azar o seu, querida*

“Não precisei explicar nada pro porteiro. Bastou um toque na maçaneta pra perceber que a porta estava aberta. Me sinto nostalgicamente bem aqui. Como se voltasse a um lugar ao qual já pertenci. É uma sensação estranha e acolhedora. Não é a minha casa. Nunca foi. Mas é como se fosse. Não importa se o trabalho, e não a saudade, foi quem me trouxe pelo braço. Já prevejo o aperto no peito e a furtiva lagrima no táxi na hora de ir embora. Não importa quem me trouxe pelo braço. Voltei, Recife.(…)”

To Boddah

Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee. This note should be pretty easy to understand.

All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true. I haven’t felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guity beyond words about these things.

For example when we’re back stage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowds begins., it doesn’t affect me the way in which it did for Freddie Mercury, who seemed to love, relish in the the love and adoration from the crowd which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can’t fool you, any one of you. It simply isn’t fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I’m having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I’ve tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do,God, believe me I do, but it’s not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. It must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they’re gone. I’m too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasms I once had as a child.

On our last 3 tours, I’ve had a much better appreciation for all the people I’ve known personally, and as fans of our music, but I still can’t get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There’s good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little, sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don’t you just enjoy it? I don’t know!

I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what i used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point to where I can barely function. I can’t stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I’ve become.

I have it good, very good, and I’m grateful, but since the age of seven, I’ve become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess.

Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I’m too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out than to fade away.

Peace, love, empathy.
Kurt Cobain

Frances and Courtney, I’ll be at your alter.
Please keep going Courtney, for Frances.
For her life, which will be so much happier without me.

I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!

[Kurt D. Cobain, Aberdeen, 20 de Fevereiro de 1967/Seattle, 5 de Abril de 1994]

#openhouse/@pedrojansen

[convite: juliana alves/foto: dan weaver]

Just a Fest|SP|22.03:09
Abertura dos portões: 16h
DJ: 17h
Los Hermanos: 18h
Kraftwerk: 20h
Radiohead: 21h30

Porque todo mundo sabe que eu não sou uma pessoa de carnaval. Mas o meu amor por Recife é maior que isso. E no fim das contas, tem coisa mais fofa que uma marchinha, hein? Hein?

_top cinco melhores músicas do carnaval

5. alceu valença: voltei recife.
Uma semana antes da viagem já estava cantando essa música. Desci do avião, na companhia de Reginaldo Rossi cantando essa música. Pulei horrores no melhor show das prévias dançando essa música. Não vejo a hora de cantar, em Recife, de novo, essa música.

4. orquestra contemporânea de olinda : canto da sereia
A melhor música da Orquestra Contemporânea de Olinda, que fez o segundo melhor show do Carnaval.

3. eddie: é de fazer chorar
Essa eu continuo cantando. Nunca pensei que fosse dizer isso, mas…ó quarta-feira ingrata…

2. hino do elefante de olinda
A música mais tocada do carnaval; em todos os blocos, todos os shows, nos carros, nos ônibus, nas voltas pra casa e em todas as ladeiras. Na hora enjoa, mas depois, no táxi, indo pro aeroporto, faz brotar uma lagriminha de saudade. Ai, ai.

1. keane: spiralling
Eu sei, não é uma música de carnaval. Mas e daí, não é mesmo minha gente?

_top cinco melhores momentos.

5. Usar havaianas. Todos os dias. Todas as horas. Todos os lugares. Liberdade; não deforma nem solta as tiras.
4. Banho de chuva ao som de Eugene Hutz no Rec Beat. O show nem foi essas coisas, mas dançar Start Wearing Purple debaixo de chuva, foi.
3. Festa de despedida; as melhores histórias com as melhores companhias.
2. Dez minutos no paraíso, na melhor volta pra casa de todos os carnavais.
1. Saída do bloco Maracatu Nação Pernambuco. A coisa mais bonita da vida. E tenho dito e pronto.

[and, god, i love it]

>> os gambitos.

Rio Tavares, Copa do Mundo, Volta ao Morro Via Carvoeira Saída Sul na rótula da Ufsc, cobertores, Petiscão, pintura de apartamentos, Sr. Nachos, conhaque, frutas de nome esquisito, festinha no Blues, aquela padaria do lado da locadora.
[Os Gambitos: Myspace]

>> bowerbird.

The male crestless bowerbird is completely drab. His plumage is indistinguishable from the female’s. His bower has therefore grown more elaborate to take the place of colorful feathers. He gathers insect skeletons, shells, seeds and charcoal, and arranges them in neat piles in his bower. While bobbing about to attract the female, he holds a colorful object, usually a flower, in his bill.
[Bowebird: Myspace]

>> deerhunter.

“To achieve harmony in bad taste is the height of elegance.” – Jean Genet
[Deerhunter: Myspace]