Leaps and gaggles

- What do you mean, you've got a funny feeling?
- I just know, you know. I can read her like a book.
- Don't judge a book by its cover.
- He who dares wins.
- Look before you leap.
- Do you believe in life after love?
- That's a song.
- (Whispers) Shit.

You hate skateboarding, anyway.
You're always saying it's childish, which really pisses me off 

because it's not.

- Met this girl Cassandra. She's a psychic. She gave me her number...
- That's your number.
- Man, she's good.

(Spaced, 1999)

Primrose Hill

Jim stops and gets out the car, goes to a house in Emperor's Gate,

Through the door and to his room,

then he puts the TV on,

turns it off and makes some tea, says "Modern life - well it's rubbish, 
 I'm holding on for tomorrow", 



Then Susan comes into the room, she's a naughty girl with a lovely smile, says
"Let's take a drive to Primrose Hill, it's windy there and the view's so nice",

London ice can freeze your toes like anyone, well

I suppose you're holding on for tomorrow.

Primrose Hill, London NW1

Intru în birou.

Intru în birou.

Julie: Ştiţi că ieri a fost "international happiness day"?
Eu: "International happiness day"? ... Seriously?
Julie: [începe să rîdă şi-mi arată poza la care se uita: ]

Do you want new wave or do you want the truth?

Bănuiesc că de cele mai multe ori nu sunt exuberant la auzul unor planuri, gînduri, vise... Şi nu vreau să detaliez/caut motivele. Observ însă că subconştientul funcţionează (ceea ce nu e rău) şi după o vreme acestea sunt internalizate. "Devin o parte din mine", cum ar spune o melodie-beşină generică de dragoste.

Orice se depune încet pe albia rîului, dar se depune rezistent.

Nu îmi pare a fi un lucru rău, dar cu siguranţă nu e ideal.

Coeziune:

Dă-mi un hectar de violoncele/ Acordate-ntr-un regret îndepărtat

Voiam să share-uiesc asta. Pe lîngă melodia excelentă a lui Cat Yusuf Stevens Islam (mai jos, subtitrată în culori pentru o înţelegere mai uşoară), am dat de altceva. O parte dintr-o poezie a lui John Cooper Clarke.


John Cooper Clarke - Pity The Plight


Pity the fates of young fellows
Too long in bed with no sleep
With their complex romantic attachments
Oh look on their sorrows and weep.
They don't get a moment's reflection,
There's always a crowd in their eye
Pity the plight of young fellows
Regard all their worries and cry.

Their Christian mothers were lazy perhaps
Leaving it up to the school
Where the moral perspective is hazy perhaps
And the climate oppressively cruel.
Give me one acre of cellos
Pitched at some distant regret,
Pity the fate of young fellows
And their anxious attempts to forget.


Melodia lui Stevens e un dialog între avînt şi experienţă, Son vs. Father.