote it out
With the pictures of your mother

On the floor at the great divide
With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied
I am crying in the bathroom

In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low
And the cardinal hits the window

In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing

All the glory that the lord has made
And the complications when I see his face
In the morning in the window

All the glory when he took our place
But he took my shoulders and he shook my face
And he takes and he takes and he takes

Sufjan Stevens

2005-10-19T15:08:00.000Z

INNOCENT WHEN YOU DREAM
Tom Waits

It's such a sad old feeling
The hills are soft and green
It's memories that I'm stealing
But you're innocent when you dream
When you dream
You are innocent when you dream

Imagem: Le Baiser de L'Hotel de Ville, Robert Doisneau

2005-10-18T20:53:00.000Z

THE SHEIK OF ARABY (1921)
Harry Smith, Francis Wheeler e Ted Snider
Tocado por Fats Waller and his Orchestra

The Sheik de 1921, o filme que inspirou esta musica, foi um dos maiores sucessos do cinema mudo e transformou Rudolfo Valentino numa estrela estratosferica.

The Sheik of Araby e uma das musicas mencionadas por Philip Roth no livro O Teatro de Sabbath, que foi lido no Leitura Partilhada

2005-10-17T01:19:00.000Z

SINGING IN THE RAIN (1952)
Mint Royale Remix

Mint Royale
Mint Royale: Singin' in the Rain

2005-10-14T15:18:00.000Z

VIA CON ME
Paolo Conte

Paolo Conte descreve-se a si proprio com um advogado com a mania do jazz, cujas referencias musicais e poeticas pertencem a um passado distante e romantico. Entre outras posso citar a Paris dos anos 20,o jazz ouvido pelos soldados americanos na Italia do pos-guerra,os filmes a preto e branco, a chanson francaise, as cancoes napolitanas do inicio do seculo XX, as habaneras e congas da Havana pre-revolucionaria e as aventuras de Corto Maltese.

2005-10-13T12:18:00.000Z

BACHIANAS BRASILEIRAS No.5-ARIA (1938)
Heitor Villa-Lobos
Cantada por N'Kenge Simpson-Hoffman

"Sim, sou brasileiro e bem brasileiro. Na minha música eu deixo cantar os rios e os mares deste grande Brasil. Eu não ponho mordaça na exuberância tropical de nossas florestas e dos nossos céus, que eu transponho instintivamente para tudo que escrevo."
Heitor Villa-Lobos

Museu Villa-Lobos
Imagem: Le Reve, Henri Rousseau

2005-10-12T04:53:00.000Z

SIX-BITS BLUES (1923)
Poema de Langston Hughes
Musica de Leonard Feather

Gimme six-bits' worth o' ticket

On a train that runs somewhere

I say six-bits' worth o' ticket

On a train that runs somewhere.

I don't care where it's goin'

Just so it goes away from here.

Baby, gimme a little lovin'

But don't make it too long.

A little lovin', babe, but

Don't make it too long.

Make it short and sweet, your lovin'

So I can roll along.

I got to roll along!

"I tried to write poems like the songs they sang on Seventh Street...(these songs) had the pulse beat of the people who keep on going."
Langston Hughes sobre "The Weary Blues"

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