Today’s earworms come complete with feel-good feel-bad social awareness messages.
Watch the following if you concede to mass torture of feeling, perhaps sentient, creatures for your palatal pleasure. Yes, Moby’s promoting veganism, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
Watch the following if you – wait, what I was going to write was that you should watch it if you use the Internet or own a smartphone, but if you’re here reading this, yeah, that includes you any way you cut it. It’s you, it’s me, it’s our lives now, and it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.
I can’t figure out why this isn’t included in neither the official CIV VI OST or the 25th anniversary album CIV VI DLC, but it isn’t.
It’s Christopher Tin’s official cover of “Volare, oh oh, cantare, oh oh oh oh” with lyrics by Leonardo da Vinci.
Some more Tin:The Drop That Contained the Sea (contains a link to Calling All Dawns as well). Just listen to this music and tell me it doesn’t make you feel happy to be alive)
EDIT: Oh crap, we’ve got a burrower here. I’ve played close to 7 hours of CIV IV in 72 hours, but I’m quite sure that my total playtime of Sogno di Volare is not far behind.
Pink Floyd’s A Saucerful of Secrets, and especially Celestial Voices (the part that starts after 07:00), as it was recorded live by the original band itself, is nowhere to be found on Youtube anymore; their corporate representatives seem to be taking good care of wiping clean all traces of humanity from their facade. They made sure that a wordless hymn to the sequence of birth, each person’s battle in life, death and the lamentation that such a thing as death even exists, was something to be excluded from the band’s catalogue online. All that is available now is cover versions, plenty of them, some not so bad, but most not even close to this one live recording from 1969 that bests them all.
Even the entire albumUmmagummais there on their official channel, apart from a single song: that one 12-minute track which has been made conspicuously unavailable.
I can’t fathom what the reasons for keeping this masterpiece from the general public in terms of profit could be, but one thing is for certain: it does stand out.
The recording isn’t from Pompeii, where this picture is from, but I imagine every time he’d sing this song and Celestial Voices live there would come some gust of wind out of nowhere and blow his hair around as part of the show.
En Lefko earworm numero dos. I find it difficult to believe that there is a song that out-happies “Don’t Worry Be Happy” (which, once again, is not by Bob Marley. Milkas, a musician I met in the army, mentioned once that what Bobby McFerin can do with his voice is out of this world, and I’ve been curious about him since then).
This one was a Life in Technicolor II-level earworm that had infested my mind for absolute months. Couldn’t find it anywhere and looking for “Amy Winehouse-sounding voice” or “black-sounding voice”, or downloading Adele’s discography didn’t take me very far.
How I solved the problem? I took the situation apart and thought that, if anywhere, I would have probably heard the song on En Lefko, one of the best radio stations in Athens and the only one I keep having on while driving important military people around. I found the collection they published with the songs they allegedly popularised in Greece. I found Kovacs and Diggin’ and the rest was easy. After I found it, I could clearly remember listening to it once while running sometime in Summer 2015. That’s when, you know, Greece was apparently ready to collapse. Honestly, I’m gonna have to dedicate another couple of posts to the songs that became my earworms thanks to En Lefko.
Sweet relief. This woman is jaw-dropping, and I’m not just talking about her voice.
This book is quite remarkable. For more than half of it it gives off very few clues on what it’s all about, what these weird kids were doing cordoned off in a special school somewhere in a remote corner of an apparently alt-universe England. You go through their lives through Kathy’s -the protagonist’s- memories, which are incomplete, the possibility always hanging that her memory’s playing tricks on her. She says so herself. And if we don’t grow fond of the characters per se, it’s because there’s something terrible about them being left unsaid, politely ignored. It is something that makes people surrounding them, their “guardians” in that odd sub-space Hogwarts, cry when these children inadvertently show emotion and, say, sing and dance to Judy Bridgewater’s Never Let Me Go I’ve added above – a song that doesn’t strictly exist in our timeline, mind you. I’ll let you unfurl its story on your own.
The whole style of the book was reminiscent of Murakami. Is it a Japanese thing or is my mind playing tricks on me pigeonholing Ishiguro precisely on the basis that both authors are Japanese? But wait a second: more-or-less short and simple sentences, matter-of-fact, every-day situations, relationship- and memory-focused narrative… maybe it’s not just me.
Anyway. Once the secret of the book is revealed, just as matter-of-factly as anything else the characters might be talking about, the genius of Never Let Me Go is truly made clear; I can’t recall ever reading a story with less hand-holding on its central premise, such slow exposition and thus such complete suspension of disbelief. So I’m left here thinking that Its story is precisely what would happen if what’s true in the book was true in real life. And as a wanna-be writer of a similar kind of fiction, I can think of no praise more sincere.
Ένα μέρος χυμώδες, δυό μέρη γλυκόπικρο, κι άλλο ένα γαμάτο γενικά και αόριστα.
Το πρωτοάκουσα στο Poplie Web Radio, το οποίο το βρήκα απ’ το Goodreads και τον inverted_a με τον οποίο είμαστε φίλοι εκεί αν και δεν γνωριζόμαστε IRL ούτε έχουμε μιλήσει ποτέ στ’ αλήθεια. Σίγουρα δεν υποπτεύεται καν ότι εξαιτίας του γνώρισα αυτόν τον εξαιρετικό ραδιοφωνικό σταθμό.
Ερωτικά τραγούδια έχουν γραφτεί πολλά, σχετικά λίγα όμως μιλάνε για τη συνεύρεση αυτή καθαυτή και ειδικά τόσο ποιητικά, όπου το υπονοούμενο γίνεται περήφανα έκδηλο.
Κι αυτή η Nalyssa Green η ίδια έχει κάτι το απόκοσμα και adorably awkward σαγηνευτικό που το κάνει όλο ακόμα πιο ακαταμάχητο.
Να διαλυθούμε ο ένας μες στου άλλου τον ιδρώτα. Σύγκρουση ταχύτητας φωτός το σώμα μου στο σώμα σου. Και να μη μείνει κάτι στέρεο, να γίνουμε υγρά.
Κοκτέιλ να σε κάνω με παγάκια. Κοκτέιλ να σε κάνω με παγάκια. Θα σε πιώ, με δύο καλαμάκια. Θα σε πιώ, με δύο καλαμάκια.
Τσιμέντο, άσφαλτος, μπετό. Γυμνό το πέλμα ψάχνει πάτωμα. Γκάζια, πετρέλαια, φασαρίες κι αυτά τα δέντρα που μυρίζουνε τη γεύση σου. Ζαλίζομαι, ζαλίζομαι. Θέλω να βγάλω ό,τι μέσα έξω. Να τα δει το φως της νύχτας, τα σκοτάδια της κοιλιάς μου, και ως άδεια να μου επιτραπέι να σε έχω μέσα μου.
Κοκτέιλ να σε κάνω με παγάκια. Κοκτέιλ να σε κάνω με παγάκια. Θα σε πιώ, με δύο καλαμάκια. Θα σε πιώ, με δύο καλαμάκια.
