Smog: Little girl shoes

 

Bill Callahan: secando la soledad.

   Esos zapatos están muertos de risa. Abandonados en uno de tus muchos armarios. Pensaste que tus tacones te harían más alta, pero la altura, eso es para las montañas.

Javier Mateos

READ:

Your little girl shoes
I was attracted to your
Little girl shoes
I was distracted by your
Little girl ways

And that little boy hat
Did you have to wear that
In combination with those
Little girl shoes

Dismantled in the lab
Your shoe is cold leather
Your foot is beastly calloused
Closer to cloven (yeah)

But... Paw plus shoe
Equals i don't know what to do
And does the girl imitate the woman
Or the woman imitate the girl

PLAY:

LNZNDRF

LNZNDRF: el trío calavera.

    A veces hay que decir cosas que no son 'políticamente' correctas, pero estamos ante un disco de culto antes de que haya sido editado o, 'peor' aún, haya pasado el tiempo. Lo que sí tenemos muy claro es que es uno de los discos del año. Turbador, apasionado, oscuro y embaucador. Al escuchar el disco de LNZNDRF parece como si ya lo hubiésemos escuchado (también vivido) antes. No lo dejes pasar, o sí, porque podrás recuperarlo cuando quieras, es la gran ventaja de enfrentarse ante algo planificadamente atemporal.


Javier Mateos

PLAY:

Shearwater: Backchannels

Shearwater: el último poeta.

Cuando todos pensábamos que la Poesía había muerto, llegaron tus versos.

                      

      Javier Mateos

READ:

Oh, when you whistle down the wind
When you needle the dark with your mind
When you're firing volleys of words in an arc
When you're snuffing out all that's still alive

And a droplet falls
From the dropper's eye
Blooms like a wave
That slowly overruns all of your days
And slips the caul
From off your eyes
You face alone
A fear that's dragging us all in its wake

And you kill the lights

I know
You're in the river now
And you yield to the water's embrace
And you lie like a stone on the banks, giving out
As it carries off all of our names

I know that sound
I know what it likes
I know it feels
Like all the guns of a battery trained
Right at your eyes

Because it's real
Because it pulls
A thread of slowly unraveling days
Annihilates
Your mother tongue
Your only light

But hold this sound
Follow it all the way

And put down the knife

The night is here
But still is spinning out stars in its wake
And that stubborn light
Pools in your heart
Warm and nacreous, baby
The milk of sighs
And dreams

PLAY: