Vida Fodona #643: À moda antiga

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Esse não é mais ao vivo.

Led Zeppelin – “Dancing Days”
Kassin + 2 – “Bow Road”
Trupe Chá de Boldo – “Jovem​-​Tirano​-​Príncipe​-​Besta”
Spoon – “Don’t You Evah”
Supercordas – “Ruradélica”
The Band – “This Wheel’s On Fire”
Ava Rocha – “Mar ao Fundo”
Brockhampton – “Sugar”
Saskia – “27 Sabiás fala Brasilês”
Luiza Lian – “Sou Yabá”
Pedro Pastoriz – “Fricção”
Maglore – “Me Deixa Legal”
Red Hot Chili Peppers – “Mellowship Slinky in B Major”
Kiko Dinucci – “Desmonto sua cabeça”
Specials – “Nite Klub”
The Comet is Coming + Kate Tempest – “Blood Of The Past”

 

Os 75 melhores discos de 2019: 46) Kate Tempest – The Book Of Traps and Lessons

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“This is how it begins and this is how it will end”

Vida Fodona #615: O último programa de 2019

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Raspando o tacho do ano.

Tulipa Ruiz + João Donato + Edgar – “Manjericão”
Fountains D.C. – “Big”
Tame Impala – “Patience”
Georgia – “About Work The Dancefloor”
Chromatics – “You’re No Good”
Ariana Grande – “NASA”
Stephen Malkmus – “Forget Your Place”
Caroline Polachek – “So Hot Youre Hurting My Feelings”
Clairo – “Bags”
Caribou – “You and I”
James Blake + Rosalía – “Barefoot In The Park”
Luiza Brina + César Lacerda – “De Cara”
MGMT – “In the Afternoon”
Yumi Zouma – “Right Track / Wrong Man”
Brockhampton – “Sugar”
Lil Nas X + Billy Ray Cyrus – “Old Town Road”
Sharon Van Etten – “Seventeen”
Luedji Luna + Attooxxa + Omulu – “Tô Te Querendo”
Charli XCX + Christine and the Queens – “Gone”
Mura Masa + Slowthai – “Deal Wiv It”
Lizzo – Juice
Francisco El Hombre – “Chão Teto Parede (Pegando Fogo)”
Dua Lipa – “Don’t Start Now”
Little Simz – “Boss”
Nill – “Mulher do Futuro Só Compra Online”
Michael Kiwanuka – “Hero”
The Comet is Coming + Kate Tempest – “Blood Of The Past”
Nomade Orquestra + Juçara Marçal – “Poeta Penso”

Os 75 Melhores Discos de 2016 – 15) Kate Tempest – Let Them Eat Chaos

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Europe is lost.

Quatro vezes Kate Tempest

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Já acompanhava a carreira de Kate Tempest, mas do ponto de vista dos discos, tanto que elenquei seu Everybody Down como um dos meus discos favoritos de 2014. Mas seu trabalho vai muito além da música – ela é poeta, dramaturga e escritora, tem o completo domínio da palavra, seja escrita ou falada. Pude acompanhá-a de perto durante sua primeira vinda ao Brasil, primeiro durante a Flip, em que trabalhei pela terceira vez consecutiva cuidando das mídias sociais do evento. Lá pude vê-la em três momentos: o primeiro deles no sarau de abertura da festa literária, quando ela recitou seu épico “Brand New Ancients”, após ser apresentada pela mestra de cerimônias Roberta Estrela D’Alva:


Kate Tempest – “Brand New Ancients”

Depois foi quando ela participou da mesa O Palco é a Página, ao lado do poeta carioca Ramon Nunes Mello (que segurou bem a onda do lado dela, uma grata surpresa). Lá, Kate recitou, de cabeça, o início de seu romance, lançado no Brasil com o título de Os Tijolos nas Paredes das Casas, lançado pela editora Leya:


Kate Tempest – “The Bricks That Built the Houses (introduction)”

E depois emendou seu incrível poema “Hold Your Own”, que batiza uma coletânea de suas poesias mas nunca foi publicado:


Kate Tempest – “Hold Your Own”

A terceira vez foi durante a mesa de encerramento da Flip, Livro de Cabeceira, em que ela leu um trecho do romance Murphy, do irlandês Samuel Beckett. Peguei pela metade, como vocês podem ver:


Kate Tempest lê Murphy, de Samuel Beckett

Encontrei com ela duas outras vezes, uma em Paraty, à noite, entre uma festa e outra, mas preferi deixá-la à vontade. E depois no restaurante Bica do Curió, em Taubaté, quando não resisti ao papparazzismo para registrar o encontro improvável dela e do norueguês Karl Ove Knausgård no restaurante de beira de estrada mais Wes Anderson que conheço:

Knausgård e Tempest na Bica do Curió

Uma foto publicada por Alexandre Matias (@trabalhosujo) em

Tive que comentar sobre a inusitada foto quando a encontrei pessoalmente pela primeira vez, na quarta vez que pude vê-la ao vivo, quando fiz conversei com ela na livraria Saraiva do Shopping Pátio Paulista, durante o lançamento do seu livro em São Paulo. Na conversa, ela recitou outras duas vezes. Na primeira delas, ela recitou um poema sem nome, que fez em homenagem à importância do hip hop para sua descoberta como artista:


Kate Tempest – “Hip Hop”

E mais uma vez ela recitou o início de seu romance, que é tão envolvente e cativante quanto suas performances, vale muito à pena ler:


Kate Tempest – “The Bricks That Built the Houses (introduction)”

Dali ela ia pra Bahia, fugir das pessoas, depois de quatro meses incessantes de turnê. Já tinha composto seu próximo disco, que iria lançar logo depois das férias e lamentou não ter vindo ao Brasil fazer shows devido à pressa, mas amou o país e disse que quer voltar. Vale à pena acompanhá-la.

Com a Kate Tempest

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Converso nessa segunda-feira com um dos grandes destaques desta edição da Flip 2016, a jovem rapper, poeta, romancista e dramaturga inglesa Kate Tempest, em uma das atrações do pós-Flip. O encontro acontece na Livraria Saraiva do Shopping Paulista, às 19h, em São Paulo, e é só chegar. Mais informações no aqui. Sente o drama:

Essa foto incrível aí em cima é do compadre Walter Craveiro.

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A ascensão do fascismo britânico

Alan Moore tinha razão:

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“Europe is lost, America lost, London lost”, canta Kate Tempest, “still we are clamouring victory”. Se alguém quiser traduzir a letra, posta nos comentários que eu republico aqui.

Europe is lost, America lost, London lost
Still we are clamouring victory
All that is meaningless rules
We have learned nothing from history

People are dead in their lifetimes
Dazed in the shine of the streets
But look how the traffic’s still moving
The system’s too slick to stop working
Business is good. And there’s bands every night in the pubs
And there’s two for one drinks in the clubs

And we scrubbed up well
We washed off the work and the stress
Now all we want’s some excess
Better yet; A night to remember that we’ll soon forget

All of the blood that was bled for these cities to grow
All of the bodies that fell
The roots that were dug from the earth
So these games could be played
I see it tonight in the stains on my hands

The buildings are screaming
I can’t ask for help though, nobody knows me
Hostile, worried, lonely
We move in our packs and these are the rights we were born to
Working and working so we can be all that we want
Then dancing the drudgery off
But even the drugs have got boring
Well, sex is still good when you get it

To sleep, to dream, to keep the dream in reach
To each a dream
Don’t weep, don’t scream
Just keep it in
Keep sleeping in
What am I gonna do to wake up?

I feel the cost of it pushing my body
Like I push my hands into pockets
And softly I walk and I see it, this is all we deserve
The wrongs of our past have resurfaced
Despite all we did to vanquish the traces
My very language is tainted
With all that we stole to replace it with this
I am quiet
Feeling the onset of riot
Riots are tiny though
Systems are huge
The traffic keeps moving, proving there’s nothing to do

It’s big business baby and its smile is hideous
Top down violence, a structural viciousness
Your kids are doped up on medical sedatives
But don’t worry bout that, man. Worry bout terrorists

The water levels rising! The water levels rising!
The animals, the elephants, the polarbears are dying!
Stop crying. Start buying
But what about the oil spill?
Shh. No one likes a party pooping spoil sport

Massacres massacres massacres/new shoes
Ghettoised children murdered in broad daylight by those employed to protect them
Live porn streamed to your pre-teen’s bedrooms
Glass ceiling, no headroom
Half a generation live beneath the breadline

Oh but it’s happy hour on the high street
Friday night at last lads, my treat!
All went fine till that kid got glassed in the last bar
Place went nuts, you can ask our Lou
It was madness, the road ran red, pure claret
And about them immigrants? I can’t stand them
Mostly, I mind my own business
They’re only coming over here to get rich
It’s a sickness
England! England!
Patriotism!

And you wonder why kids want to die for religion?

It goes
Work all your life for a pittance
Maybe you’ll make it to manager
Pray for a raise
Cross the beige days off on your beach babe calendar

The anarchists are desperate for something to smash
Scandalous pictures of fashionable rappers in glamorous magazines
Who’s dating who?
Politico cash in an envelope
Caught sniffing lines off a prostitutes prosthetic tits
And it’s back to the house of lords with slapped wrists
They abduct kids and fuck the heads of dead pigs
But him in a hoodie with a couple of spliffs –
Jail him, he’s the criminal
Jail him, he’s the criminal

It’s the BoredOfItAll generation
The product of product placement and manipulation
Shoot em up, brutal, duty of care
Come on, new shoes
Beautiful hair

Bullshit saccharine ballads
And selfies
And selfies
And selfies
And here’s me outside the palace of ME!

Construct a self and psychosis
And meanwhile the people are dead in their droves
But nobody noticed
Well some of them noticed
You could tell by the emoji they posted

Sleep like a gloved hand covers our eyes
The lights are so nice and bright and lets dream
But some of us are stuck like stones in a slipstream
What am I gonna do wake up?

We are lost
We are lost
We are lost
And still nothing
Will stop
Nothing pauses

We have ambitions and friendships and courtships to think of
Divorces to drink off the thought of

The money
The money
The oil

The planet is shaking and spoiled
Life is a plaything
A garment to soil
The toil the toil
I can’t see an ending at all
Only the end

How is this something to cherish?
When the tribesmen are dead in their deserts
To make room for alien structures
Develop
Develop

And kill what you find if it threatens you
No trace of love in the hunt for the bigger buck
Here in the land where nobody gives a fuck

É um dia sombrio não só para a Inglaterra e para a Europa, mas para todo o planeta.

Os 75 Melhores Discos de 2014 41) Kate Tempest – Everybody Down

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Vida Fodona #473: Acertando a filigrana

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Um Vida Fodona feito na madruga.

She & Him – “God Only Knows”
Jonny Greenwood – “Spooks”
Dr. Dog – “Heart It Races”
Modest Mouse – “Lampshades On Fire”
Scissor Sisters – “Laura”
Thiago Pethit – “1992”
Little Boots – “Heroine”
Bryan Ferry – “Don’t Stop The Dance (Idjut Boys Dub)”
AlunaGeorge – “Supernatural (Pomo Remix)”
Talking Heads – “Psycho Killer (Drop Out Orchestra Remix)”
Les Sins – “Bother (Morgan Geist Remix)”
Kate Tempest – “Marshall Law”
Of Montreal – “Bassem Sabry”
Supercordas – “Sobre o Amor e Pedras”
Gilberto Gil + Jorge Ben + Sérgio Mendes – “Emoriô”

Vem cá.

Kate Tempest 2014: “Everywhere is monsters”

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O legal de fazer listas de melhores do ano é descobrir artistas que estão completamente fora do seu radar – como é o caso da impressionante Kate Tempest, inglesa rapper e poetisa, inspirada igualmente por Virginia Woolf e Wu-Tang Clan e cujo disco Everybody Down foi indicado para o prêmio Mercury de melhor disco do ano em seu país. Saca só a história dessa “Marshall Law”.

Colei a letra que pesquei lá no Genius pra facilitar. Leia enquanto ouve – é de tirar o fôlego.

Everywhere is monsters
Tits out, wet-mouthed, heads back
Shouting and screaming just to prove they exist

Becky’s at the bar with the usual mix
Of decadent fabrics and desolate lighting
Everybody here has got a hyphenated second name
Blowing more breeze
Than the wind at the weather vane

Industry slimeballs, showbiz big-deals
The cool new band with the retro feel
It’s the wrap party for their video
Becky danced in it
The director, Marshall Law
Head to toe in yellow velour
Is holding court about the science of image
While the sycophants giggle and grimace
Becky fidgets, tells herself
‘Must stop being so cynical
Everybody here is a human
Even these pitiful posturing pop stars and idiots.’
She tells herself to look again –
Nothing is hideous

So while Marshall Law is wanking on about his artwork
She smiles at the guy opposite
Bright eyes, dark shirt
He raises his eyebrows in the direction of Marshall
‘My name’s Becky,’ she says
‘What’s yours?’

She was like nothing that he’d seen before
Strong body, soft edges, with something so raw
In the core of her iris
He said his name, ‘Harry’
And never in his life had he felt so happy
They got talking
Free bar. Exhausting decorum
He drank until she was so absorbing
He blanked out the party
The floor spun, he stared at her face and felt sure
Something was happening here

He was kinda nervous
His eyes kept doing circuits of the room
He drank as fast as they could serve him
Then this dude comes over
Sticks out a thick hand
And Harry looks at her
Like he’s just found himself in quicksand
He gives this guy a wrap, they shake hands
Sweaty cash passed between palms
No fuss. Bish bash, yes, bosh
He looked at her guiltily
She waved it off, smiling
‘You a shotter then, right?
I don’t care.’

‘Becky, all I ever wanted was a place of my own.’
His eyes, wide and trusting
He’s staring at her, desperate for something to click
He is opening up. This is it
‘A real classy place, the whole bit
Like a speakeasy, right?
Chandeliers and lights
That shine off of the glasses
No hype, and no arseholes
Instead of rotting our guts out
In shitty old boozers
We can be grown men, listening to music
Real music. Played with heart by real bands
Not just posers looking like they’re
Giving blowjobs to mic stands
And I’ll be in a waistcoat, dead grand
Harry’s Place
Or, at least, that’s the plan.’

She was half listening
Half not listening
Kept getting distracted by the lights flickering
He looks like an outline that needs filling in
He leans in close, starts whispering:

‘The thing is, and it’s weird
I never felt so able
To talk like this to anybody, ever
Recently Becky, I’ve been really feeling the pressure
I can’t tell you how good it is
To get this off my chest.’

Becky’s holding tight to her glass
Good coke, brain fast
She watches his face as he talks
Little bump on her fingertips
Expert. Quick snort
Sucking on a cigarette, feeling vaguely bored

It’s true if you believe it
The world is the world
But it’s all how you see it
One man’s flash of lightning ripping through the air
Is another’s passing glare, hardly there
It’s true if you believe it
The world is the world
But it’s all how you see it
One man’s flash of lightning ripping through the air
Is another’s passing glare, hardly there

‘If I’m being honest, well it is
It’s like a trap
I ain’t trying to be flash
I just need to raise the cash for the dream
I hardly touch it myself
Look, it ain’t that
But once I set myself a task
Well, there ain’t no going back
And I am halfway there
I am, nearly, anyway
The point is
I kinda had to push all of my friends away
I can’t have nobody
Knowing what I’m up to
I keep it very secret but the thing is
I would love to
Just for one day
You know, live like any other guy
I can’t have a girlfriend, you see
‘Cause I don’t like to lie
It’s safer all round
That I just keep my head down
And, yeah, the business is booming
Yeah, the business is really booming
But my family think I work in recruitment
So, I get up every morning
And I put a shirt and suit on
And I get on a train, I go up town
It’s all professional users
I sell in the boardrooms and not the boozers
To, like, CEOs and these modern day Scrooges
Who get their secretaries to bring me coffee
It’s so stupid
Meant to be hard times, right, a recession?
But these guys are buying more than ever, I reckon
And I…

He’s got nice eyes
Shame about his issues, though
The party pushes on, her cynicism’s getting vicious
Show nothing
Keep smiling

She catches the eye of her mates
They’re dancing by the bar
They’re in a state
Nod for ‘save me’
They understand, dance over
Put their arms around her shoulders –
‘Becky, we’re bored, let’s go’
His mouth slows to a stop
He seems to lose his composure
She smiles at him
‘Yeah, was nice getting to know ya.’

No, not like that, don’t leave
Please
Don’t make her go, we’ve just got started

Their teeth are bare, their feet are planted
Their smirking at him like he’s dirt
And now his heart is
Damp with the fury of
Finding and losing
This miracle girl
He feels weak with confusion, like
What had he said?
How long had he talked?
He watches them walk to the doors
His blood roars

In the back of the cab, the girls sit there giggling
The driver lets them smoke out of the window
So they’re shivering
They pass a bottle of wine back and forth
Let it clash against their teeth
The cab moves fast through the streets
‘Who was that guy you was with?’
Becky shakes her head softly
‘Him? I don’t know, probably alright
But I could tell he was one of them “save me” types
And I couldn’t be dealing with that
Not tonight.’