Brutalnie pasujący do sytuacji tekst

You see her, you can't touch her
You hear her, you can't hold her
You want her, you can't have her
You want to, but she won't let you
You see her, you can't touch her
You hear her, you can't hold her
You want her, you can't have her
You want to, but she won't let you

She's not so special so look what you've done, boy
She's not so special so look what you've done, boy
She's not so special so look what you've done

Now you wish she'd never come back here again
Oh, never come back here again

You see her, you can't touch her
You hear her, you can't hold her
You want her, you can't have her
You want to, but she won't let you

You see her, you can't touch her
You hear her, you can't hold her
You want her, you can't have her
You want to, but she won't let you

She's not so special so look what you've done, boy
She's not so special so look what you've done, boy
She's not so special so look what you've done

Now I'm nailed above you
Gushing from my side
It's with your sins that you have killed me
Thinking of your sins I die
Thinking how you'd let them touch you
How you'd never realise
That I'm ripped and hang forsaken
Knowing never will I rise
Again

You still see her
Oh, you hear her
You want her
Oh, you want to
You see her
You hear her
You want her
You still want to

O que falar dos Franz Ferdinand que já não tenha sido dito pela imprensa mundial? A banda escocesa que, ao invés de usar apenas uma influência, usou inspirações musicais de um glossário de bandas e com isso está a conquistar cada vez mais público (a banda bateu a Beyoncé nos tops europeus, aquando a saída do primeiro álbum da banda), famosos (Brad Pitt é fã) e roqueiros (abrir a nova tournée de Morrissey não é para qualquer um). Trazendo muitos clichês, os Franz Ferdinand conseguiram o impossível: a aprovação da imprensa.
Eles são um caso de sucesso um pouco por todo o mundo. O álbum de estreia dos escoceses Franz Ferdinand foi bastante bem recebido pela crítica internacional e pelo público. Marcado por guitarras rápidas e uma enorme descontracção, Franz Ferdinand (2004) foi considerado um dos melhores álbuns de 2004, tendo recebido o Mercury Prize nesse ano.
Também, pudera. O disco de estreia é um milk shake de boas influências usadas no estilo “New Rock”, seguindo a filosofia: esqueçe a personalidade e toca como os teus ídolos. Na discoteca dos Franz Ferdinand há espaço para Public Image, Talking Heads, The Cure, Joy Division, New Order, The Smiths, Rolling Stones e a lista segue. Interessante também é que o álbum traz à memória novas bandas como: Strokes, The Libertines e The Walkmene.

Os meses e os dias foram sendo contados devagarinho, depois do disco de estreia, pelos meios de comunicação que, sobretudo nos dois meses anteriores ao lançamento do álbum, nos proporcionaram autênticos momentos de desespero com a publicação quase diária de notícias relativas aos concertos, ao cabelo e à voz do Alex Kapranos e ao lançamento, ao alinhamento, à capa, às cores, ao som e a tudo o resto de You could have it so much better (2005), que esteve para ter a mesma capa (com cores diferentes) e o mesmo título do primeiro álbum da banda. E todos os que se seguissem deveriam obedecer a este esquema. Bem, parece que o quarteto de Glasgow mudou de ideias e optou por um título mais convencional. De resto, eles têm-se em boa conta. Por isso, não estranhem o facto deles acharem que nós poderíamos “tê-lo muito melhor". O que quer que isso seja.
Quanto ao álbum propriamente dito, You could have it so much better não surpreende nem desilude. É tão bom como o seu antecessor, tão descontraído e leve, por um lado, e pretensioso e repetitivo, por outro, como seria de esperar. E acabo por gostar muito do que ouço. São vedetas - eu cá não me importo - e cobrem a música de sorrisos e frases lindas de morrer. E eu gosto disso.

O primeiro single retirado deste álbum, “Do You Want To”, materializa a ideia exposta. É dançável e cheia de groove. “Tu tu tu tu tu tu tu” e um videoclipe engraçado completam-se pelas televisões deste mundo. Mas é impossível ouvir a música sem se ficar espantado com a tamanha inofensibilidade da mesma: “Lucky, lucky / You’re so lucky”: repitam-mo até à exaustão porque eu sou capaz de acreditar. A sério.
De resto e por entre “Aaaaahhhhhh” e “Oooohhhh” de diversos tipos, lá vai correndo o álbum sem apresentar grandes novidades. Ainda assim, há alguns temas que fogem à monotonia - que eu não me importo nada que exista -. “I’m Your Villain”, por exemplo, continua dançável e cheia de groove mas – e à semelhança do que acontecia com “Take Me Out” em Franz Ferdinand – as mudanças de ritmo e um baixo competente fazem desta canção um oásis no deserto (é possível que a fuga para o lugar comum surja num momento em que a própria banda se apresenta como um…lugar comum).

“You Could Have It So Much Better”, tal como as restantes músicas, está tecnicamente irrepreensível mas o facto de se repetir até à exaustão – como “This Boy” ou “Fade Together” – não ajuda. Pelo meio, temos outras faixas relativamente interessantes como “What You Meant” e “Evil and a Heathen”. Este último é o mais barulhento dos 13 temas deste álbum e, à semelhança de “I’m Your Villain”, uma das poucas que se escapa ao mar mediano do “nem genial, nem péssimo” a que os Franz Ferdinand nos têm habituado.

Eles tocam bem e tudo o resto. Mas, apesar desta qualidade incontornável, os Franz Ferdinand não são deuses – apesar de estarem perfeitamente convencidos disso - mas continuamos a gostar dessa ideia.
Contemporâneos que unem criatividade e personalidade com um gostinho pelo desconhecido. Eles inventam em cima do que já foi inventado. Os Franz Ferdinand podem apenas ser apontados como a melhor das bandas que reciclam os anos 80, mas não é só isso. São bons, são divertidos, são dançantes e são "déjà vu" - mas quem é que se importa com isso? -.

Llevamos todo el verano con un goteo de adelantos de canciones de nuestros grupos favoritos. Algunos publicarán muy prontito, y otros tendremos que esperarlos hasta el 2009. De todas formas, es una buena manera de hacernos estar preparados para saciar nuestros oídos impacientes.

• Kaiser Chiefs - Never Miss A Beat. Podremos tener el nuevo disco en nuestras manos a mediados de Octubre. Se llamará Off with their heads.
• Keane - Spiralling. Estos originales músicos se preparan para traernos en las mismas fechas que Kaiser Chiefs su nuevo álbum. El título es Perfect Simmetry, y con este single parecen adelantarnos su notable evolución y sus nuevos sonidos, muy apetecible, la verdad.
• Oasis - The Shock of the Lightning. El nuevo disco Dig out your soul tiene previsto publicarse en octubre de este año (también!!). Se filtró también otra canción, Falling Down, versión de The Chemical Brothers.
• Franz Ferdinand - Lucid Dreams. Son los que más se retrasan. Para escuchar el disco completo tendremos que esperar hasta principios de 2009. ¿Será más de lo mismo o habrá alguna sorpresa? Por lo que nos enseñan en este single no parece que nos traigan novedades.

He subido las cuatro canciones a rapidshare, por si a alguien se le escapan ;)

On top of the 'live' blogging I was doing for The Skinny while in the muddy environs of Inverary last weekend, I've also cooked up another series of rehashed mini gig reviews for the magazine. This covers pretty much everything I saw, with the exception of The Roots, who were so disappointing in the acoustically shite Unknown Pleasures Tent that I couldn't bring myself to write about it.

Ladytron

Plonked behind eight synthesizers, black-clad and distant, like a state-sanctioned pop group of the former Soviet Union, Ladytron are definitely no festival band. Rocking their Eastern Bloc, disco-in-a-tower-block style for all its worth, they are pretty unemphatic in this open-air arena, but Seventeen and set-closer Everything You Touch remind us that they have produced some of the best electro-pop since the Human League.

Manic Street Preachers

There have been those, myself included, who wrote off the Manics as Britpop dinosaurs. How wrong we were, because Bradfield, Wire and Moore rollick triumphantly through their back catalogue, plucking out fan favourites such as Motorcycle Emptiness, Of Walking Abortion, Everything Must Go, You Love Us and tailor-made final song, A Design For Life. Covering Rihanna might smack of ageing desperation, but they're still a superior live band.

Kasabian

With divided loyalties between Kasabian and Mercury Rev, I can only attest to the first half of the former's Friday headlining set. They could have ended with a cover of the Postman Pat theme for all I know. But early on it's business as usual: big, swaggering indie hits like Processed Beats and L.S.F, an impressive lightshow, and the newly long-haired Meighan's hilarious rock-God complex.

Mercury Rev

Having enjoyed the Kasabian spectacle for 40 minutes, it is a sense of musical duty that makes me head over to catch the remainder of alt-rock veterans Mercury Rev. Swirling clouds of dry ice may conceal them, but the music is clear, direct, and loud. Their take on Talking Heads' Once In A Lifetime, with layers of intense guitar and crescendo, is immense, and they save Goddess On A Highway for a rousing encore.

Late of the Pier

Late of the Pier live up to their name, with their set delayed an hour as they're moved up to replace the cancelled Joan As Policewoman. An early afternoon in a muddy field is not the best context in which to enjoy their schizoid, experimental pop, but the musicianship and free-range clattering of this freshly-hatched quartet are still mightily impressive. They'd sound phenomenal in a claustrophobic wee club.

Friendly Fires

Friendly Fires arrive hot on the heels of their self-titled debut album, and they match the hype with a sprightly set of punk-funk. Singer Ed Macfarlane is the main source of entertainment: dancing crazily in skin-tight clothes, a maniacal glare in his eyes, firing off plumes of confetti in all directions. Their music is anything but original, but it still injects some firey fun into a damp Connect.

Spiritualized

Spiritualized are one of the most highly anticipated acts of the weekend. We know Jason Pierce's death-cheating tale, and it's extra-special to have him, with full electric band, back on stage. They offer no connection to the audience though, facing each other like a studio band, and the set doesn't nearly delve deep enough into their back catalogue. Just as well the few classics we do hear, like Come Together, are awe-inspiring.

Grinderman

If one band was made for the live setting, that band is Grinderman. On record, Nick Cave's side-project comes across like cod-badass; it's only when confronted with his spitting, lanky, wildly gesticulating frame at close quarters, along with his destructive, bearded side-kick Warren Ellis, that you get it. They run riot, dragging us all along with them on the road to oblivion - and huge fun.

Errors

One band on the Your Sound Bandstand I am determined to see is Errors. The touted Glaswegians combine esoteric electro with crunchy post rock, and they play a blinding second-top billing set on Saturday night, to a sizeable segment of Scotland's music-loving fraternity. Salut France and Toes are great, but, as was the case at their Triptych gig, it's Mr Milk that stands out.

Young Knives

Young Knives are a head-scratching lot. One minute you're enthralled by the wacky Britpop revivalism of Terra Firma, the next you're tuning out, put off by the very same-ness of their guitar-bass-drums formula. They do their best to cheer the sodden Sunday early-comers with some witty asides, but it's impossible to really let yourself forget the conditions with such ironic fare.

Santogold

If anyone can dispel the rainclouds - or help us forget them at least - it's Santi White, the effervescent urban diva behind Santogold. Although a delayed arrival means they only play half a dozen songs, White, in a shiny blue jumpsuit, gets the plastic ponchos in the crowd moving with Lights Out, You'll Find A Way and The Creator.

Elbow

It is more a lack of options than any fanboy enthusiasm that draws me to the Oyster Stage for Elbow, and this flat set of sleepy indie only embeds my prejudice. The bluesy single Grounds For Divorce does redeem matters slightly, but their uninspiring attempts at emotive, lighters-in-the-air 'moments' fail utterly in this early evening slot.

The Gutter Twins

In the general hubbub of Connect, it's easy to overlook two of modern American rock's true greats. With little fanfare, The Gutter Twins, fronted by Mark Lanegan and Greg Dulli, take to the stage before a sparse crowd. But instant respect is granted to the ever-morose Lanegan, who growls through the songs on autopilot, backed by the loudest, heaviest band of the weekend.

Sigur Rós

The dusk mist hanging in the pine forest on the hill behind the Oyster Stage provides the ideal backdrop in which to enjoy the mystical splendour of Sigur Rós. They open with the sublime Sven-G-Englar, and even reveal a sense of humour when a brass section marches on stage in See You Jimmy hats. The rest of their extensive set is rarely less than spellbinding, and they even trash their drumkit on exiting.

Franz Ferdinand

During their only festival appearance of the summer, Franz Ferdinand play a set that acts as a reminder of their sophisto-pop appeal and reveals the musical direction in which they're headed. Hits like Michael, Do You Want To and Take Me Out rev up the masses, but another half-dozen new songs get an airing, the majority of which boast a fuller, synth-ier and funkier sound than we've been accustomed to.

Siempre me pareció un poco triste decir que algo está "de moda", pero bueno, si tiene que estarlo, está y punto. Pues bueno, siguiendo en esta líneaindie, la canción que más se pudo escuchar el verano pasado fue la de Young folks de Peter, Björn & John con su pegadizo silbido y hace un par de años, en el 2006, Franz Ferdinand arrasó con su Take me out.

¿Cuál ha sido la de este verano?

Desde aquí propongo un par de canciones que para mí son las claras candidatas a ganar este concurso:

La primera de ellas es Time to pretend, del psicodélico dúo neoyorkino MGMT. El grupo se basa en ritmos pegadizos y repetitivos hasta la saciedad y con canciones como esta o como Kids se han convertido en uno de los grupos revelación del año.

La segunda canción es de los ingleses Ting Tings y se llama That's not my name. Igual de pegadiza o más que la anterior, That's not my name habla de una pobre chica de cuyo nombre nunca se acuerdan sus pretendientes... Grupo a seguir, sobre todo las canciones Great DJ y Shut up and let me go, muy recomendables.

Y bien, ¿Cuál os parece la canción indie del verano? Se aceptan sugerencias...

MGMT - Time to pretend

[audio=" http://www.goear.com/files/sst4/b3bbfba2ee303040df9fa0198fd83d87.mp3"]

The Ting Tings - That's not my name

[audio=" http://www.goear.com/files/sst4/d0758dfceb31d6c68096a054a4e27dda.mp3"]

]]> http://hotgeneration.wordpress.com/?p=626 Fri, 05 Sep 2008 08:43:21 +0000 hot-generation http://hotgeneration.wordpress.com/?p=626

Metronomy's music is something I plan to get out there, it's currently one of my personal favourites. Just to remove all confusion (like Muscles), there is ONE guy behind Metronomy called Joseph Mount, though he is joined by Gabriel Stebbing and Oscar Cash in his live shows to help him out. His music is absolutely awesome, it's currently my most played music on my iPod.

Of course he also does many remixes! So far here's the list:
Architecture in Helsinki, Infadels, Magnet, Dead Disco, Roots Manuva, Franz Ferdinand, Temposhark, Sébastien Tellier, Klaxons, Box Codax, Max Sedgley, The Young Knives, Ladytron, Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly, Kate Nash, DNTEL, Good Shoes and Gorillaz.

His first album "Pip Paine (Pay the £5000 You Owe)" was released in 2006 and his newest album "Nights Out" sounds even better! From what I've heard and read, the light shows & their synchronised dancing when they play live are quite amazing.

The songs are quite the alternative sound so if you do like music such as The Knife or Hot Chip, be sure to download this song and give it a listen.

Here's a song from their newest album Nights Out- due to be released on the 8th of September!
A Thing For Me- Metronomy
It doesn't take long to download so just do it!

Links:
Metronomy MySpace
Metronomy Official Site

Escúchalo en Podomatic y descarga todos los episodios anteriores en MyBloop.com

I won a competition to cover it for their website. They never told me what or when or where or how to write. I got confused. I still went though, even if it did rain. Here are my thoughts.

Friday

That four hour journey from Edinburgh to the Duke of Argyll's abode at Inverary Castle may be a pretty one, full of stunning views of the much heralded Scottish countryside, but by Vanessa Feltz's beard is it a knackering. Stepping off one of City Link's more questionable coaches, my legs weren't quite feeling their finest, and the trek to the camp-site on the entire other side of the venue over grass that had just seen the very worst of August's abysmal weather was not looking very manageable. Nevertheless, me and and my old Nikes (found in a cupboard only two weeks before) marched (well, stumbled) on through the worsening mud to pitch up tent as far away from the toilets as possible.

The inevitable exploration of the Duke's grounds followed. The castle looked nice, complete with a drawbridge and everything (I've always wanted a house with a drawbridge, mainly to keep out the Nazis), but the army of fluorescent security surrounded it proved a suitable off-put to any want to find a way inside. I can only imagine it being full of Ikea's finest, and far too many house-plants.

The grounds were suitably large for such a grand home. And by this early stage, there was still thankfully some grass to stand on. Of the stalls and vans offering various over-priced, over-fried items, the most appetising seemed to be a Caribbean barbecue – a practice I imagine must have happened thousands of times on the grounds of landed gentry over the years. A whisky tent proved a welcome distraction too, with the sort of relaxed atmosphere you only get from a mixture of old men, alcohol and canvas. A room behind a mysterious curtain proved fruitless though.

In keeping with the festival's aim to be the most eco-friendly, carbon neutral, hippy happy in the country, various environmental gubbins was to be marvelled on every corner. Bicycle powered showers proved unfathomably popular for those with the foresight to bring a towel, and the more diligent (tight?) festival goers took full of advantage of the 10p plastic cup return by hoarding up all those tossed on the ground. Free ponchos were a fantastic idea too, and I shall cherish what remains of mine for the rest of my life.

As for the music of the day, it all started with Glasgow's French Wives in the sofa-filled Speak Easy tent. They may look like your typical annoyingly contrived twee nonsense, but they turned out to be a refreshingly talented group of youngsters adept at a folk pop sounds that embrace violin and trombone. Big futures all over the place for that lot.

Talking of annoyingly contrived twee nonsense though, the next stop was the second stage on which Noah and the Whale were trying to create some sunshine in the mist. As artificially constructed as their entire look and sound is to appeal to your typical teenage Boosh loving fools, they do have one or two decent pop tunes in their set, even if the chorus of 15-year-old screams for Five Years Time is hideous to hear.

Next was a trip to the media tent to indulge in the privileges of free Red Bull and tea in relative warmth before running off to see Guillemots. I have seen Fyfe and co twice before, once at T in the Park where they were just fabulous in all their brasstastic, red suited glory. Oh, the disappointment of such a set at Connect though. Maybe the beginnings of rain were getting everyone down, but this was just so tedious. With no trumpet or sax to compliment the traditional band set-up, it left for a very plain, uninspired perfomance that relied too much on forced passion from Fyfe's coda shoutings.

With only Amy MacDonald to compete with, it was no decision really to go see legendary 90s indie alternative hero, Stephen Malkmus, as he brought The Jicks to the second stage. And they were brilliant. Malkmus could entertain any music lover with a respect for intricate riffs and tortuously constructed songs so obvious in their brilliance in his sleep. No greater guitarist was heard all weekend.

The Manics were on the main stage next, and sounded quite good from the camp-site where I was indulging in disgusting wine and Strongbow. The realisation I was far too old for this was also sinking in.

After the liquid break, it was time to pick a headliner. Kasabian on the main stage were always a no-go, so it was between disco legends, Sparks, and high-voiced epic indie darlings, Mercury Rev. The latter were agreed upon, and what a good decision it turned out to be. For some reason, I haven't listened to the incredible Deserter's Songs in a good few years, but hearing Holes and Goddess on a Highway with such passionate playing and spectacular lighting effects only brought to mind just how fantastic and powerful an album it is. Easily the highlight of the weekend, and one of the greatest festival experience I've ever had.

A good way to end the night would have been there. Messy drunkenness was had in the Optimo tent however, as pounding dance filled my ears and mud filled my shoes. I found my tent though.

Saturday

Late of the Pier lived up to one third of their name and took their sweet time to get onto the main stage. Perturbed by this, with tardiness probably my greatest bug bear (apart from maybe bug bears themselves – horribly ugly things with wings and hair and Jeff Goldblum references), I ventured to see what I could find elsewhere. And I found something wonderful.

Hearing sweet violins on the breeze, I thought I recognised a tune. I followed the beautiful noise and came across seven men sharing a stage. It was Broken Records! Huzzah I though, for this was an unexpected surprise. Edinburgh's most joyous orchestral folk punks were billed as headlining the tiny Your Sounds stage later that evening, but no mention was made of them appearing at such an early time though. Luck was on my side though, and they stormed through a brilliant set of songs unrivalled in modern music. Well done them.

Just as good form was to follow, with Conor Oberst forsaking the Bright Eyes moniker for a show with his Mystic Valley Band on the main stage. The calls for First Day of My Life were annoying, but there was no need for such classics when this group of hugely talented musicians had a collection of songs as good as any heard all day. Young Oberst did seem quite off on something though, with some rather worrying ramblings throughout, and something of a mullet about his hair-do.

The Speak Easy tent followed for more Red Bull freeness (seriously amazing), before watching the Grace Emilys who were very dull and I can't be bothered writing about. If only they felt the same about every song they've ever created.

Similarly dull was Zoey Van Goey on the Your Sound stage, whose guitarist I have been informed is a 'wally'. This seems reasonable.

Who next but the latest big news from Scotland? Well, you could have gone for Spiritualised, but most seemed interested in Glasvegas on the second stage. Worryingly, the backlash has already began, and there are numerous fuckwits bemoaning the quality of their work and their media hype, but the truth is, they are just a great band with some great songs. Geraldine and Daddy's Gone are particularly emphatic in getting that message across, with rousing sing-alongs that perk up everyone listening. They may have lost their early rock 'n' roll touch, but the epic dissonance they've brought to their sound is a worthy replacement that will see them play bigger stages and bigger crowds. I did have my poncho ripped in half though, so it wasn't all good.

Nick Cave's Grinderman on the main stage appeared promising enough, but this was a deathly dull set with no momentum with broken mandolins and unconvincing stage performances.

The problem of momentum wasn't a question when it came to Gomez though. Celebrating ten years since the release of their début album, the Mercury winning Bring It On, the boys played it in full from start to finish showing just what a well-thought out running order can do to a set. From the havoc of Whippin' Picadilly to the gorgeous Tijuana Lady this was amazingly orchestrated experiment that worked perfectly. What a good album that really is.

And to headline? The Gossip are long gone, so it was a reluctant trip to Bloc Party for me. Having never rated their music particularly highly, and been bored stiff at the brief glimpse I caught of their set at one T in the Park, I was not expecting much. I'm glad when I'm wrong sometimes though. This was an awesome spectacle, and a true show that incorporated a supremely tight rhythm section with fiery guitars, an affection for a rain-soaked crowd and a decadent light and laser show that lit up the castle beautifully. A kilted Kele was on ecstatic form throughout, and their versatility astounded, with simple indie, pounding dance and powerful, building epics breaking up a set that kept your attention throughout. By far the best surprise of the weekend.

The Unknown Pleasures tent was putting on a Club Noir show from midnight. I went, I saw tassels, I enjoyed myself immensely.

Sunday

The last day, and by far the hardest to get through. The rain lashing on the tent woke me up early, and I had to dig out a baby wipe to wash away the tears. Baby wipes are the one essential I recommend for a camping experience. Wonderful things.

By now the mud was ridiculous and an actual river had formed across the middle of the arena, making any hasty crossings from one stage to another impossible, Certainly without wellies. Oh, how I should have brought wellies. It was going to be a long, long day.

Well, I thought it was going to be, until geek rockers, Young Knives, came onto the main stage. And fantastic they were too. Previously unimpressed with their live performances, they quickly broke all pre-conceptions with comments as sympathetic to the soaked crowd as they were witty. They weren't good enough to brighten the skies, but at least they got the day off to a smiling start.

Iglu and Hartly continued the defiantly optimistic atmosphere, with bright tank-tops, pony-tails and mullets making them as visually distinctive as their wonderful mixture of intense rapping and boyband power pop choruses. In the City is the Keep on Moving of our time, and these Hollywood heroes were a master-class in how to keep spirits up no matter how dampened they may be.

A master-class in contrived acoustic singer-songwriter tedium was up next with Alan McKim in the Speak Easy tent. With such inspired song titles as I Miss You and Living in the City and various other laments of love and its troubles, it's not hard to imagine McKim's failings. It's all the more horrible when the songs just get too much for him, and he reverts to a shout that sees spittle flying everywhere. This wouldn't be so bad if it didn't happen in EVERY SINGLE SONG COMPLETELY DEMEAMING ANY EMOTION THAT COULD BE GAINED FROM SUCH AN ACT YOU POINTLESS SHIT YOU! Just look at him, he's a twat.

I was surprised to see Frightened Rabbit enjoying the show though, presuming that they had taste considering the excellence of their own work. And their little acoustic set that followed was an exhibition in restrained emotion and intelligent song writing that McKim could learn a lot from. There was even a little homage to The Twilight Sad thrown in too.

Elbow came and went in a rather uninspiring fashion on the main stage. I expected much, but perhaps due to most of the crowd being there for One Day Like This only and talking the whole way though Newborn it wasn't the rapturous entertainment I imagined.

Goldfrapp were rubbish. I would have seen The Gutter Twins but I couldn't be bothered working my way over the river to their stage.

Sunset was approaching, and there was only one band with music exquisite enough to match such a picturesque image. Sigur Ros let no-one down either. With a touch of Flaming Lips imagination about their set, brass bands in uniforms, and very large drums all contributed to an overwhelming wall of sound that wiped all feelings of the pouring rain from audience minds. And what a great way to end the festival that would have been. Unfortunately, it was only to be sullied by the headliners.

Franz Ferdinand have been on a bit of a live break in Britain for a while, and this should have been a spectacular, no-holds barred comeback of epic proportions to delight a home crowd who hold their songs so dear. Instead, this was so by numbers children could have performed it, with the usually invigorating Do You Want To turned into a mournful dirge, and Michael and Matinee falling flat. They didn't care they were here, and they didn't care just what the crowd had gone through all weekend leading up to them. This was a nothing show not even worthy of a pub gig, and burst that beautiful bubble of wonder so dramatically blown up by Sigur Ros before them. Balls to you Alex Kapranos. Balls to you.

I then went back to my tent and mourned a band that has a lot to make up for.

]]> http://lagramoladeberto.wordpress.com/2008/09/03/nuevo-single-franz-ferdinand/ Wed, 03 Sep 2008 21:08:06 +0000 bertoindie http://lagramoladeberto.wordpress.com/2008/09/03/nuevo-single-franz-ferdinand/ ¡Por fin! Después de más de 3 años la banda escocesa Franz Ferdinand vuelve con "Lucid Dreams", el single del que será su 3er disco, que ha sido descrito como "dirty pop".

Según se ha podido leer por ahí el líder del grupo Alex Kapranos dice que aun quedan algunos retoques para lo nuevo y que lo más seguro que salga a la venta a principios del 2009.

Se puede escuchar en su myspace

Now, if you don’t appear on Saturday I’m gonna hunt you down. And don’t you dare try excuses.

Yes, really foolish on my party to try again after that fall. But I’ll get back up and do it again and again.

I just want it. Much.

Go baby, go.

Goodbye girl boy, because I'm lonely.
Goodbye girl boy, it isn't over.
Goodbye girl boy, you know you want me.
Goodbye girl boy, yes I'm a loser.
Goodbye girl boy, you know it's only love.

I'm cheating on you, yeah,
I'm thinking of you, yeah,
You're cheating on me.

Goodbye girl boy, you are the only one.
Goodbye girl boy, I know you want me.
Goodbye girl boy, you are the only love.
Goodbye girl boy, now if you're lonely.
Goodbye girl boy, why don't you join me?

I need a shower,
~Vanny

Ps: this post was pretty much a compilation of diverse music I was listening to.

The idea of "growing up" is a strange and subjective one. When I was a child I thought that to be "grown up" meant to be completely serious all the time; in other words growing up meant being boring. Now I am legally past the age of offical entry into adulthood by a small number of years I'm not so sure about that. I have my responsibilities and they'll only increase the older I get but damnit I want to keep having fun with the one and only life handed to me.

Yet I know there are people around my own age who have fallen into the seriousness trap and sometimes I feel judged as being "childish" over certain indulgences. The main source of this paranoia is the subject of this article: Franz Ferdinand.

Those of you expecting me to have an enthusiastic adoration for the figure whose assasination sparked the outbreak of World War I will be disappointed to learn that I don't like studying any history that happened after 1750. I've studied it, I've even enjoyed it, but I don't particularly like it.

While it would have been funny to try and lead any readers to believe I was going to talk about the Archduke, I realise I'm not good at telling jokes. I am of course talking about that pop group from Glasgow.

What's wrong with liking music? Indeed, what's wrong with liking a band? Well, nothingreally. I like a lot of music. I love going to gigs and I have a tower of CDs taking over one corner of my bedroom BUT...my love for Franz Ferdinand goes beyond just the music. I don't want to call it "obsession" because that has negative connotations of the stalking kind. However, I will confess that few things can make me feel like I'm stuck in giddy-eighteen-year-old mode and Franz Ferdinand happen to be one of those things.

Don't worry, they're perfectly safe. I know the very defined boundries between reality and fantasy so before anyone reads any further I would ask them to leave any misconceptions of female music fans at the door. Some of us do like music, in spite of what you may have heard or think you know.

However, I will also admit that I happen to think Alex Kapranos is a very attractive man. I can just see the rolling of eyes and the accusations that I'm being a hypocrite now! I'm used to it. I've spent the past four and a half years defending myself over that issue. Now I just can't be bothered anymore. Why would I waste a significant amount of my money on CDs, gig tickets and travel to those gigs if I didn't care about the band as a whole?

When it comes to bands, their music is obviously the thing that gets you hooked. Sometimes you get this sudden urge to find out everything you can about the band whose music has just touched you. This has only really happened to me twice. The first time it was a different band around 1999/2000. We had only just got the Internet in my household and I spent quite a few nights typing the band's name into search engines and reading information from fansites and interviews. I don't remember the information being as rich as it would be now but it was quite overwhelming.

Trying to find out every piece of avaliable information about a band can take up quite a bit of time so it's no wonder I wasn't in a hurry to do that again. It even got to the point where I had a pile of magazines about half my height that I had only bought for the band interviews. It's funny how this entire routine repeated when Franz Ferdinand came into my life...

That was 2004. Though they'd actually brushed past my life (rather than collided with it) in late 2003. I was really into MTV2 at the time and I have vague images of seeing the Darts of Pleasure video a couple of times because I remember thinking it was weird. I was also in my "rebel against a popular music magazine" phase so maybe that's why they passed me by a little.

Even so, on 1st November 2003 I agreed to accompany my friend to a gig in Sheffield that featured Franz on the bill. My friend was street teaming for the Fiery Furnaces and Hot Hot Heat were the main act. We didn't do much street teaming. We didn't do much anything. I was being a typical eighteen-year-old in that I was being a pain in the arse all night.

It was at a foreign music festival in 2004 when I finally accepted that I loved this band. I don't want to recall every gig I've been to, that would be a boring read. Long story short, I've seen Franz Ferdinand ten times to date. It could've been more and if you think that's bad then you will be probably frightened to know that the total for the other band I mentioned earlier currently stands at twenty-six. That however is over a longer period.

I don't know why I like to see bands multiple times. Sometimes it's more or less the same if you're seeing them within the same tour or year but over those ten gigs the setlists do vary, as do the experiences. I just feel that they're a live experience worth repeating. It's only the same as going to watch a football team every week really, though I personally watch a Rugby League team but that's another article. My point is, you're watching the same bunch of guys doing the same thing but in either case little things change over the course of a few gigs or matches. Putting a more negative spin on it; imagine a world where your favourite band split up or your football team becomes extinct. On that day, you'll be grateful you saw them as many times as you did.

So yes, Franz Ferdinand are one of the small handful of bands I would see multiple times. I am not ashamed of it because it makes me happy. Some of the most enjoyable experiences of my youth have been their gigs - it's an overused idea but they really do define a certain era in my life and I'm sure many others in their fanbase feel the same.

Sometimes a band means so much to you that you want to complete the live gig experience by meeting them. I very rarely approach strangers in my day to day life so believe me when I say that I have never been the kind of person to hang around at stage doors or turn up at book signings just to briefly rub shoulders with someone who is known to the public. This shyness went out of the window when it came to Franz Ferdinand.

Yet I know that I did what I feared; I've made a fool out of myself in front of various band members several times.

They're such an approachable band. It just becomes too easy to talk yourself into saying hello. I'm sure like everyone they have days where they hate the world and the people in it but in my experience they'd never let it be known to their fans. For all I know, they could've been having the worst day ever but they hid it well. Or maybe I'm just in denial. I doubt it's that, I just think that they're able to separate their public and private lives and they do seem to have a genuine appreciation for their fans. I admire them. I don't know how I'd cope having to answer the same stupid questions every single day while a queue of (mostly female) fans shove marker pens and ticket stubs under my nose.

I don't look down on those activities. I've had things signed and I've had two embarrassingly bad pictures taken with Alex. I keep getting told that I look fine in those photos really, but I'm not so sure! Deep down, I'm just glad I have pictures to prove it.

It's a funny thing talking to people you admire for such a short time. They meet so many people every day so the chances that they'll remember you are quite slim. I'm ok with this. It means I get to be a new person every time and I don't have to worry about some stupid thing I said in October 2004 when I first met Alex and Bob (Hardy). They definitely won't remember. In fact, I've met Alex, Bob and Paul a varying number of times (guess who I've met the most!) and I can sleep soundly knowing that no matter what verbal rubbish sprang from my mouth, they'll have forgotten it by next week.

The last time I met Alex was the perfect example of "verbal rubbish" and I had the obligatory 48 hours afterwards going over it in my head and calling myself an idiot. My best friend assured me otherwise and I happen to agree with her but at the time I twisted my mind in knots with worry. It after a gig on their small venues tour and there was loud music playing over the speakers so if you wanted to have a conversation with anyone you had to shout into their ear. There was also a massive queue of people surrounding the poor guy before he even got beyond the stage area. I felt terrible but I'd had a couple of drinks and other people kept cutting in front of me so in a moment of sheer rudeness I tapped Alex on the shoulder and stole him away from the girls who were about to do the same thing.

My moment of sheer rudeness was then followed by a moment of sheer panic. What do I say? What do I DO? It sounds incredibly silly but I don't want my favourite band to think I'm a boring sod so I got nervous. Then I did what I always do when I get nervous. I engaged my mouth before my brain and I'm sure I came across as someone who is extremely rude.

Is it crazy of me to say that all this mental anguish was actually worth it?

It's strange that I have these events that I can remember in vivid detail, that mean a lot to me whereas for the band it was a moment that was as common as breathing. As I said, I don't mind. They don't owe me anything - especially not a place in their memories.

But they're in my memories and that's all that matters. I even get to share some of their band-related memories through interviews, articles and anything they happen to post on their website. I will never be in a position where I can have the sort of life they have and I should be jealous but nothing could be further from the truth. I am so emotionally invested in this band that I think they deserve their success more than most. In a strange way, I get to travel the world through them. Whenever I read about their time in a place I will never visit it's almost like I'm there in spirit.

They're probably better with me being there in spirit. If for some reason I slipped into a fantasy world where I get to tour with them I'd give me one week before I miss my own bed. Actually, it'd probably be less than that. Anyway, I know that everyone who has ever aspired to be in a band sees touring as this glamorous, amazing time and ok, it probably is a glamorous amazing time, but I know from talking to bands and reading their thoughts on the matter that there is a lot of waiting around. Truth be told I'm not sure I could hack it but if any of my friends in bands find fame...I'd be willing to give it a try!

I know I am trying to paint a picture of a model fan who never gets stroppy over issues relating to this band but I'll confess that sometimes I have entitlement rants. I know I'm not entitled but I do it anyway because I don't mean it and it's just a knee-jerk reaction that a lot of fans have, particularly in the case of "why aren't they touring near me!?" - I know you all do it!

As I have said, the band don't owe me anything but I still complained when they used fans as extras for one of the videos and the shoot was in New York. I got over it but I did plenty of feet stamping and whining along the lines of "why can't they do a UK fan video?" Then there was the small Scottish tour last year with one New York date. Predictably my response was this: "if you can go to New York, why not England?!" - this is in spite of them doing several low-key London gigs over the years. You can imagine how guilty I felt when they announced a small venues English tour this year that included neither Scotland nor New York. I do hope they didn't see my whining somewhere...

Franz Ferdinand do not rule my life to a point where I cant function without them but I'd be lying if I denied that they have a big part to play in my love of music and life in general.

If that's childish then I no longer care. The day I stop buying their records, going to their gigs (until they call it a day) and fantasing about being in one of their music videos is the day that I officially become boring.

Next Fanatic: Rugby League - a life long obsession.

If you have read Ai Yazawa’s manga Gokinjo Monogatari and you happen to love it, then probably you would also enjoy the semi-sequel of this work – Paradise Kiss. Paradise Kiss, or ParaKiss, is an original 5-volume manga written by Yazawa, and has been adapted into a 12-episode anime produced by Aniplex and Studio Madhouse. I’ve seen the anime in Animax, who broadcast the series and widely distributed it and it was so amazing.

The protagonist of the story is Yukari Hayazaka, also nicknamed Caroline, a highschool student who is already bored with her life driven by routines, thus, when she meets the Parakiss crew, she models for them and decides to stop her review for the university entrance examinations. She matures little by little through her relationship with George Koizumi, a chic and handsome university student, and a fashion designer. George designs Yukari’s outfit when she models for them, or for anybody else. Along with the Parakiss crew are Miwako Sakarada a cute and childlike university student who fondly calls Yukari ‘Caroline’ a lot and Arashi Nagase, the punk, rock and hardcore guy who is a band member and Miwako’s girlfriend. The mother figure of the Parakiss crew is none other than Daisuke “Isabella” Yamamoto, but she is actually a crossdresser.

But one character that I will not forget in this anime is Hiroyuki Tokumori, Yukari’s classmate – a handsome, appealing, silent and intelligent young man, who always looks out for Yukari and concern for her studies. In the first part of the anime, Hiroyuki is the object of Yukari’s affection, but her emotions shifts to George when she meets him. I like Hiroyuki because his character reminds me of my highschool crush (and I still like that guy) – both are intelligent in the first place. *giggles

Oh yeah, too much for digressions.

Not to forget the theme songs of the anime – Lonely in Gorgeous performed by Tommy February6 is the opening theme, and Do You Want To by Franz Ferdinand is the ending theme.

If you really love fashion, you’ll fall in love with this anime. J

So if you're lonely,
You know i'm here waiting for you,
I'm just a crosshair,
I'm just a shot away from you
And if you leave here
You leave me broken shattered alive
I'm just a crosshair
I'm just a shot..then we can die

Ooohahhhhh

I know I wont be leaving here with you

I say don't you know
You say you don't know
I say... take me out
I say you don't show
Don't move time is slow
I say... take me out

I say you don't know
You say you don't go
I say... take me out

I know I wont be leaving here (with you)
I know I wont be leaving here
I know I wont be leaving here (with you)
I know I wont be leaving here with you

I say don't you know
You say you don't know
I say... take me out
If I move this could die
Eyes move this can die
C'mon...take me out

I know I wont be leaving here (with you)
I know I wont be leaving here
I know I wont be leaving here (with you)
I know I wont be leaving here with you

Its a cool little animation that accompanies the track - but the 'record' hiss is meant to deter people from pirating the tune. The hiss is kinda cool - but in this day and age of digital restoration and electronical wizardry, its kinda more annoying than cool. Not unlike the song. Its good - but not great.

It will be popular on radio stations like Triple J - but I cant see it having nearly the same impact that tunes like Take Me Out did. Then again - could anything they do on a follow up album reach those lofty heights? Me thinks not.

Also - The Cure have released another track from their impending 13th album, '4:13 Dream'. The album will be a two-disk effort and Robbie Smith and the boys have been releasing tracks (via their Myspace) on the 13th of each month since May, until the album comes out on October 13. I'd post a pic of the new cover - but it's all white, save for the title (well the top half of it) in black down the bottom. It would look like i stuffed up posting the pic - so rather than look (more) like a tool, I'll let you find it yourself.

The album was due out September 13, but the Robmeister has instead decided to bring out an EP of the released songs' remixes, called Hypnogogic States. The six track opus will feature such prominent maestros such as Pete Wentz and Jared Leto. Old-School emo meets Nu-Skool emo methinks! Not eactly a good combo. But then again - I could be (and probably am) wrong.

Cowbell makes me cry.

Grandes melodías. Un poco de punk, un poco de retro, un poco de Franz Ferdinand, otro de The Smiths y algo raro: un sonido como de español, de idioma español. Tres hermanos, dos de ellos gemelos. Otra vez una buena banda desde UK, en este caso son de Yorkshire. El vocalista/guitarrista Ryan Jarman, el bajista Gary, y el baterista Ross. Parece que vienen tocando desde que los gemelos tenian nueve y el baterista cinco, pero desde luego que tienen algo para mostrar no hace mucho.
Comenzaron grabando sus primeros singles con un tal Bobby Conn de Beat Happening and Bobby Conn, una banda indie amaricana, quien los invitó a su estudio de Chicago a grabar, ya que le había gustado mucho la banda.  Recién en 2003 firman para Wichita Records y en 2004 editan su primer albúm autotitulado "The Cribs".  Lanzaron su segundo albúm "The new fellas" en el 2005 y su tercer albúm en el 2007 "Men's Needs, Women's Needs, Whatever" bajo la producción de Alex Kapranos de Franz Ferdinand.

Por estos días la gran novedad es la incorporación a  la banda, como miembro estable, de Johnny Marr, ex guitarrista de The Smiths, de The The, de Electronic y hasta muy poco de Modest Mouse. Por estos días dieron shows con mucha repercusión en los festivales de Leeds y Reading el 22 y 24 de agosto respectivamente. Van a estar en Mexico a partir del 18 de septiembre y siguen de gira por EEUU.

1) Kasabian - Club Foot

Melodia decisa ed un rock originale...è ciò che mi viene da dire ascoltando questa canzone dei Kasabian. Il gruppo britannico diverso tempo fa ha attirato l'attenzione delle mie orecchie grazie proprio a questo pezzo...un brano che non esiterei a definire ben riuscito e molto apprezzabile. Non c'è niente da fare, l'indie rock mi prende assai!

2) Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out

Rimaniamo tra atmosfere rockeggianti e parliamo dei Franz Ferdinand. Questo è il singolo che li ha spinti sotto i riflettori, in molti lo conosceranno ma se qualcuno ha un vuoto di memoria ecco che arriva fresca fresca la segnalazione del pollo. Che altro dire?...riff efficace, sound inglese ed un cambio di tempo spettacolare, questa è "Take Me Out".

3) Strokes - Reptila

Partendo da un basso potente e rigoroso per poi sciogliersi tra riff chitarristici ed assoli incrociati, la voce quasi rauca che accompagna le note e la velocità nel ritmo. "Reptila" è senz'altro uno dei pezzi che preferisco degli Strokes...bella da ascoltare e bella da vedere, vi consiglio vivamente di guardare il videoclip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ott_t53xWZY.

Buon ascolto.

Ps. 不要說我家狗兒胖（殘酷的事實，請責怪我家人），我已經替他準備好了完善的減重計劃。

當然，房內最值錢的物品仍然是我心愛的BRMC簽名電吉他。緊緊追在後頭的應該就是Felt在1984年出的法版十吋黑膠My Face is On Fire了。（它躲在Godfather DVD Collection左邊）

I've been keeping an eye on video footage of my personal Lowlands favourites popping up on the net over the last few days. Here's a selection, but be sure to check out 3voor12's Lowlands page for more footage and obviously anything tagged "lowands 2008" on youtube.

Hot Chip - Ready For The Floor (audiostream)

Blood Red Shoes - Doesn't Matter Much/ interview segment/ I Wish I Was Someone Better (video)

Does It Offend You, Yeah? - We Are Rockstars (short clip to show the mayhem)

Santogold - L.E.S. Artistes (video)
Clik here for an audiostream of the full concert 

Roisin Murphy - Overpowered (video)

Franz Ferdinand - Come On Home (video)
And another short clip to demonstrate the insanity during This Fire

Los Campesinos! - Death To Los Campesinos! & Knee Deep At ATP (3voor12 session at Lowlands)

Laura Marling - Blackberry Stone, Ghosts That Broke My Heart, Cross Your Fingers, Rambling Man (3voor12 sessie at Lowlands)

Sadly I couldn't find any footage of Get Well Soon or anything halfway decent on other favourites Does It Offend You, Yeah?, Lykke Li and Black Kids.

And here's some of the stuff I wish I could have seen (sadly no good clips of The Roots and Late Of The Pier):

Underworld - Born Slippy (looks/ sounds amazing! hang on for the massive balloons at around 4:25)
(check the higher quality tv-registration here, but the ones filmed by visitors better capture the atmosphere I think)

N*E*R*D - Rockstar

Elbow - One Day like This

The Hives - Tick Tick Boom

We Are Scientists - The Great Escape

Editors - Smokers Outside Hospital Doors

And Finally, The Ting Tings - That's Not My Name (because it was sort of our annoying yet amusing festival anthem, thanks to friend MB...)

SO I just sat there with some songs playing in my eardrums.

My AWKWARD holiday playlist:

Cars and Telephones - Arcade Fire

Concrete Bed - Nada Surf

The Ice Is Getting Thinner - Death Cab For Cutie

Polaris - Jimmy eat World

Lucid Dreams - Franz Ferdinand

The Bleeding Heart Show - The New Pornographers

In The New Year - The Walkmen

Pulling Our Weight - The Radio Dept.

That's what it's like listening to you people talk -- I vicariously "hear" you as a pleasant, (but most definitely foreign), cyborg with little more than an elementary grasp of English.

It sucks.  If you really were a robot, I'd point your plasma-rifle arm at your central nervous core and blow away all your lame, over-teched and under-human circuitry.  Take a note from 2XL: no one likes a dumb robot.

Anyway, where was I?  ("ne way, were wuz i?")  Yes, last week I went to the Franz Ferdinand show at our own Target Center here in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  Would you like to hear the story kiddies?  Grab your cookies and gather round Grandpa.  No, I don't want any of your gingerbread -- I hate that shit.

The concert-going party was to consist of four persons: <name removed>, <name removed>, <name removed>, and myself.  Well, <name>, (my best known friend of the four), had class and was going to miss the opening bands.  <Name> decided she wasn't going to go until <name> got off from class.  Thus I find myself sitting alone with <name>'s other friend <name> an hour before the show in semi-awkward "second time we've met" conversation.

We decide to head into the city early and have a drink.  Driving, parking, skyway-ing, and to the bar.  I find that <name> is a pretty spunky girl, and can keep a conversation going, for which I am thankful.

Note: I am a noob-douche when it comes to ordering drinks.  Truth be told, I know about 5 drinks in total, none of which I find particularly drinkable, and which I have in constant rotation when I go out so I don't become the "guy who always orders a screwdriver."  On this occasion, "Eric's Drink Spinner" was pointing to the cartoon of a steroid-ridden heifer caught in a blender, labeled "Vodka/Redbull".  This 'beverage' is an interesting combination of flowery textures with an oaky bouquet and an aftertaste slightly reminiscent of Polish Bull Urine.

This I drink, and none too slowly.  <Name> has a Vodka/Tonic, whose clear biting taste I imagine as being distilled from the liquefied and boiled bodies of the Pure Norwegian Jellyfish, if ever such a creature existed.  (I find that giving drinks mystical origins in my mind makes them a little more fun to choke down.)

Theorem: Two drinks will be consumed, if one drink was consumed and if and only if conversation is even mildly pleasant.

So it was.  Two drinks were drunk in their time.  Well, ok, I'll be honest -- the time for those drinks had perhaps not yet come, they were indeed prematurely drank (drunk?), and soon we were well on our way to Funkytown, <name> leading the way having missed her evening luncheon entirely.

Theorem: Three and four drinks will be consumed in one hour if and only if it seems like a good idea to do so at the time.

Well, you don't even have to wonder why it did, but it did.  It was then time to go to the show.  Begin "should we go" conversation:

Eric: "What time is it?"
<Name>: "Uhh, heh... um.  8:20."
Eric: "Well I think Franz goes on at 8:30.  You ready?"
<Name>: "I want to bowl."
Eric: "Yeah that does sound like fun, doesn't it?"
<Name>: "Let's do it.  I can't believe you made me drink Tequila, you bastard."

<Name>'s playing the blame game now, and now we're getting shoes, and now we're making a joke about the cash register, and now I'm thinking that the guy probably thinks we're drunk, and now I'm thinking "To hell with what you think, sir!", and now we're tying laces and now we're tossing balls and now the balls are going all sideways and crossways, and now we're rolling on 43s and laughing about it, and now we're laughing more and walking to the show, and now we're wondering where the hell Franz has gotten themselves to and where the hell we are and how the hell we get from point A to point Franz.

We walk into the smallish auditorium, (a side theater to the main Coliseum-esque Target Center), and into the even more smallish grouping of people around the stage.  The lights dim for us as we enter.

"Jacqueline was seventeen, working on a desk..."  This is it, the moment I've been waiting for.  Soon Franz is rocking out, telling me that things are always better on holiday, and I agree.  I show that I concur wholeheartedly by jumping up and down and pumping my fist in the air.

In retrospect I'm pretty sure I was the only one doing so.

After a few more songs, the crowd was getting into it.  Franz was letting us have it -- the guitars were thudding and twanging energetically, and I insisted we press and squeeze our way forward as best we could.

Quote: "As long as you aren't gonna puke, it's worth it."

The rest is mostly a haze of jumping, screaming, dancing, and pushing our way up into the crowd.  Finally, during a sexually-charged rendition of "Darts of Pleasure," <name> and I were able to jam ourselves right up in front of the stage.  Oh my god, you can see his sticky stubble.

Things in the pit began to reach a fever pitch.  When Kapranos ad-libbed "I'm sexy, you're all sexy" during "Michael" I thought an insane orgy of Roman proportions was immanent.  At the apex, Alex broke a string and Bob threw his pick into the crowd, who all dived face first to get it.  I was sure someone was going to get a pecker in the eye.  However, like an eight year old with A.D.D., they gave up looking after three seconds, allowing me to bend over and scoop it from the cement -- carefully avoiding any exposed knobs on the way down.

Thus, with my self-respect only slightly tarnished and still buzzed enough to crash a wedding, the lights went up and I left the pit.  We met <name> and <name> on the way out, explained ourselves, and headed out back to meet the band.  (I being still too sauced to drive of course.)

Bob and Paul came out some time later.  Lacking my CD booklet, (which I idiotically left at home), I had them sign my entry bracelet.  Paul was a little sauced himself, and signed my wrist instead.

Overall, I give the night four thumbs up.  Wait -- I mean two thumbs up, sorry.  Anyone have some coffee?

This is the last of my Franz posts.  I swear.

"You have mail on the counter" says Xine.  I venture upstairs to receive it.  There is a bill, a title, and ... a letter?

Not just any sort of letter either. A hand-written letter.  Such a thing is a momentous occasion in anybody's life these days, what with the underground coup executed masterfully by the Emailiens in the early '90s.  No one trades these archaic bits of paper around anymore.  So imagine my shock when I found myself holding such an object from one "Anna Vokkerenburg" from Shoreview (Name changed.  Slightly.)

I was about to "tear 'er open n' get 'er done" when I thought again: "Anna Vokkerenburg"?  Who the hell was that?

I really couldn't think who this could be.  An old stalker whose hopes I had crushed long ago?  A friend of an old stalker whose hopes I had crushed long ago?  A dying child asking me to send her 1,000 paper cranes?  A good old fashioned chain letter or pyramid scheme?

Eventually bemusement got the best of me.  I let 'er rip.  And I read:

Well, Eric ... uh, & friends:

"Sounds like a MySpacer."

Here you are.  Bet you thought we wouldn't send them, didn't you?  Anyway, they took a long time coming out.

I realized what this was.  At the Franz show, despite our ardent waiting, <name>, <name>, <name> and I had to leave before getting autographs from frontman Alex and guitarist Nick, as <name> and <name> had class in the morning.  We passed off our autographed bits to a couple of sluttish younglings waiting next to us, gave them our address and asked them to mail us the completely signed bits of paper. And doing so with what we regarded as completely indefatigable College-age authority, we left the freshman to do our dirty work. (HAZED!)

Hence, this letter: (cont'd)

Anyway, they took a long time coming out.  Nick came 1st & he was awfuly nice & signed everyone's everything.  he was quite talkative & people had actual conversations w/him.... yeah, pretty sweet... & then we had to wait for a REALLY LONG time till Alex came out. that semi-thing in there was already packed & leaving when he finally teetered out. he sort of apologized for coming out so late & kind of giggled @ everything else ... right, both were drunk as hell, but it was cute almost, they're sweet-mellow drunks. Right, anyway, hope you enjoy your, oh, BRACELET OF POWER & .... SHEET OF PAPER!!!

Right,
Anna
[the blonde girl w/ the hat]
[though I'm sure the other girls say hi]

Endearing, isn't it?

And yes, in my state I did refer to it as the Bracelet of Power.
Because like we said: "Absolute power rocks... what is it class?  Yes.  Absolutely."*

-E

*The writer acknowledges that in no way is aforeto mentioned bracelet in any way connected with the possession, gathering, or exercising of said power.

]]> http://axeley.wordpress.com/?p=433 Thu, 21 Aug 2008 17:45:15 +0000 Axeley http://axeley.wordpress.com/?p=433

Je suis rentrée mais je pense qu'il me faudra pas mal de temps pour digérer toutes ces nouvelles données de la blogosphere, d'ici quelque jour vous aurez de quoi mâchouiller (je dis ça mais à coup sur ce soir vous l'aurez ce foutu article!)

ps : La grece, c'est excellent(si quelqu'un s'interessait à mes vacances^^)

I haven't listened to it just yet but thought I'd post up a link on youtube for all you die hard fans.

It's also possible to listen to the song on their website: http://www.franzferdinand.co.uk/lucid-dreams/index.html. The artwork while playing the song on the site is awesome.  Proper Rustic ;)