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viernes, agosto 26, 2005

Historias Urbanas

Leyendo el comentario de Alice respecto a las fotos de "momentos robados (II)", en el que decía que le gustaba sentarse en una cafetería a observar a la gente (pequeño placer que comparto con ella), me ha venido a la cabeza Ani DiFranco. Si alguna vez hubo una mujer que supiera contar historias de cafeterias, historias urbanas, historias de personas anonimas, usando palabras sencillas, directas, etc., es ella sin ninguna duda. Bueno, también Suzanne Vega, pero en otro estilo. Dificil elegir un par de canciones, asi que siguiendo con la temática os pongo Little plastic castle y Deep dish. Una pasada. Es interesante fijarse en lo que hacen los otros, imaginarse sus vidas, si seran felices o no, si han tenido alguna aventura amorosa, los secretos que esconden, etc. ¿Enfermo? ¿cotilla?, es pura antropología...

Descargar Little plastic castle
Descargar Deep dish



Little plastic castle

In a coffee shop in a city
Which is every coffee shop in every city
On a day which is every day
I picked up a magazine
Which is every magazine
Read a story, and then forgot it right away
They say goldfish have no memory
I guess their lives are much like mine
And the little plastic castle
Is a surprise every time
And it's hard to say if they're happy
But they don't seem much to mind
From the shape of your shaved head
I recognized your silhouette
As you walked out of the sun and sat down
And the sight of your sleepy smile
Eclipsed all the other people
As they paused to sneer at the two girls
From out of town
I said, look at you this morning
You are, by far, the cutest
But be careful getting coffee
I think these people wanna shoot us
Or maybe there's some kinda local competition here
To see who can be the rudest
People talk
About my image
Like I come in two dimensions
Like lipstick is a sign of my declining mind
Like what I happen to be wearing
The day that someone takes a picture
Is my new statement for all of womankind
I wish they could see us now
In leather bras and rubber shorts
Like some ridiculous new team uniform
For some ridiculous new sport
Quick someone call the girl police
And file a report
In a coffee shop in a city
Which is every coffee shop in every city
On a day which is every day


Deep dish

Cold and drizzly night in Chicago's deep dish
Fluorescent light of the bathroom
Shows my hands as they are
See an eyelash on my cheek
Pick it off and make a wish
And walk back out into the bar
Wind at the windows
Neon lights, the pattered pane
The waitress wields the weight
Of her tray around her palm
The doorman cups his hands
And lights his cigarette again
And the rain marches on
(This is only a possibility in a world of possibilities. There are,
obviously
there are many possibilities, ranging from small to large, before long
there
will be short, before short there was nothing. When there was nothing
there
was always the possibility of something, becoming what it is)
Don't even bother trying
To say something clever
Clever is as clever does
No matter what it says
I'm looking for a sign
Says you're for real this time
But I don't trust what's in your head
I walk up to the bar
And point to the top shelf
And then I throw my head back
And laugh at myself
I raise a toast to all our saviors
Each so badly behaved
It's too bad that their world
Is the one that they saved
(Now you got to dance with me, now is when it's gotta be cuz I can't
wait for
the dance floor to fill in. If you want to dance with me, I'll show
you how
it's gonna be cuz I can't wait for the band to begin)
There's a spider spinning cobwebs
From your elbow to the table
While my eyes ride the crowd
In a secret rodeo
I smile with my mouth
Lift my watch up to the light
Say, oh look I have to go


Os voy a regalar otras dos canciones que me gustan muchos Two Little Girls que habla....bueno, habla de muchas cosas, a mi me dice cosas diferentes segun tenga el día...y Pulse esta canción me rompe, me descompone, me inquieta...

Descargar Two Little Girls
Descargar Pulse



Two Little Girls

you were fresh off the boat
from virginia
i had a year of new york city
under my belt
we met in a dream
we were both nineteen
i remember where we were standing
i remember how it felt
two little girls
growing out of their training bras
this little girl breaks furniture
this little girl breaks laws
two girls together
just a little less alone
this little girl cried wee wee wee
all the way home
you were always half crazy
now look at your baby
you make as much sense
as a nursery rhyme
love is a piano
dropped from a fourth story window
and you were in the wrong place
at the wrong time
and i don't like your girlfriend
i blame her
i never seen one of your lovers
do you so much harm
i loved you first
and you know i would prefer
if she didn't empty her syringes
into your arm
here comes little naked me
padding up to the bathroom door
to find little naked you
slumped on the bathroom floor
with my back against the wall
while you distill your whole life
down to a 911 call
now you bring me your bruises
so i can 'ooh' and 'aah' at the display
maybe i'm supposed to make one of my famous jokes
that makes everything okay
or maybe i'm supposed to be the handsome prince
who rides up and unties your hands
or maybe i'm the furrow-browed friend
who thinks she understands
here comes little naked me
padding up to the bathroom door
to find little naked you
slumped on the bathroom floor
so i guess i'll just stand here
with my back against the wall
while you distill your whole life
down to a 911 call

Pulse

you crawled into my bed that night
like some kind of giant insect
and I found myself spellbound at the sight of you
beautiful and grotesque
and all the rest of that bug stuff
bluffing your way into my mouth
behind my teeth and reaching for my scars
that night we got kicked outta two bars
and laughed our way home
that night you leaned over and threw up into your hair
and I held you there thinking
I would offer you my pulse
if I thought it would be useful
I would give u my breath except
the only problem with death
is that we have some hundred years
and then they build buildings on our only bones
a hundred years
and then your grave is not your own
we lie in out beds, in our graves
unable to save ourselves
from the quaint tragedies we invent
then undo
from the stupid circumstances
we slalom through
I realized that night that the hall light
which seemed so bright when you turned it on
is nothing
compared to the dawn
which is nothing
compared to the light
which seeps from you while you're sleeping
cocoonned in my room
beautiful and grotesque
resting
that night we got kicked out of two bars
and laughed our way home
I thought
I would offer you my pulse
I would give you my breath
x14
Let's hold here.....
keep holding
keep holding
lets just stay here
That's beautiful...

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1 Tus Comentarios:

At 26/8/05 11:28 p. m., Blogger Alice said...

¡Hola!

Me he bajado las canciones y las he escuchado hace poco. Tenías razón en lo de las pequeñas historias, pero creo que lo interpreta desde un cierto distanciamiento que no me acaba de llegar. Será el tono ligero.
Igualmente las volveré a escuchar.

De chicas rockeras me quedo con Liz Phair, con Katy Rose, no sé, de las de ahora, quiero decir. Me gusta lo mainstream y las canciones de ir con la ventanilla bajada del coche cantando, como Hilary Duff ( bueno, aunque en teoría esto es para adolescentes, una amiga me dijo que me gustan algunas cosas que escucha su hermana pequeña. Que halago).

No me alargo más.
Nos leemos.

 

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