no return

c h a m e l e o n

light my way

dark wave

Crashing buildings

O buço

Não.

Não. Assim não pode ser. Gastam-se rios de massa a promover Portugal. Muda-se o nome do Algarve para o mais fashionable "ALLgarve". Pespegam-se as caras em tamanho monumental do Cristiano Ronaldo, do Mourinho e sei lá mais de quem pela cidade afora e, quiçá, noutras cidades. Há uma Secretaria, instituições, associações, fundações, clubes, pessoas em barda a serem pagas para mostrar ao estrangeiro que Portugal é um país dinâmico, moderno, desenvolvido e, principalmente, longe dos estereótipos das velhinhas vestidas de preto e com um buço majestoso a cavalgarem o seu jumento pelas ruas desertas de uma qualquer aldeola caiada de branco. Mas o amigo estrangeiro, quando chega a altura de mandar um "oh so typical" postal para casa, qual é que vai escolher quando passa por um daqueles omnipresentes expositores de postais?

Pois é.

Assim não senhores. Alguém tem de fazer alguma coisa.

.

Build

Dividing?
Those times are over my friend.
A new era is upon us. I don't want to divide.
Dividing is what we teach our young ones.
Well, i'm not one of them anymore.
I want to build.


Gunther Dünn

RIP Paul Newman

1925-2008

Tierra Santa

E na sequência do post anterior....Foram a banda sonora das minhas férias. O "Slaves for Life" dos Amaseffer também lá andou, mas na verdade perdi a conta às vezes em que atravessei aquela "belíssima" localidade da Costa da Caparica com estes senhores a bombar a bom som.

Legendario:



Hamlet:



Una Juventud Perdida:



Quien Llora Hoy Por Tì:



La Cancion Del Pirata:



Pegaso:



Juana de Arco:



Alas de Fuego:



Hoy Vivo Por Ti:

Sim, atraí bastantes atenções, mas so fuckin' what? Um tributo adequado a uma banda que, aparentemente, is no more. O que é uma grande perda para a música em geral e para a música espanhola em particular. Pouco mais vem de lá que seja de jeito....


.

Rumbo a las Estrellas

Quisiera ser audaz
navegar hacia el horizonte
surcar las olas del mar

Sentir el viento en mí
dominar la tempestad
tener por rumbo las estrellas

Buscar mi sueño
donde el cielo aun sea azul
viajar sin miedo a naufragar
y una bandera solo izar...
Libertad

Olvidar que el destino me engaño
que mi vida se escapo
perdida entre los muros del destierro

Olvidar mi tormento y mi dolor
mi lamento y mi prision
Zarpar poniendo rumbo...
rumbo a las estrellas
rumbo a las estrellas
poder volar allí

Y aunque la noche
se apodere de la luz
buscare mi libertad
mas alla de las estrellas

Quisiera ver el mar
elevarse hacia la luna
mirar su danza escapar

Poder volar alli
acercarme a su amistad
bailar con ellas aunque muera

Buscar mi sueño
donde el cielo aun sea azul
viajar sin miedo a naufragar
y una bandera solo izar...
Libertad

Olvidar que el destino me engaño
que mi vida se escapo
perdida entre los muros del destierro

Olvidar mi tormeto y mi dolor
mi lamento y mi prision
Zarpar poniendo rumbo...
rumbo a las estrellas
rumbo a las estrellas
poder volar allí

.

Ocean

.

Clone Wars

Pelos vistos não sou um grande nerd do Star Wars, senão teria sabido com a devida antecedência deste filme, em vez de ser surpreendido pelo trailer numa sala de cinema. Por outro lado até teve mais piada. Embora o facto de ser uma animação me tenha deixado assim a modos de pé atrás. Mas enfim...não foi preciso grande esforço para ir ver. Muito menos num ano aparentemente dedicado ao cinema. Star Wars? Venha ele.
E bom, valha a verdade, não é nada mau. Sinceramente estava à espera duma banhada qualquer, mas de facto o filme divertiu-me e manteve-me interessado mesmo até ao fim. A expansão do Universo Star Wars pode dar lugar a exageros e complicações desnecessárias, mas conseguiram evitá-las aqui, e muito bem.
A animação parece algo rude ou melhor, estilizada. Torna as coisas menos credíveis por um lado, mas por outro, assume-se totalmente que se trata de uma animação, pelo que, no fim, acaba por funcionar.
Espécie de prelúdio à série que o Cartoon Network irá estrear em Outubo (será que a Cabovisão apanha "este" Cartoon Network?), é um filme que acaba por entreter muito bem. Mas sim, calculo que o fanático da saga deva encontrar mil e um motivos para criticar. Enfim. Quanto a mim, a única coisa que lamento é a falta do clássico painel de letras amarelas e subirem obliquamente pelo ecrã. Mas pronto. É passável.

Trailer:



Trailer da série animada:



.

To Ania & Staff

There's not much one can say i guess. Except "Thank You". Yes, that's it. Less is more, as they say. And in those simple two words you will find a multitude of laughs, kisses, hugs, joy, happiness...and also funny faces! LOL Anyway, you were here, so you know how good it was.
Staff, thanks for all the conversations about all and nothing. Like i said in the last night, i would be up and running watching every DVD i have just to keep on talking. With or without red wine. You're fuckin' metal my friend!
Ania, thank you for being so sweet and funny, for being there for me and making me laugh. And of course, for bringing the sun with you (amazing damnit). I'm sorry if i spoke portuguese too quickly sometimes, but i really tried hard (portuguese damnit! lol). Anyway i do thank you also about the shnouruvki lol. Jesteś piękna! Oh, and Ania....WHERE'S MY LIGHTER GODDAMNIT!???????

We'll meet again.

Hiffen @ Avante 2008

.

Avante 2008

.

Long Train Running

The train pulled into the small station slowly and almost looking tired and jaded. John wondered how would a train feel, if it had any feelings that is, always going through the same tracks, day after day, picking up all these people who don’t look very happy at all. It would be depressing John thought. Maybe the train companies had to set up some sort of train shrink or whatever.
Anyway, 6:30 AM in New Jersey, heading to New York. Another day, another dollar, or so they say.
John entered the train and he did what he usually did: assess the surroundings. Long time ago his aikido sensei told him that one has to be always ready, awake and aware of what surrounds him. And since his youth plans of turning into this macho man running around the streets protecting the defenceless and saving young damsels in distress never came to be, he had no other place to practice his highly martial skills than in the train.
He scanned the carriage trying to find a seat, preferably not near any bum, fat people (damn these narrow seats), crying babies or nosy old hags that wouldn’t shut up even if their life depended on that.
Awkwardly, there were lots of seats empty, and he was happy with that. He sat next to a window and felt at ease, letting himself go in the barren wasteland that the window now showed him. He averted his eyes with a sigh.
The train was just restarting his way and John was surprised not having noticed it had stopped in the next station. Yeah the human auto-pilot must've kicked in.
A woman carrying lots of shopping bags approached him and sat next to him. Typical. With so many seats available this old hag had to choose the closest one even though she would go more comfortable a few seats further. And what in God’s name is someone doing with so god damned bags, shopping bags, at 6:30 AM? (It was actually 6:50 AM, but John didn’t know that because his watch had stopped. But he will find that out soon).
He grabbed his book and turned on his discman, pumping up the volume of Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust” to avoid the screaming child that also entered the train with is too indulgent mother.
He went through Thoreau’s “Walden, Or Life On The Woods”, dwelling on the feeling of utter loneliness the book exhaled and thinking how it would be to live in such extreme conditions, with no one around.
Deep into his book, and deprived of any external sound by his music, away from a carriage with so many people, he suddenly realized that he was, in a way, living isolated from the outside world.
He looked to the half filled carriage and suddenly noticed that a lot of people there were also hanging to their own mp3 readers, books, newspapers, the floor or the window…..hardly anyone was actually in contact. Lonely people in a lonely World.
John felt that he, and all of the others, had built some sort of wall, or better yet, a castle around themselves. Something that it was hard to overcame…both to the people outside and the person inside. It isolated them from one another.
It's weird, he thought, that the more lonely people are, and the more they felt sad because of it, the more they made their loneliness bigger, with all the gadgets, and what not, that this World made available. "All the lonely people, where do they all belong?" indeed, like Macca used to sing. Well, they sure don't seem to belong anywhere special. People talk about the dangers of Globalization, and even rally and demonstrate against it, but no one seemed to think about the ever growing Individuality that was spreading in each and every soul. John cringed a bit because he recognized that he too was a bit taken by it...but he struggled, he wanted something different. But those damn castle walls were a real tough nut to crack! Not that he was any better than the rest...but still...damn World.
Everyone nowadays appears to be over-conscious of themselves. Only the "I" and the "Me" seem to survive. Each and everyone seems to worry mainly about their own rights, desires and ambitions. Not a case of egotistical behaviour though. Maybe some kind of screwed up priorities.

Everyone tried hard to preserve their "I's" and "Me's" and just be different than everyone else. Everyone tried hard to escape the herd, but the harder they tried, the same they all look.

No wonder unhappiness roamed the land. Who will take the first step and get out of this god forsaken train ride?

Gunther Dünn
.

Remar Remar....

Mares convulsos, ressacas estranhas
Cruzam-te a alma de verde escuro
As ondas que te empurram
Aa vagas que te esmagam
Contra tudo lutas
Contra tudo falhas

Todas as tuas explosões
Redundam em silêncio
Nada me diz

Berras às bestas
Que te sufocam
Em braços viscosos
Cheios de pavor
Esse frio surdo
O frio que te envolve
Nasce na fonte
Na fonte da dor

Remar remar
Força a corrente
Ao mar, ao mar
Que mata a gente


.

Walking alone

Este ano foram os:

Hiffen dos Açores. Foi uma sorte apanhá-los no palco, porque para cada lado que se olhava saltava um horário diferente. Portanto foi mesmo por acaso que os apanhámos. E sim senhor. Gostei bastante do som deles. Heavy metal com grandes doses de progressivo e vocalista feminino. Segundo diz a LOUD! celebraram recentemente o se 12º aniversário. Álbuns só um, "Crashing" de seu nome, que, naturalmente, tratámos de adquirir imediatamente a seguir ao concerto. A banda estava nitidamente feliz de estar ali e foram simpáticos assinando os belos dos CDs.

Palavras para quê? Som e imagem dizem tudo. Embora deva dizer que, após audição repetida do álbum ontem (numa malfadada operação stop quas eà porta de casa), os Hiffen actualmente soam melhor ao vivo. Ainda melhor. Hmmm... será possível que tenham conseguido cantar metal em português sem se tornar demasiado constrangedor? Ah pois conseguiram.

http://www.myspace.com/hiffen

"Rainbow":

.

Adiante, siga!

http://blitz.aeiou.pt/gen.pl?p=stories&op=view&fokey=bz.stories/30382

E mais uma vez. Xutos, Júlio Pereira, X-Wife, Wraygunn, Verdi, Rossini, Mozart, Puccini, Phil Mendrix, etc etc.