Un conejo musical de Índias

I've been very busy lately because of excess of classes, I have started two new blogs as well, and I have been also involved in some other stuff that I'd rather not mention on this post. In short, I'm overwhelmed - I have not been able to blog on blogger which I have missed a lot since it is my favorite kind of fun. In contrast, I have listened to music like a freak. Internet is a blessing for that, "good gracious"! Music's played an important role in my life, especially when I was teenager. To me, music is essential to fill in the hollow parts of all walls in every place of our souls. I believe that people who don't listen to music may have greater difficulties at expressing love, hate, anger, despisal, approval, friendship, anxiety...

I don't make music - I wish though. I am no musician at all. I just have a list of some of my favorite artists whom I believe can release true material. I won't mention their names because my taste for music is irrelevant. However, when it comes to music, i can say that I normally get my attention caught by artists that write what they sing and play. My first contact with music was pretty much contradicting and therefore very peculiar. The albums I could find home were Dad's. I used to listen to Bob Dylan, John Denver, The Beatles, Elvis Presley, Creedence Clearwater Revival, ABBA, Carpenters, Joan Baez, and others I could name here forever.

Surprisingly, I got to enjoy classical music too, but from television. When I was a kid, I used to watch this classical piano performances TV show that would be aired on a public broadcast channel in Brazil every Sunday (it is still aired). That show was hosted by a famous classical Brazilian pianist and because of his talent and 'carisma', I got totally infatuated by the instrument and not only did I feel like learning how to play it, but also becoming a real pianist. By the age of 9, I convinced mom to get me a private piano teacher and a Fritz Dobbert piano. I got the teacher, but I never had the piano; it would've been way expensive for my family to afford it back then.

Two years later, I started attending a conservatory where we were mostly girls wearing down-on-the-knees pleated navy blue skirts, tall white socks, and black shoes. There, I'd spend at least one entire afternoon per week taking Introduction to Band and Conducting Techniques, Music Theory, Flute, Piano lessons (of course), and Choire Practices. I had been studying at that conservatory for almost 6 years when I decided that going to college was more important to me.

I really thought I was going to graduate in music, but I gave it up just like that. Literature and movies took over me. By that time, in the early 90's, I had more CD's than vynil albums in my house shelves. I listened to grunge, punk rock, hardcore, trash metal and too little of Brazilian music. I was never motivated to hear Brazilian music at home. Maybe because my dad is an ESL teacher and nuts about American music and culture. He and mom were most of the time listening to British and American musicians around me.

I care for music a lot but I may not be that music affectionate in the sense that I go after the musician's biography before I buy a CD. I used to be this way, perhaps, but nowadays not anymore. If I like what I hear, I'll simply get it. Then, I listen to it as many times as I think it is possible to play a CD. I play it over and over until my stomach gets sick. I'm worse than pop radio stations or MTV. Well... you know what? Giving some thought to it, those media are worse than my style of listening to music. They are more terrible for sure because they play and replay what they want people to listen to. It's brainwash. We are forced to hear, as a consequence enjoy, and inevitably buy whatever powerful record labels rule. I confess that I get to know many of the musicians I now listen to through these media - especially via internet - but... come on... not everything out there is possible to be heard.

Neverthless, radio stations and MTV play some songs so many, but so many, times that even if I had had a slight chance of being fond of those musicians, it would have been nulified. Playing repetitively songs simply don't work for me. In fact, I get the fully opposite feeling: REPULSE. There are certain tunes that every time I hear their first chords, I either turn off the TV or radio by launching my sneakers towards the device, or I pull the plug cord in a devilish way. I really do that sometimes and I get those weird thoughts like: "Get the hell out of here... My earlobes ain't toilet bowls." I'll list a few tracks here so that you, fellow blog readers, can have some idea of what I'm writing about:

Spin Doctors - Two Princess(aie aie aie)
"One, two, princess*** kneel before you
(that’s what I said, now)
Princes, princess who adore you
(just go ahead, now)
One has diamonds in his pockets
(that sounds great, now)
This one, said he wants to buy you lockets
(ain’t in his head, now)
This one, he got a princely racket
(that’s what I said, now)"
***note - wtf is that??? singing about princess or calling someone like that... who does that?

Counting Crows - Mr. Jones
"Sha*** la la la la la la..... hmm, uh huh...
I was down at the New Amsterdam staring at this yellow-haired girl
Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with a black-haired flamenco dancer
She dances while his father plays guitar
She's suddenly beautiful
We all want something beautiful
Man I wish I was beautiful
So come dance this silence down through the mornin'
Sha la la la la la la la yeah.. uh huh, yeah..."
***note - when I listen to that SHA LA LA LA... I feel like pissing blood on that guy's beard...

LemonHead - Mrs Robinson
"And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson***
Jesus loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson
Heaven holds a place for those who pray
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)"
***note - Simon and Garfunkel original tune is less irritating.

Four Non Blondes - What's Going On
"25 years of my life and still
I'm trying to get up that great big hill of hope
for a destination***
I realized quickly when I knew I should
that the world was made up of this brotherhood of man
for whatever that means"
***note - it's been 50 years now, I guess...

Love music regardless...

Poetry/Curiosity Facts:
El Miedo

Una mañana, nos regalaron un conejo de Índias.
Llegó a casa enjaulado.
Al mediodía, le abrí la puerta de la jaula.
Volví a casa al anochecer
y lo encontré tal como lo había dejado:
jaula adentro, pegado a los barrotes,
temblando del susto de la liberdad.