
Last lays in Paris
rare photo
Here are the young men, the weight on their shoulders Here are the young men, well where have they been?


É uma das parcerias que mais prometem para este ano. Charlotte Gainsbourg e Beck juntaram-se para gravar um álbum (que apresentará como protagonista o nome da cantora). Com o título Irm, o disco será editado na próxima semana. Aqui fica um primeiro aperitivo, no teledisco de Heaven Can Wait, com realização de Keith Schofield.




Singer-songwriter Stephin Merritt originally conceived Realism, The Magnetic Fields’ third Nonesuch release, as a companion to the group’s brash 2008 Distortion, though the more tremulous listeners among us can rest assured they won’t have to frantically reach for the volume-control knob this time. Realism, at least on its decorous surface, comes across as a flipside to Distortion, the aural opposite of that clangorous homage to industrial pop of the Jesus and Mary Chain.
“I thought of the two records as a pair,” Merritt reveals, “and I kind of wanted them to be called True and False. But I couldn’t decide which I wanted to be called True and which I wanted to be called False. They both have to do with the notions of truth and falsehood in recording and music—not particularly with the lyrics but with the production style. Distortion went as far as one could really go in the direction of stylized noise-pop, which is probably the limit of stylization in rock before it turns into some other genre. And Realism is folk, although I couldn’t really bring myself to go all the way with folk. I can’t stand the sound of an acoustic guitar for more than three minutes at a time. So I didn’t go really, really folk, I thought I would go in a ’variety folk’ format, like a Judy Collins or a Judy Henkse album. Most of my favorite records are variety records. Distortion was one monolithic production idea and Realism is a more kaleidoscopic approach to a genre.”
Merritt was inspired by the orchestrated British folk of the late ’60s / early ’70s, which had evolved beyond the strictures of traditional music following sustained exposure to the psychedelic movement, and by the groundbreaking work of arranger-producer Joshua Rifkin on Collins’ In My Life and Wildflowers. Says Merritt, “It was as if the world were put on one record, where you have absolutely no idea what’s coming next. I like that in radio programming. I like it when I’m deejaying, I like doing it on my own records. With Collins’ records, there are hardly any musicians in common from track to track and each song is written by a different person.” Merritt, of course, writes everything himself. “I just pretend to be a lot of different writers.”
He brings the concision of a three-minute pop-song to each of the 13 tracks on Realism. As he puts it, “I like songs short; I don’t go for big statements in general. I find it difficult to listen, say, to Beethoven. I prefer small cozy, charming, subtle things, not masterpieces and epics.” The tracks here range from the trippy, toy-box melodies of "The Dolls' Tea Party" and "Painted Flower" to the almost alarmingly insistent, group sing-along of “We Are Having a Hootenany.” “Seduced and Abandoned,” in which Merritt himself essays the role of a woman impregnated then spurned at the altar, features a sad circus-like melody with mournful tuba; “Interlude” is a spare, elegant ballroom dance, dreamily recalled from afar. There's even a deceptively festive holiday number, “Everything Is One Big Christmas Tree,” featuring a lusty chorus sung in German.
Track Listing:
1. You Must Be Out of Your Mind
2. Interlude
3. We Are Having a Hootenanny
4. I Don't Know What to Say
5. The Dolls' Tea Party
6. Everything Is One Big Christmas Tree
7. Walk a Lonely Road
8. Always Already Gone
9. Seduced and Abandoned
10. Better Things
11. Painted Flower
12. The Dada Polka
13. From a Sinking Boat
Songs of Experience ... Jimi Hendrix in 1967. Photograph: Marc Sharratt/Rex Features This year will see a spate of new – sorry, old – Jimi Hendrix material, according to his estate, honouring the 40th anniversary of the guitarist's death. Valleys of Neptune, the first compilation of unreleased music, will be issued in March.
"It's wonderfully fresh material," Eddie Kramer, a former Hendrix engineer, told USA Today. "You hear the pure essence of the band, an in-your-face vibrancy. There were only four tracks and no overdubs, with Jimi singing as if he's in concert. He's at the top of his game." Valleys of Neptune's 12 songs were taken mostly from sessions at London's Olympic Studios and New York's Record Plant in 1969. Intended for the follow-up album to Electric Ladyland, they feature Hendrix's first work with bassist Billy Cox and his final recordings with the original Jimi Hendrix Experience lineup. Kramer, who recorded the tracks, was brought back for new digital mixes.
Besides the title track, a favourite of Hendrix collectors, Valley of Neptune's highlights include the only Jimi Hendrix Experience studio recording of Hear My Train a Comin', an instrumental rendition of Cream's Sunshine of Your Love, new versions of Fire and Red House, and the early original Mr Bad Luck. According to Hendrix's sister Janie, who now oversees his estate, the guitarist's "brilliance shines through on every one of these precious tracks".
The compilation will be released on 9 March, together with deluxe reissues of Are You Experienced, Axis, Electric Ladyland and First Rays of the New Rising Sun, each with a bonus documentary directed by Beatles Anthology creator Bob Smeaton. More re-releases are planned for later in the year, including the 1968 best-of Smash Hits, a Blu-Ray edition of Live at Woodstock. As for the rest of the unreleased music, Kramer claims there's loads to sort through. "[It's] a strong vault," he said, "a lot of live stuff, that we have yet to tap into." The estate made similar promises last year, announcing a DVD with backstage footage of Hendrix, which has yet to be released.
in: http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2010/jan/12/new-jimi-hendrix-material

A edição nº 1096, a Rolling Stone propõe um dossier sobre os dramas do aquecimento global, incluindo o apontar do dedo a algumas das poderosas personalidades que, segundo a revista, são "os piores inimigos do planeta"
Que acontece no último terço do filme A Estrada (The Road), de John Hillcoat, baseado no romance de Cormac McCarthy? Dir-se-ia que a parábola filosófica sobre um pai e um filho em cenário apocalíptico se desmancha, dando lugar a uma tipificada aventura de sobrevivência em que a "reconstituição" da família emerge como escape dramático e moral... Provavelmente, o filme reflecte as atribulações da sua produção (como todos, hélas!) e, nem que seja por reacção de defesa, não consegue sustentar de forma dramaticamente coerente aquilo que o coloca em marcha. A saber: o esvaziamento de qualquer réstea de sagrado, ou ainda, o total cepticismo face ao conceito de humanidade.Seja como for, A Estrada deixa-nos algo de cinematograficamente precioso, por assim dizer o anti-2012 [Emmerich]. Assim, em vez de um cataclismo digital, reduzido ao look pueril de um banal jogo de video, este é, insolitamente, um filme sobre o retorno do material [contra o virtual]. O espantoso trabalho da equipa cenográfica — Chris Kennedy (production design), Gershon Ginsburg (art direction) e Robert Greenfield (set decoration) — vai, todo ele, no sentido de reforçar uma intensa verdade das paisagens, dos objectos e, em particular, de tudo aquilo que é detrito ou ruína. Dir-se-ia que reencontramos, aqui, a paixão do real que perpassa também por O Sítio das Coisas Selvagens. Ou como algum cinema americano quer, literalmente, descer à terra.