lunes, 18 de junio de 2007

LGramoladetodovamal

Qué raro es descubrir lo bueno cuando hurgas entre la basura de todo lo malo, sobre todo en los desperdicios del pasado.

Ayer hice funcionar un cd con 7 años de antiguedad para volver a escuchar la que fue durante el segundo peor verano de mi historia, la canción que ponía música y palabras a 5 meses de mierda.
Me mierda, de basura.

Los soportes digitales son igual de endebles que los nuevos recuerdos. Personalmente, desde que tengo ordenador considero que la información "ordenada" es cada vez más difusa y volátil. Y encima, caduca y se pierde...

Leer libros, si es que los libros no mienten, me ha relativizado la neura. Porque creo recordar algo acerca de los prejuicios y supersticiones con los que nació la escritura en los tiempos de la tradición oral.

Tradición oral que sigue pa´lante, no hay más que darse cuenta de que una canción puede contener un mundo y caber en 0,10 % de soporte perecedero.

...........

You're probably right, seen from your side, that I've been lucky
but I've been meaning to crack all week.
Yes I've been involved, it never resolved into anything shocking.
Pains playing yoyo in my body as we speak.

And now I found something to look for, but I can't decide,
'Cause I might find that to stroll behind is better than to score.
Just like I did before.

It wouldn't be true, not towards you, to say that I'm staying.
When on every single impulse, on every other move I react.
'Cause in any old creek, with changing technique, you'll see me playing.
After any old motherfucking blow I'll be back.

We turned away from instant stuff
our cracking codes were breaking up
our words were sucked out it made them clean.
And after lowness say it
and after more let it be known
Our codes are grown into something mean.

You're probably right, as for tonight, you're making me nervous.
What is it you want me to be thinking of?
I'll put on a movie, I'll play something groovy as a matter of service
And I'll chuckle when you smile as a matter of love.
'Cause you know it's not my style to be giving up now.
And this pain in my side, I had enough.

This time I go for Instant Street
This life's a soulless excuse for all abuse and parenthesis.
The flyspecked windows and the stinking lobbies
they'll remain all the same, all the same.

This time I go. This time I go...