Friday, March 25, 2005

his 'n' hers



sexta-feira. jantar tímido no oriento, para mudar de ares. algumas cervejas, "escuridão ao meio-dia" de geraldo mayrink - um pequeno livro sobre "a condição masculina" - e audição (neste instante) do "his 'n' hers", do pulp, que acabo de terminar de baixar. umas das boas coisas de se trabalhar em casa em frente ao computador é que posso ficar baixando músicas da internet durante o processo. esse álbum do pulp é sonho de consumo não é de hoje. precursor do genial "different class", traz jarvis cocker, vocalista e letrista, no esplendor de seu cinismo, lirismo e impressionante capacidade de contador de histórias sobre relacionamentos ou momentos "de formação" na vida dos personagens de suas canções. cada música carrega um universo em si e o faz com a concisão e economia que podia servir de lição a muitos pretensos contistas por aí.

"his 'n' hers", lançado em 1994, teve o clipe do single "babies" veiculado pela mtv brasil na época. logo em seguida os clipes do "different class" (1995) apareceram: "disco 2000" e "common people", principalmente. os discos seguintes, "this is hardcore" (1998), que trazia entre seus temas principais solidão, indústria pornográfica, toxicomania e fama, e "we love life" (2001), esse sim conceitual, com quase todas as canções versando sobre a natureza (como "weeds", "birds in your garden" e "the trees"), não tiveram repercussão quase nenhuma por aqui.

hoje em dia, o pulp está em estado de hibernação, segundo o próprio jarvis cocker, que além de se dedicar à sua banda paralela, relaxed muscle, compõe sozinho a trilha do novo filme da série harry potter, "harry potter and the goblet of fire".

deixo aqui a letra de uma das minhas favoritas do "his 'n' hers", "david's last summer", um dos exemplos do acima mencionado talento de cocker para compor pequenas histórias no formato de música pop:

We made our way slowly down the path that led to the stream, swaying slightly, drunk on the sun, I suppose. It was a real summer's day. The air humming with heat whilst the trees beckoned us into their cool green shade. When we reached the stream I put a bottle of cider into the water to chill, both of us knowing that we'd drink it long before it had chance. This is where you want to be, there's nothing else but you and her and how you use your time. Walking to parties whilst it's still light outside. Peter was upset at first but now he's in the garden talking to somebody Polish. Why don't we set up a tent and spend the night out there? And we can pretend that we're somewhere foreign but we'll still be able to use the fridge if we get hungry or too hot. This is where you want to be...etc. This is where you want to be...etc. The room smells faintly of sun tan lotion in the evening sunlight and when you take off your clothes you're still wearing a small pale skin bikini. The sound of children playing in the park comes from faraway and time slows down to the speed of the specks of dust floating in the light from the window. Summer leaves fall from Summer trees. Summer grazes fade on Summer knees. Summer nights are slowly getting long, Summer's going so hurry soon it'll be gone. So we went out to the park at midnight one last time. Past the abandoned glasshouse stuffed full of dying palms. Past the bandstand down to the boating lake. And we swam in the moonlight for what seemed like hours until we couldn't swim anymore. And as we came out of the water we both sensed a certain movement in the air and we both shivered slightly and ran to collect our clothes. And as we walked home we could hear the leaves curling and turning brown on the trees and the birds deciding where to go for the Winter. And the whole sound of Summer packing its bags as it prepared to leave town. Oh but I want you to stay. Oh please stay for a while, I don't want to live in the cold.

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