De piscóticos y cacofónicos (Música IV)

No sé por qué me sale escribir tanto de música. Porque no es riesgoso escribir sobre eso, supongo. Porque me gusta, seguro.
Señor director: títulos...

Xiu Xiu, "The Air Force": Otro disco más de vanguardismo indefinible. Algo de slam rock en las voces, eléctronica light, acordes, percusión que parece entrar cuando no tiene que entrar. No es un disco muy violento, sin embargo. Es casi pop. Algo de desesperación, o desesperanza y mucho de onírico.
...Encima me conocen bien:

When you get to be my age The police don't assume That you still like to light things on fire Bearing that in mind I wouldn't trust me either


Jé! Quieren oír algo hot/enfermo/ridículo/dadaísta? El tema "Wig Master" es para ustedes, entonces:

You said "I'll build you a bed of cactus where you could sleep when the night is too sharp." I said "I'll cover you with wax and light your hair like a wick when the night is too cold." You don't think of me as often as I'd like you to, but when you do it's of me looking for you on the ship. The plane I'm waiting on has your face printed on the wings, when it crashes I'll eat the paint off. I'm going to spank your ass so hard you'll hate the wig master, but I'll put two pillows on your dining room chair. You're like a parrot, something that belongs to me and not to you. Loneliness isn't being alone, it's when someone loves you and you don't have it in you to love them back. Look at my hair, it's a dirty little mop crying for you to send it away. All a guy needs is a chance to pull off my clothes and snicker, try harder. If you mail me a toy I'll use it but that's the most I have to offer. "Do you want to see my panties?" is the last thing I'll ever say to you. "I want to finger every teenager I see" is the last thing you'll say to me. Don't make fun of my night out.

Discazo.

Gogol Bordello, "Super Taranta!": El hijo psicótico de los Auténticos Decadentes y Tito&Tarantula (los autores de la inolvidable "Cucarachas Enojadas" de la película "Del crepúsculo al amanecer" con *gasp* Salma Hayek)

Perdón, me fui a limpiar la baba. Tarantella Punk, se podría decir que hacen. Y el nombre de la banda me gustó. Colecciono canciones y grupos por los títulos...eso sí que es tener buen gusto!

Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, "In Glorious Times": Música bien enfermita. SGM son a Mr.Bungle lo que los Danger Four son a los Beatles, ponele. Temas que pasan del trash metal al jazz, de ahí al pop, de ahí a la ópera lírica, de ahí a...m'entiende? (como diría "El Inyenieri")
Mr.Bungle era más irónico...estos son más enfermitos de a de veras. Ahh, no me creés? 'Cuchate esto:

Vah! Suvarn Sur! Scatter brand to the reneweller of the sky, thou who agnitest! Dah! Arcthuris comeing! Be! Verb umprincipiant through the trancitive spaces! Kilt by kelt shell kithagain with kinagain. We elect for thee, Tirtangel. We Durbalanars, theeadjure. A way, the Margan, from our astamite, through dimdom done till light kindling light has led we hopas but hunt me the journeyon, iteritinerant, the kal his course, amid the semitary of Somnionia.

Lo qué?

Team Sleep, "Team Sleep": "Che, qué nombre le podemos poner a nuestro primer disco?" Y bueh...Ojo, discazo. Es Ceratti-Melero pero no tan mascabultos. Un tema y me voy:

"Your Skull Is Red"

Your skull is red
Fingernail red
Your bones are red
And it feels gold

Your lungs are red
Fingernails red
Your clothes are red
And it feels gold

Me gusta, me gusta...