Julian Lennon – Valotte

Sitting on the doorstep of the house I can’t afford, I can feel you there Thinking of a reason, well, it’s really not very hard to love you even though you nearly lost my heart How can I explain the meaning of our love? It fits so tight, closer than a glove

Sitting on a pebble by the river playing guitar Wond’ring if we’re really ever gonna get that far Do you know there’s something wrong? ‘Cause I’ve felt it all along

I can see your face in the mirrors of my mind Will you still be there? We’re really not so clever as we seem to think we are We’ve always got our troubles so we solve them in the bar As the days go by, we seem to drift apart If I could only find a way to keep hold of your heart

Sitting on a pebble by the river playing guitar Wond’ring if we’re really ever gonna get that far Do you know there’s something wrong? ‘Cause I’ve felt it all along

Sitting in the valley as I watch the sun go down I can see you there. Thinking of a reason, well, it’s really not very hard to love you even though you nearly lost my heart When will we know when the change is gonna come? I’ve got a good feeling and it’s coming from the sun

Sitting on a pebble by the river playing guitar Wond’ring if we’re really ever gonna get that far Do you know there’s something wrong We’ll stick together ’cause we’re strong

I’ll watch you when you say What you are And when you blame Everyone, you broken king

I’ll watch you change the frame I’ll watch you When you take your aim At the sum of everything

You and your heart Shouldn’t feel so far apart You can’t choose what you take Why you gotta break and Make it feel so hard

You lay there in the street Like broken glass Reflecting pieces of the sun You’re not the flame

You cut the people passing by Because you know what you don’t like It’s just so easy It’s just so easy

You and your heart Shouldn’t feel so far apart You can’t choose What you take Why you gotta break and Make it feel so hard You and your heart Shouldn’t feel so far apart You can’t choose What you take Why you gotta break and Make it feel so hard

You draw so many lines in the sand Lost the fingernails on your hands How you gonna scratch any backs Better hope the tide Will take our lines away Take all our lines and….

Hope the tide will take our lines a… Hope the tide will take our lines away Take all our lines away

Siento quenas que en el viento huyen trayendo amores y silencios de las peñas que encierran el sol en su corazón. Entre airampos de luna samponias que en el viento huyen en viaje buscando el cielo un cóndor va como mi ser resucitará buscando la luz.

Agua, cayendo del cielo agua, con furia y sin freno, lava todos mis recuerdos, dame en tus hojas la bendición. Guerras, amores y juegos fuegos, relámpagos, truenos barcos, montañas y sueños todo descansa en tu corazón. Era clara, era vida, de mis manos se escurría. Me besaba, me envolvía, pero siempre agua seguía. Amanecer, desnuda en tu ritual, y así te encuentro, serena siempre. Era clara, era vida, de mis manos se escurría.

Agua, ya sabemos cómo esto es. Agua, hay uno y si hay dos, no hay dos sin tres.

Agua, puede estar más fría y dura que vos, Agua, puede deshacerse en ardiente vapor. Agua, dame, dame, dame, dame un poco de tu paz Agua, que mi confusión es grande y así ya no puedo más.

Ui ui uh, ui ui uh, Agua, la tierra es tierra de color azul.

The Argentine rock movement was truly one of the first non-English forms of rock to be commercially successful outside its own nation.

Argentine rock, which was the first kind of rock in Spanish ever to emerge in either Spain or Latin America, has a “founding trilogy” in 1967 with three mythical bands:

1. Los Gatos (“The Cats”), similar to the Beatles, they disbanded in the 60′s;
2. Manal, more of a blues / hard rock thing, first aligned with the Stones and later aligned with the heavy metal movement until the 80′s;
3. Almendra (“Almond”) which was the real start of argentine progressive rock, also disappeared in the 60′s.

The founder of Almendra is the ENORMOUS, GIANT, KING OF PROGRESSIVE, Luis Alberto Spinetta, one of the best musicians of the 20th century, without any doubt, with over 45 years of a non-stop career. He’s still playing occassionally, and in 1973 he recorded with a later band (“Pescado Rabioso”, “Rabid Fish” in Spanish) the album “Artaud” which is regarded as one of the highest moments of argentine progressive rock, and one of the best albums of its time.

Above: Luis Alberto Spinetta (left) and Charly García in the ’80s

Listen to track #7 “Bajan” (“They are going down”) and #9 “Las Habladurias del Mundo” (“The Gossip of the World”). Those two tracks are the best IMHO, but in the good progressive fashion, the album is a highly conceptual one with a central story centered around Antonin Artaud‘s poems, that can be listened from start to end like a an opera.

Spinetta played not long ago in the Colón Theatre, one of the most important and biggest opera houses of the world, which is said to have “one of the five best acoustics in the world”…! I’ve been there twice. It’s unbelievably beautiful.

Sumo: this band was formed in 1981 by Luca Prodan, an Italian/English guy who went to Argentina to escape his heroin addiction, but died of cyrrhosis and cocaine in 1988, after having changed the argie music forever. He was the only one who dared sing in English in Argentine radios during the Falkland’s war.

His death was so terrible to argentines that graffittis saying “Luca Not Dead” still appear (written in English) in Buenos Aires. His influence is absolute. All the bands now say they were influenced by Sumo. I still remember the newspapers announcing his death. I was in secondary school at the time. All the kids were sad, even crying.

I recommend their album Divididos por la Felicidad (“Divided by Happiness”). Start with the all-time-classic #1, “La Rubia Tarada” (“The Dumb Blonde”), a rant against the trendy first class of Buenos Aires in the 80′s, and then move to #7, “Mejor no Hablar de Ciertas Cosas” (“Better not to talk about some things”). These two songs are simply, classics.

After Prodan died, Sumo split into two bands: Divididos (“Divided”) and Las Pelotas (“The Balls”). The first is more commercial and high profile, the second more progressive and underground. Divididos is called the “La Aplanadora del Rock” (“The Leveller of Rock”) given that they offer mega-concerts (at 100’000 people piece) lasting over 4 hours of pure rock.

Divididos’ album Narigón del Siglo (“Big-nosed-guy of the Century”) was recorded at Abbey Road studios, and is particularly representative of Divididos. This is really, really a rock band, in the purest sense of the term. My preferred tracks are #6 “Elefantes en Europa” (“Elephants in Europe”), which will explain you the “The Leveller of Rock” nickname…! And #11 “Pasiones Zurdas Derechas” (“Right-wing Lefty Passions”). Amazing rock. Really puts you in good mood.

From Las Pelotas’, I recommend Mascaras de Sal (“Masks of Salt”). Much more studied, thoughtful, very interesting and progressive. I love it. I recommend “Senderos” (“Paths”), track #1. But the whole album is simple IN-CRE-DI-BLE.

Soda Stereo: (“Stereo Sparkling Water”) is one the best selling argentine acts of the last 30 years. They are the incarnation of argentine pop, simple, and pure. They started in 1981 and finished in 1997 with a mega concert of 3 days in the largest football stadium in Buenos Aires. Listen to their 20 Greatest Hits album, for your listening pleasure: they are REALLY good, timeless kind of good. Start with tracks #3 “Nada Personal” (“Nothing Personal”) which is really representative of their 80′s, and then go to tracks #15 “Lo Que Sangra – La Cúpula” (“What Bleeds – The Cupola”) and #14 “Un Millón de Años Luz” (“One Million Light-Years”), the latest a much more mature and elaborated song, considered the most beautiful track of the band. Really my all time favorites.

Finally, Bersuit Vergarabat (or simply Bersuit, a name that doesn’t mean anything, really :) simply put, the most important band of the past 20 years. And still alive and kicking. They are very good. Capables of everything and anything: ska, rock, tango, pop, samba, murga, etc. Bersuit is one of those bands that 40 years from now will have streets named after them. They are really the biggest milestone in Argentine music since Sumo.

Their most interesting studio album is Hijos del Culo (“Sons of the A**” :) Listen to #12 “Negra Murguera” (“Black Woman from the Murga”) and #2 “La del Toro” (“The Song of the Bull”). The whole album goes from one style to the other, their lyrics are hilarious and at the same time terrible, they really sing the Argentine of today.

To close the loop, here’s the main singer of Soda Stereo (Gustavo Cerati, on the left) with Spinetta himself (at the right) singing “Bajan” from Pescado Rabioso (which I mentioned above) live:

And the argentine rock fan watches in awe, reverence, wonderment, admiration, as two epochs meet, greet and sing.

This video is a cornerstone moment in the history of argentine rock. I’m almost in tears.

Pocho Orozco: Odontólogo ortodoxo, doctor Como Borocotó Oncólogo jodón Morocho tordo Groncho jocoso Trosko Chocó con los montos Colocó Molotov. Bonzo. Toto Orozco: Colocón Drogón como pocos Tomó todos los hongos Monologó solo como por dos otoños Botó formol por los hongos Tomó cloroformo, bols, ron, porrón, torronto, toso Norto con Bordón ¿Lo votó o no? Dobló los codos como loco ¡¡Coño!! ¿sos vos Toto? Corroboró Socorro, cómo tomó Morfó hot dog, mondongo, pollo con porotos Lloró, lloró con dolor Por como lloró tomó como dos hongos Tocó fondo Tocó como loco Contó todo, todo, todo Bochornoso como Cóppolo. Stop. Stop.

Cholo Orozco: Mocoso Soplón Moroso Bocón Chorro como Grosso Robó dos potros por Comodoro, los montó, los trotó por Bolsón, por los Toldos, por Chocón Doloroso. Stop. Stop.

Tom Orozco: Proctólogo morboso Compró por los shops fotos porno color Compró como dos tomos Trozos Cosos Colchón roto Homós como Gomón Trolos gozosos con condón Pomos con moño rococó Todos polvos cortos Fogoso. Stop. Stop.

Nosotros no somos como los Orozco, yo los conozco, son ocho los monos: Pocho, Toto, Cholo, Tom, Moncho, Rodolfo, Otto, Pololo. Yo pongo los votos sólo por Rodolfo, los otros son locos, yo los conozco, no los soporto. Stop. Stop.

Moncho Orozco: Sólo probó porro Voló con los ojos rojos por los polos Voló por Bonn, voló por Hong Kong Por London, soñó con Yoko Ono, lloró por John Voló por vos Voló por nosotros Brotó como flor bordó Roló pot, nos contó Los tronchos son grosos como los corchos Bocho borroso. Stop. Stop.

Rodolfo Orozco: Con voz como John Scott Ronco, ronco Formó todos los coros Tocó: Doblo con Mollo, bombo con Moro, tom tom con Porno, joropo con Tormo, bongó con Don Johnson Tocó con Toto, los Lobos, los Door, los Moscos Compró dos vox Tocó “Socorro” con Pol Nos contó con honor: ¡Toco con Bob! ¡Toco con Bob! Sopló corno, trombón Tocó son sonoro con los cocos Rock, pop, folk, pogo Nos contó como oyó todos los: ¡¡Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh… !! Tocó con todos Por poco no tocó con Colón Coloso. Stop. Stop.

Otto Orozco: Con otros rollos Con poco protocolo Copó todo como los Born, Troncoso, Don Floro o los Lococo Logró otro comfort Ojo por ojo Controló todo Convocó por fono los otros Orozco Contó con todos Cobró todos los bonos Bocón Colocó montos grosos por Boston Cobró dos lotos Compró dos Ford, ocho Volvo, dos Gol Oro Motos Toros Compró los Coto, Rodó, Coconor Zorro. Stop. Stop.

Pololo Orozco: Gordo fofo con olor Mormón Glotón con jopo Rostro poroso Rotoso Como con motor roto Solo como croto Solo como topo Solo como Don Bosco con poncho Choto. Stop. Stop.

Nosotros no somos como los Orozco, yo los conozco, son ocho los monos: Pocho, Toto, Cholo, Tom, Moncho, Rodolfo, Otto, Pololo. Yo pongo los votos sólo por Rodolfo, los otros son locos, yo los conozco, no los soporto. Stop. Stop.

Cuántas veces se habrá escapado, como laucha por tirante y esta noche que no cuesta nada, ni siquiera fatigarme, podemos llevarnos un cordero, con solo cruzar la calle. Yo me escondí tras la niebla y miré al infinito, a ver si llegaba ese que nunca iba a venir. Estaba el diablo mal parado en la esquina de mi barrio, al lado de él estaba la muerte, con una botella en la mano.

Y temblando como una hoja, me crucé para encararlos, y les dije, me parece que esta vez me dejaron bien plantado. Les pedí fuego y del bolsillo saqué una rama pa´convidarlos y bajo un árbol del otoño nos quedamos chamuyando, me contaron de sus vidas, sus triunfos y sus fracasos, de que el mundo andaba loco y hasta el cielo fué comprado y más miedo que ellos dos, me daba el propio ser humano. Y yo ya no esperaba a nadie, y entre las risas del aquelarre el diablo y la muerte se me fueron amigando, ahí donde dobla el viento y se cruzan los atajos, ahí donde brinda la vida en la esquina de mi barrio

Here’s Kristofer Strom’s website.

America touts itself as the land of the free, but the number one freedom that you and I have is the freedom to enter into a subservient role in the workplace. Once you exercise this freedom you’ve lost all control over what you do, what is produced, and how it is produced. And in the end, the product doesn’t belong to you. The only way you can avoid bosses and jobs is if you don’t care about making a living. Which leads to the second freedom: the freedom to starve.

Tom Morello, guitarist from Rage Against the Machine, at Guitar World

Ya lleva quince años en su periplo; su equipo es tan precario como su destino. Sin embargo un anillo extraño ahuyenta sus peligros en el cosmos.

Ahí va el Capitán Beto por el espacio, la foto de Carlitos sobre el comando y un banderín de River Plate y la triste estampita de un santo. ¿Dónde está el lugar al que todos llaman cielo? Si nadie viene hasta aquí a cebarme unos amargos como en mi viejo umbral ¿Por qué habré venido hasta aquí, si no puedo más de soledad? Ya no puedo más de soledad.

Su anillo lo inmuniza contra el peligro, pero no lo proteje de la tristeza. Surcando la galaxia del Hombre, ahí va el Capitán Beto, el errante.

¿Dónde habrá una ciudad en la que alguien silbe un tango? ¿Dónde están, dónde están los camiones de basura, mi vieja y el café? Si esto sigue así como así, ni una triste sombra quedará, ni una triste sombra quedará.

Ahí va el Capitán Beto por el espacio, regando los malvones de su cabina. Sín brújula y sin radio, jamás podrá volver a la Tierra.

Tardaron muchos años hasta encontrarlo. El anillo de Beto llevaba inscripto un signo del alma.