sexta-feira, 21 de novembro de 2014
quarta-feira, 19 de novembro de 2014
Amanita - 'Amanita' (2014)
Bem-vindos ao lado melancólico e sombrio
do Psych / Doom. Este disco homónimo dos germânicos Amanita germinou tão para
lá da luz e calor das estrelas cosmológicas, num lugar onde só a placidez
enlutada subsiste. É um disco invernoso para escutar de cabisbaixo e pálpebras
cerradas. Uma envolvente, sideral e embriagada odisseia que nos entorpece a
alma e a extravia pelo cosmos adentro. Sintam a pesarosa radiância de duas
guitarras modorrentas que conduzem o riff pelas estradas de um universo
enfadonho e plangente. É a doce inércia dedilhada com enorme perícia e emoção. A extasiante transcendência pela infinidade. Sintam
o baixo bafejante que sombreia as funestas incursões da guitarra, e as cadenciadas
e arrastadas batidas de uma bateria narcotizada. Vai ser fácil subjugarem-se a esta
ambiência extremamente letárgica, capaz de suspender toda a vossa vivacidade e
lucidez. Este é o lado eclipsado da consciência. O despertar num espaço intensamente onírico e
de horizontes bocejantes. “Amanita” trata-se de uma lindíssima e sedutora digressão
espacial pelo lúgubre cosmos que se adensa tão para lá da nossa percepção.
terça-feira, 18 de novembro de 2014
segunda-feira, 17 de novembro de 2014
domingo, 16 de novembro de 2014
Josh Homme @ The Screaming Trees '96
It was a desert epiphany. The desert is a place where you see forever,
and you feel small. It makes everything that really is important stick
out and everything else is gone. Mountains in your life get shrunk back
down to molehills.
quinta-feira, 13 de novembro de 2014
Interstellar (2014) de Christopher Nolan ★★★★★
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas 1914-1953
quarta-feira, 12 de novembro de 2014
terça-feira, 11 de novembro de 2014
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