Je vous souhaite bien du bonheur
Son-et-lumiere
When I was a boy with never a crack in my heart.
Samedi 12 mars 2011 à 19:39
Vendredi 11 mars 2011 à 19:49
Ce n'est pas drôle, on est tous d'accord. mais il faut reconnatitre que la nature fait bien les choses :
Image venant encore du site du Boston Globe.
Image venant encore du site du Boston Globe.
Lundi 7 mars 2011 à 18:32
Je n'ai absolument pas le temps de plus m'interesser a lui aujourd'hui (mais je le ferai !) et ne vous fait donc pas de blabla, je vous invite simplement a cliquer pour découvrir un sax quasi-inconnu : le saxophone basse. Sublime le saxophone basse !
Et de vraiment bons saxophonistes basses dont j'aime la production, il y en a très peu : James Carter, Serge Bertocchi (qui joue même du Tubax, le saxophone contrebasse), Frédéric Couderc... J'en oublie mais ils doivent tout de même se compter sur les orteils d'un pied.
*Petite pause détente..(clik)*
Une petite vidéo de James Carter s'échauffant avant un concert...
Et voici donc ce saxophoniste que la blogothèque propose, un autre regard (et mon préféré) sur la sax via ce qui s'apparente plus a de la musique contemporaine mais qui n'est en tout cas ni du jazz, ni du rock.
Et de vraiment bons saxophonistes basses dont j'aime la production, il y en a très peu : James Carter, Serge Bertocchi (qui joue même du Tubax, le saxophone contrebasse), Frédéric Couderc... J'en oublie mais ils doivent tout de même se compter sur les orteils d'un pied.
*Petite pause détente..(clik)*
Une petite vidéo de James Carter s'échauffant avant un concert...
Et voici donc ce saxophoniste que la blogothèque propose, un autre regard (et mon préféré) sur la sax via ce qui s'apparente plus a de la musique contemporaine mais qui n'est en tout cas ni du jazz, ni du rock.
Samedi 5 mars 2011 à 22:26
Internet est un outil fabuleux. Il suffit de se laisser porter et de s'interesser. Encore un texte que le hasard m'a proposé alors que je faisait des recherches sans rapport... Tout est sur internet, surtout ce a quoi l'on ne s'attend pas. Et c'est bien le rôle que je m'impose, vous souffler a l'oreille ce que le vent m'apporte de beau.
"Marmonneur de mots"
Hommage à Aimé Césaire
Le chat plissait les yeux dans la langueur crépusculaire
Loin les tam-tams
L'homme chantait fraternel et fier
Le chat se rêvait grand lion nonchalant dans la savane
Loin les rives du Congo, loin les ancêtres
L'homme debout psalmodiait
La sueur ruisselait sur les torses nègres
Sourde clameur, claquements secs des fouets, fers rouges
Mais blancs, blancs les hurlements d'agonie dans le silence
L'homme chantait plus fort
Ravivant les consciences
Touffeur de la nuit tropicale, effluves obsédants de l'océan
Troubles visions, effroi sensuel
Épouvantable splendeur des corps tordus à la lueur des torches
Songes moites, érotiques et barbares
Aimé le flamboyant déversait un torrent de cruelle beauté
Une mélopée de révolte apaisante
"car l'homme qui crie n'est pas un ours qui danse"
l'homme qui crie n'est pas un ours qui danse
Et le chat marron plissait ses yeux d'ambre.
Ce poème n'est pas sans me rappeler "Au coeur des ténèbres" de J. Conrad, dont je parlais -ici-
Samedi 5 mars 2011 à 21:57
Les plus désespérés sont les chants les plus beaux,
Et j'en sais d'immortels qui sont de purs sanglots.
(Vous savez qui j'espère)
(De Musset, pour les incultes)
Vendredi 4 mars 2011 à 21:15
Sans douteuse exagération, cet album est sans doute le plus heureux que je connaisse. Jamais je ne l'ai écouté sans sourire a chaque note, et c'est un compagnon essentiel des matinées grises et/ou pluvieuses lorsqu'on est dans le RER a 7h le matin. Cet album a aussi le génie d'être de la musique "bizarre" et tout sauf sombre. La musique expérimentale est en générale sombre (je me répète, mais le terme me semble le plus adapté) et cet album se contente de me rendre heureux. Rien que ça.
Un morceau pour ceux qui (honte sur eux !) ne peuvent laisser a cet album le temps de se présenter de la tête aux pieds :
S'il vous plaît, écoutez ca...
Enfin je ne sais pas en parler, je suis un bien piètre chroniqueur. Je me contente de vous donner le lien et je vous fait confiance pour essayer.
Un morceau pour ceux qui (honte sur eux !) ne peuvent laisser a cet album le temps de se présenter de la tête aux pieds :
S'il vous plaît, écoutez ca...
Enfin je ne sais pas en parler, je suis un bien piètre chroniqueur. Je me contente de vous donner le lien et je vous fait confiance pour essayer.
THE LEMON OF PINK
Mercredi 2 mars 2011 à 19:44
Un jour je vous raconterai un peu, modestement, le "rap", ou plutôt Hip-Hop. La musique que les gens bien aiment pas. On peut pas leur en vouloir, il ne s'y sont jamais intéressé et n'ont jamais passé la "couche commerciale" a peu près inaudible.
Si je poste ca, c'est aussi pour le plaisir de montrer la pochette de ce premier EP de Sole.
Bien sur c'est très mal fait, vous ne pouvez pas regarder la vidéo et lire les paroles en même temps. Vous pouvez aller ->ici<- pour résoudre le problème
(Chorus)
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes
Top of the world
Yet I aint never left my head to turn and look back
Every second page is anthem
Perfected writ mood
In the perfect world I set the perfect mood
And in perverted abodes, I claim rogue
Enflame clothes and sing songs of underdepression love
Chemical imbalanceship, paranoia
My scientist fiction, I kick space raps that's down to Earth and
The kids that get dubs are the only ones that wanna listen
My words are my world, believe it or not they mean a lot to some
Can't say that I'm ahead of time, I fear that my time will never come
Can't exist outside the bottle, you'll crack under pressure
No aggression, why they've got to learn,
if they don't things won't get any better
Listenin' to God burn objects of animal animating
in a still life picture of the La Brea tar pit
Walking the surface of my red carpet
These are distress signals spanning you and I
Inversatile if anyone here's a soul survivor of a dying civilization
A galaxy called integrity (In that belt called creativity)
But it's not a black corpse, snuffed by a cold world, I keep warm
By burning dead bodies smelling the beats and never cess
So, um, you can walk the streets until the building no longer remains
My people are my people, comrades, and allies, the lines are drawn
This is my gold tank, everywhere I go don't belong
I'm known by most, hated by many, endured by the rest
Police in dead skin, I'm so East,
well then why did I end up on the West???
Don't wanna sacrifice my cadence,
and sentence structure design of my rhymes, etc.
ANTICON, hip-hop music for the advancement of mankind
More than an egomanical sarcastic label for a movement
So when the chain still smells
like a million dead corpses and kerosene marching
To burn down the walls of the village and storm the castle,
run up the damsels
Take 'em to the river, now we can spawn
This aint premillenium tension, it's the result of too much free time,
On dusty fingers, and it'll be a wonderful ride
A million bleeding hearts composing prose in blood
To live and die a thousand times
(Chorus)
Ever been to Hell?
This is a black-and-white photo album outlines in increments
The infrastructure is dead
Instructed look at the scene of the massacre askin' for forgiveness,
no beggin'
No degrading anybody, everybody's in the alleyway for the Sole cast
??? watch me rip it and mark my words in white chalk
Gawking at reflections walking in insurrections getting bad ones
This isn't spoken word, it's the reinvention of Sugar Hill
Right now, your girl is transfixed upon my hips
And this is Sole, and we're makin love right now,
so I don't need to take her to the hotel
This is a love song, I pass out roses with the thorns in my flesh
It's like these are groupies, I'm a mammal,
my whole life's a freestyle set
The Earth's an orb in the sky, so nothing gets to my head
The universe is my A&R, by the time I fall off, I'll probably dead
It's been a long time since those mountain pipe dreams were stuffed in snow
Now my culture's pierced, by the greatest accountance I've ever known
It's nothing personal, hip-hop design has gotten vain,
So emcees I aint feeling you, if I don't know your real name
Hip-hop aint dead, the industry's just wack,
and hip-hop is a thoroughfare
Keep your sights set
What do you wanna move, rappers, minds or posteriors?
I'm still a fan, corporate insider, and brain nigga
It's springtime we're the centaurs and people in grass skirts
This is the verge, the melting point
When your favorite emcees can't be lazy anymore
This is psychopath, this is psych rap
With violence, violence
My life is stranded on an island with no food
and beautiful women feeding my ego or what little is left
No, this is gangsta rap and my shirt's unbuttoned
We're stealing moments of brilliance in the limelights
choppin' up keys to break the floodgates
Maybe this is instrumental hip-hop and I don't know when to shut up
Or maybe this is turntable music,
scratch the I's and I'll scratch yours
Or what if this is honest music, and I mean every other word I say
Don't take anything literal, out-of-context,
just take it for what it is
If you want labels, we can divide, I'll still be strong
Bottom line it's all art (This is a good and a bad song)
(Chorus)
Si je poste ca, c'est aussi pour le plaisir de montrer la pochette de ce premier EP de Sole.
Bien sur c'est très mal fait, vous ne pouvez pas regarder la vidéo et lire les paroles en même temps. Vous pouvez aller ->ici<- pour résoudre le problème
(Chorus)
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes
Top of the world
Yet I aint never left my head to turn and look back
Every second page is anthem
Perfected writ mood
In the perfect world I set the perfect mood
And in perverted abodes, I claim rogue
Enflame clothes and sing songs of underdepression love
Chemical imbalanceship, paranoia
My scientist fiction, I kick space raps that's down to Earth and
The kids that get dubs are the only ones that wanna listen
My words are my world, believe it or not they mean a lot to some
Can't say that I'm ahead of time, I fear that my time will never come
Can't exist outside the bottle, you'll crack under pressure
No aggression, why they've got to learn,
if they don't things won't get any better
Listenin' to God burn objects of animal animating
in a still life picture of the La Brea tar pit
Walking the surface of my red carpet
These are distress signals spanning you and I
Inversatile if anyone here's a soul survivor of a dying civilization
A galaxy called integrity (In that belt called creativity)
But it's not a black corpse, snuffed by a cold world, I keep warm
By burning dead bodies smelling the beats and never cess
So, um, you can walk the streets until the building no longer remains
My people are my people, comrades, and allies, the lines are drawn
This is my gold tank, everywhere I go don't belong
I'm known by most, hated by many, endured by the rest
Police in dead skin, I'm so East,
well then why did I end up on the West???
Don't wanna sacrifice my cadence,
and sentence structure design of my rhymes, etc.
ANTICON, hip-hop music for the advancement of mankind
More than an egomanical sarcastic label for a movement
So when the chain still smells
like a million dead corpses and kerosene marching
To burn down the walls of the village and storm the castle,
run up the damsels
Take 'em to the river, now we can spawn
This aint premillenium tension, it's the result of too much free time,
On dusty fingers, and it'll be a wonderful ride
A million bleeding hearts composing prose in blood
To live and die a thousand times
(Chorus)
Ever been to Hell?
This is a black-and-white photo album outlines in increments
The infrastructure is dead
Instructed look at the scene of the massacre askin' for forgiveness,
no beggin'
No degrading anybody, everybody's in the alleyway for the Sole cast
??? watch me rip it and mark my words in white chalk
Gawking at reflections walking in insurrections getting bad ones
This isn't spoken word, it's the reinvention of Sugar Hill
Right now, your girl is transfixed upon my hips
And this is Sole, and we're makin love right now,
so I don't need to take her to the hotel
This is a love song, I pass out roses with the thorns in my flesh
It's like these are groupies, I'm a mammal,
my whole life's a freestyle set
The Earth's an orb in the sky, so nothing gets to my head
The universe is my A&R, by the time I fall off, I'll probably dead
It's been a long time since those mountain pipe dreams were stuffed in snow
Now my culture's pierced, by the greatest accountance I've ever known
It's nothing personal, hip-hop design has gotten vain,
So emcees I aint feeling you, if I don't know your real name
Hip-hop aint dead, the industry's just wack,
and hip-hop is a thoroughfare
Keep your sights set
What do you wanna move, rappers, minds or posteriors?
I'm still a fan, corporate insider, and brain nigga
It's springtime we're the centaurs and people in grass skirts
This is the verge, the melting point
When your favorite emcees can't be lazy anymore
This is psychopath, this is psych rap
With violence, violence
My life is stranded on an island with no food
and beautiful women feeding my ego or what little is left
No, this is gangsta rap and my shirt's unbuttoned
We're stealing moments of brilliance in the limelights
choppin' up keys to break the floodgates
Maybe this is instrumental hip-hop and I don't know when to shut up
Or maybe this is turntable music,
scratch the I's and I'll scratch yours
Or what if this is honest music, and I mean every other word I say
Don't take anything literal, out-of-context,
just take it for what it is
If you want labels, we can divide, I'll still be strong
Bottom line it's all art (This is a good and a bad song)
(Chorus)
Vous m'excuserez de ne pas prendre le temps d'aider pour les paroles... Les motivés (je doute qu'il y en ai) chercheront !
Son-et-lumiere
When I was a boy with never a crack in my heart.
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