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 " Favoritas.Años activo / Years active: 1967-2017 Géneros / Genres: Rock, heartland rock, roots rock and country rock. Temas favoritos / Favourites: - Listen To Her Heart - Here Comes My Girl - The Wild One Forever - Refugee - Scare Easy - I Won't Back Down - Gloria (Fillmore 1997) - I Need To Know - Room At The Top - I Forgive It All - The Last DJ - Learning To Fly - Two Gunslingers. 
Álbums destacados / Starred Albums: Greatest Hits and The Best Of Everything (My Spotify playlist)
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La primera vez que la escuché (y me permito ser absolutamente 'self-centered' porque esta es mi esquinita virtual) pensé 'soy yo'. Como si estuviera leyendo el horóscopo, mi cabeza ignoró todas las partes de la letra con las que no me identifico y con el resto se armó una descripción de un pedacito de mi dinámicas. With your money and your cocaine Keep thinking that her mind is gonna change But I know everything is okay She's gonna listen to her heart It's gonna tell her what to do She might need a lot of loving But she don't need you [...] You want her to think it's over You can't see it doesn't matter what you do Buddy, you don't even know her [...] And you just can't creep up behind her And you can't understand that she's my girl She's my girl Yendo por partes: Estamos hablando de alguien que cree que puede manipular o tentar a otra, a partir de ciertas cosas. En este caso habla de drogas, pero me concentré más en 'el poder' y la plata. Cree que va a poder convencer a la chica de la que habla este tercero, pero la letra muestra confianza en ella: diciendo que no se preocupa, porque sabe que ella lo va a manejar por sí misma. Mi parte favorita es cuando agrega "podrá necesitar mucho cariño, pero no te necesita a vos". Más allá del poder, la plata y las drogas, el cariño (o el 'amor') es sumamente codiciado también (no los comparo). Diferenciar entre necesitar algo y quien te lo da me resultó muy 'on spot' (a falta de una mejor palabra en español). En 'no entendés que es mí chica' ignoré la posibilidad de que sea la pareja hablando, y lo interpreté como ella misma diciendo que 'ella es suya'. Por más trillada que esté la frase, creo que a veces no llega el mensaje adecuadamente. Como ya escribí en algún sector de todo este derrame de pensamientos, al final del día quienes le brinden cariño podrán ir y venir, pero siempre se va a quedar consigo misma. Es elemental que entonces confíe en sus criterios, impulsos y decisiones. Por otro lado también me hizo pensar en aquellos hombres con los que tuve malas experiencias. Quizás el tipo de chabones que intentaban 'influenciarte' para que tiendas hacia ciertas cosas o decisiones. Mentir sobre la apariencia, quién eran, o incluso sobre su situación amorosa/sexual. Gente manipuladora, concretamente. Me permito sonar tonta y decir que siempre agradecí mi capacidad de poner distancia de esas cosas, y jamás responsabilizarme frente a quienes intentaban hacerme sentirlo. No me parece que tenga un problema haciéndome responsable (se atajaba). Quizás sí una capacidad de reconocer cuándo la responsable soy yo (y cuándo no). No menos interesante es que, las primeras veces que la escuhé, me acordaba muchísimo de mi viejo. Infinidad de veces le conté situaciones que me angustiaban, y él siempre respondió con 'sos una piba muy fuerte, yo sé que vas a superarlo'. Para mí siempre fue súmamente empoderador. Más allá del consejo u opinión que me diera, ese comentario siempre estuvo. Mi mamá, en cambio, lo criticaba diciendo: 'dejala estar herida' refiriéndose a que, buscando siempre la solución racional, hace falta ese ratito en el que simplemente te permitís desarmarte y estar herida. Después te recomponés y salís mejor. Ambos tienen un gran punto. En resumen: la canción me refleja todas esas cosas. Que se me caguen de risa los psicoanalistas. Una amiga alguna vez me dijo: 'Sos el tipo de persona cuyo máximo defensor siempre va a ser ella misma'. Me sorprendió su percepción de mí y de ella, siendo nosotras tan diferntes personas. Lamentablemente lo dijo hace bastante tiempo y no me acuerdo exáctamente qué más agregó, pero iba por ahí. (En algún momento debería ponerle contraseña a esto, antes de que se vuelva un diario 'personal' público). |
No me imagino a nadie dedicándomela, porque tendría miedo de que me quede marcada como las otras dedicadas. Igual las chances de que alguien conozca a este tipo, le guste la canción y encima tenga ganas de dedicarme semejante tema, me mantiene la canción a salvo. Es de mis favoritas (por si no queda claro). Me resulta hermosamente romántica. Pienso en lo tierno de que alguien se desconecte de sus problemas -o molestias con la sociedad- cuando llega 'esa chica' (o persona) que le permite tener un ratito de plenitud. Me desarmo por este tipo. |
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Años activo / Years active: 1981-? Géneros / Genres: Rock, progressive rock and pop. Temas favoritos / Favourites: - Grendel - That Time Of The Night - Three Boats Down From The Candy - Cinderella Search - Forgotten Sons - Lavender - Jigsaw - Garden Party - Script For A Jester's Tear - Kayleigh - Sugar Mice - Punch And Judy - Tux On - White Russian - Slainte Math - White Feather 
Álbums destacados / Starred Albums: B'Sides Themselves, Misplaced Childhood and Script For A Jester's Tear (My Spotify playlist)
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Mountains echo, curfews bell, signal ending tasks They place their faith in oaken doors, cower in candlelight The panic seeps through bloodstained floors as Grendel stalks the night Earth rim walker seeks his meals Prepare the funeral pyres The shaper's songs no longer heal the fear Within their eyes Wooden figures, pagan gods, stare blindly cross the sea Appeal for help from ocean fogs, for saviours born of dreams They know their lives are forfeit now, priestly heads they bow in shame They cannot face the trembling crowd that flinch in Grendel's name Earth rim walker seeks his meals Prepare the funeral pyres The shaper's songs no longer heal the fear Within their eyes As Grendel leaves his mossy home beneath the stagnant mere Along the forest path he roams to Hrothgar's hall so clear He knows that victory is secured, his charm will testify His claws will drip with mortal blood as moonbeams haunt the sky As Grendel leaves his mossy home beneath the stagnant mere Along the forest path he roams to Hrothgar's hall so clear He knows that victory is secured, his charm will testify His claws will drip with mortal blood, as moonbeams haunt the sky Silken membranes span his path, fingerprints in dew Denizens of twilight lands humbly beg him through Mother nature's bastard child shunned by leaf and stream An alien in an alien land seeks solace within dreams The shaper's lies his poisoned tongue malign with mocking harp Beguiling queen, her innocence offends his icy heart Hounds freeze in silence bewitched by the reptile spell Sulphurous essence pervades round the grassy dell Heorot awaits him like lamb to the butcher's knife Stellular heavens ignore even children's cries Screams are his music, lightning his guide Raping the darkness, d-d-death by his side Chants rise in terror, free round the oaken beams Flickering firelight portraying the grisly scene Warriors advance, prepare for the nightmare foe Futile their sacrifice as even their hearts must know Heroes' delusions, with feet in the grave Lurker at the threshold He cares not for the brave So you thought that your bolts and your locks would keep me out You should have known better after all this time You're gonna pay in blood for all your vicious slander With your ugly pale skins and your putrid blue eyes Why should I feel pity when you kill your own and feel no shame? God's on my side, sure as hell. I'm gonna take no blame So you say you believe in all of Mother Nature's laws You lust for gold with your sharpened knives Ooh, when your hoards are gathered and your enemies left to rot You pray with your bloodstained hands at the feet of your pagan gods Then you try to place the killer's blade in my hand Your call for justice distorts the truth Well, I've had enough of all your pretty pretty speeches Receive your punishment Expose your throats to my righteous claws And let the blood flow |
Interlocked through a missing piece. We are renaissance children becalmed beneath the Bridge of Sighs. Forever throwing firebrands at the stonework. We are Siamese children related by the heart. Bleeding from the surgery of initial confrontation Holding the word scalpels on trembling lips. Stand straight, look me in the eye and say goodbye. Stand straight, we've drifted past the point of reasons why. Yesterday starts tomorrow, tomorrow starts today. And the problem always seems to be we're picking up the pieces onthe ricochet. Drowning tequila sunsets, stowaways on midnight ships. Refugees of romance plead asylum from the real. Scrambling distress signals on random frequencies. Forever repatriated on guilt laden morning planes. We are pilots of passion sweating the flight on course. To another summit conference, another breakfast time divorce. Screaming out a ceasefire, snow-blind in an avalanche zone. Stand straight, look me in the eye and say goodbye. Stand straight, we've drifted past the point of reasons why. Yesterday starts tomorrow, tomorrow starts today. And the problem always seems to be we're picking up the pieces onthe ricochet. Are we trigger happy? Russian roulette in the waiting room. Empty chambers embracing the end. Puzzled visions haunt the ripples of a trevi moon. Dream coins for the fountain or to cover your eyes. We reached ignition point from the sparks of pleasantries. We sensed the smoke advancing from horizons. You must have known that I was concealing an escape. |
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One more experience, one more entry in a diary, self penned. Yet another emotional suicide overdosed on sentiment and pride. Too late to say I love you, too late to re stage the play. Abandoning the relics in my playground of yesterday. I'm losing on the swings, I'm losing on the roundabouts. The game is over. Yet another emotional suicide overdosed on sentiment and pride. I act the role in classic style of a martyr carved with twisted smile. To bleed the lyric for this song to write the rites to right my wrongs. An epitaph to a broken dream to exercise this silent scream. A scream that's borne from sorrow. I never did write that love song, the words just never seemed to flow. Now sad in reflection did I gaze through perfection. Examine the shadows on the other side of the morning. Promised wedding now a wake. The fool escaped from paradise will look ver his shoulder and cry. Sit and chew on daffodils and struggle to answer why?. As you grow up and leave the playground. Where you kissed your prince and found your frog. Remember the jester that showed you tears, the script for tears. |
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Years active: 1967-2017 Géneros / Genres: Roots rock, Celtic rock, blues rock, country rock Temas favoritos / Favourites: - Expresso Love - Tunnel Of Love - Down To The Waterline - Money For Nothing - Once Upon A Time In The West - Where Do You Think You Are Going? - Six Blade Knife (la voz de este tipo... me destruye) - Water Of Love - Hand In Hand - Romeo And Juliet - Brothers In Arms - Love Over Gold - Private Investigations - Two Young Lovers - Telegraph Road - Solid Rock 
Álbums destacados / Starred Albums: Alchemy: Dire Straits Live and Making Moves (My Spotify playlist)
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Years active: 1988-1991 Géneros / Genres: Rock Temas favoritos / Favourites: - Not Alone Any More - Handle With Care - Dirty World - Last Night - Heading For The Light - End Of The Line - Inside Out - The Devil's Been Busy - 7 Deadly Sins 
Álbums destacados / Starred Albums: The Traveling Wilburys Vol.1 and Vol.3 (My Spotify playlist)
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- Thank You - Tangerine Genesis - The Fountain Of Salmacis - The Musical Box Jim Croce - Tomorrow's Gonna Be a brigther Day - Walkin' Back to Georgia - Hey Tomorrow - One Less Set of Footsteps Joaquín Sabina - Esta Noche Contigo - Mujeres Fatal - Por el Bulevar de los Sueños Rotos - Incluso en Estos Tiempos - 19 Días y 500 Noches - Más de Cien Mentiras - Siete Crisantemos More - You're So Vain by Carly Simon - Sun To Me by MGK - Colombina de Jaime Ross |
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- You Got It - She's a Mystery to Me - Crying Drive-By Truckers - Where the Devil Don't Stay - Three Great Alabama Icons - The Southern Thing - Ronnie And Neil - The Boys from Alabama |
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