miércoles, 17 de diciembre de 2008

Nick Drake - Poor Boy

Os lo regalo por mi cumple:

Nick Drake - Poor Boy

Never sing for my supper
I never help my neighbour
Never do what is proper
For my share of labour.
I'm a poor boy
And I'm a rover
Count your coins and
Throw them over my shoulder
I may grow older
Nobody knows
How cold it grows
And nobody sees
How shaky my knees
Nobody cares
How steep my stairs
And nobody smilesIf
I cross their stiles.
Oh poor boy
So sorry for himself
Oh poor boy
So worried for his health.
You may say every day
Where will he stay tonight.
Never know what I came for
Seems that I've forgotten
Never ask what I came for
Or how I was begotten.
I'm a poor boy
And I'm a ranger
Things I say
May seem stranger than Sunday
Changing to Monday.
Nobody knows
How cold it flows
And nobody feels
The worn down heels
Nobody's eyes
Make the skies
Nobody spreads
Their aching heads.
Oh poor boy
So worried for his life
Oh poor boy
So keen to take a wife.
He's a mess but he'll say yes
If you just dress in white.
Nobody knows
How cold it blows
And nobody sees
How shaky my knees
Nobody cares
How steep my stairs
And nobody smiles
If you cross their stiles.
Oh poor boy
So sorry for himself
Oh poor boy
So worried for his health.
You may say every day
Where will he stay tonight.
Oh poor boy
So worried for his life
Oh poor boy
So keen to take a wife.
Oh poor boy
So sorry for himself
Oh poor boy
So worried for his health
Oh poor boy.


lunes, 15 de diciembre de 2008

Cortez the Killer - Neil Young

La guitarra de Neil Young es única para destrozar lo que queda de uno en una noche de bajón... logra sacar a las cuerdas un extraño grito de melancolía, un socorro, un socorro ahogado.... oir esta canción en momentos delicados es como tener una mano revolviéndote el estómago...

Cortez the Killer - Zuma, 1975

(El formato es un audio de la versión estudio del Zuma, el vídeo es un montaje que alguien hizo hace tiempo en algún lugar, es prescindible; mejor escuchar)

Rude Mood - Stevie Ray Vaughan

Sin rodeos, que hoy no me apetece enrollarme; esta canción va para ese cibernauta de oficina que mata las últimas horas de curro deambulando por la blogosfera sin rumbo y sin sentido.

¿Qué son? ¿Las cinco? El jefe ya se ha ido, y esos informes pueden esperar hasta mañana. Échate un café y disfruta del portentoso talento del señor Stevie Ray Vaughan en directo. No sabía muy bien qué tema elegir, pero me parece que a estas horas me apetece un blues en 4/4 rapidito, y qué mejor elección que “Rude Mood”, uno de los blues sabrosones de su celebérrimo álbum “Texas Flood”, cien por cien recomendado.

Los entendidos dicen de ésta pieza que requiere gran destreza y concentración, por sus cambios continuos, sus riffs, sus secciones… pero el caso es que el tío está ahí, con su cigar en la boca, su pose de bluesman bajo el sombrero tejano, y parece que no le cuesta el más mínimo esfuerzo…

Con todos ustedes, Stevie Ray Vaughan…

jueves, 4 de diciembre de 2008

Más prog...

Del último disco. Iba a decir algo sobre el bajo de la canción, pero según la vas escuchando van molando más todos los instrumentos.

Tool - The Pot

Who are you to wave your finger?
You must have been outta your head
Eye hole deep in muddy waters
You practically raised the dead

Rob the grave to snow the cradle
Then burn the evidence down
Soapbox house of cards and glass so
Don't go tossin' your stones around

You must have been high
You must have been high
You must have been

Foot in mouth and head up ass
So whatcha talkin' 'bout?
Difficult to dance 'round this one
'til you pull it out, boy

You must have been so high
You must have been so high

Steal, borrow, refer, save your shady inference
Kangaroo done hung the jury with the innocent

Now you're weeping shades of cozened indigo
Got lemon juice up in your eye, eye
When you pissed all over my black kettle

You must have been high
You must have been high

Who are you to wave your finger?
So full of it
Eye balls deep in muddy waters
Fuckin' hypocrite

Liar, lawyer; mirror show me, what's the difference?
Kangaroo done hung the guilty with the innocent

Now you're weeping shades of cozened indigo
Got lemon juice up in your eye, eye
When you pissed all over my black kettle
You must've been...

So who are you to wave your finger?
Who are you to wave your fatty fingers at me?
You must have been out your mind

Weepin' shades of indigo
Trapped without a reason
Weepin' shades of indigo

Liar, lawyer; mirror, for you, what's the difference?
Kangaroo be stoned. He's guilty as the government

Now you're weeping shades of cozened indigo
Got lemon juice up in your eye, eye
Now when you pissed all over my black kettle

You must've been
High
High
High
High

Eyeballs deep in muddy waters
Eyeballs deep in muddy waters
Ganja Police
You must have been out your mind