Saturday, 27 November 2010

Tuesday, 23 November 2010

everlasting light

Continuing with the same compass of the last post this is a private and non official studio sound clip, but it is very good and funny. We can see also this good live recording @ NY.

Saturday, 20 November 2010

I'm not

popíssimo!
Have a great weekend :-)

Monday, 15 November 2010

Emily Wells

I posted this on my Facebook once but thought I'd post on here as well. This was taped at a radio station in Salt Lake City, she is amazing!!

Thursday, 11 November 2010

Wednesday, 10 November 2010

The Avett Brothers

I have a weakness for country/folk music that doesn't sound as polished and contrived as a lot of more mainstream country sounds (in my humble opinion of course!)...the Avett brothers are one of my favorites, some of their songs are super twangy and some sound a bit more rock-country, but they all have great lyrics. So I'm posting a few different examples, hope that's ok! I'm interested to hear what you think, I've had a few friends say they don't like them at all. Way twangy but the lyrics make me smile: So romantic!:

Friday, 5 November 2010

Monday, 1 November 2010

the day all the wolves howled

Martine, parisian, is a journalist and she was my friend since the early 80's. She admired our musical taste and the quality of our radio. We often went with some friends to a disco-bar called "Jamaica". That place was mostly frequented by students of Fine Arts and Architecture. The music there, was played by the master of all guilty of such good taste. I remember Martine having so much fun jumping in a foolish way with Nina Hagen's sounds and others...
Well, the man behind all this permanent discovery of new good sounds, with an amazing art of showcasing, was António Sérgio.
One year ago, November 1, I was on my way to Azeitão, when I heard on the radio AS was gone. I stood in trance. The one who had taught us everything about new music and vanguard music and how to love it would do it no more. The fact is that one year after no one was able to take his place. He stood at Basílica da Estrela for the last reunion of family and friends. Wolves, as I call them because he called himself "the wolf" due to the hours of his programs late at night. So only when I came back home at 3 o'clock in the morning, I could try to approach him but all doors were closed. The funny thing is that I knew he was there beyond that wall with the lighted window next to me and I heard a friend of nights and wolves, an owl hooting in the garden in front. And then an enormous plane passed painted in hot colours coming from Angola. The artist below was deeply admired by himself. He, who intruduced him to us so many times. The choice is his. The anger is mine.

Halloween was in the house