Tjorven (eller Kalmar som den hette på exportmarknaden) var en skåpbil som tillverkades av Kalmar Verkstad AB. Tillverkningen skedde mellan år 1969 och 1971.

Källa: http://www.tjorven.se/

Bilen var framtagen för att användas som brevbärarbil och hade i originalutförandet endast en fällbar pall som kunde användas för en passagerare. Bilen hade skjutdörrar med förarplatsen på högersidan för att brevbäraren skulle kunna stanna bilen precis vid brevlådan, öppna dörren och lägga posten i postlådan utan att gå ur bilen. Några prototyper med kaross i plåt tillverkades för utprovning. När den sedan började produceras fick Tjorven en kaross av glasfiberplast ovanpå en ram av stålprofiler.

Källa: http://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tjorven_(bil)

I maj 2006 fanns det 272 Tjorvar kvar i bilregistret, varav 7 st var i trafik.

I won’t start hyping my blog, as it will function as a site where you can download out of print records, classic albums and other forgotten gems.

Without further ado, I’d like to bring out the first record..

The Yamasuki Singers - Le Monde Fabuleux Des Yamasuki

The french power-duo of the 70’s, Daniel Vangarde & Jean Kluger, joined forces in 1971 and made the album “Le Monde Fabuleux Des Yamasuki” under the moniker Yamasuki aka The Yamasuki Singers.
A japanese concept album, consisting of pop songs with funky drumbreaks, heavy basslines and japanese vocals sung by french school children.

Today the record is highly sought after, as the album in its entirety is incredible sample-materiale!
The second track on the record, Kono Samurai, was sampled in 2008 by Otis Jackson Jr. aka Madlib for Erykah Badu’s fourth studio-album; “New Amerykah Part One (World War 4)”.

Fun fact: Daniel Vangarde, who is behind The Yamasuki Singers, is the father of Thomas Bangalter, who is known for being 50% of the group “Daft Punk”.

The Yamasuki Singers - Le Monde Fabuleux Des Yamasuki
Enjoy!

 YES

This song is a very popular song from my childhood. As happened with me most of the time, I would have no clue about such songs except the name of the singer. And with time I would forget all about such songs as they went out of circulation.

“Rut hai milan ki saathi mere aaja” was one such song. I was a typical bubbly Rafi number. I thought that it must be from a Jeetendra movie like “Carawan”, “Jeene ki raah” etc.

Now that I have discovered its video, I find that the song is from a 1971 movie called Mela. Sanjay Khan and Mumtaz figure in this song. The movie is forgotten, but the music deserves to come back into cirulation, if this song is any indication. Majrooh Sultanpuri’s lyrics has been set to a racy tune by R D Burman. Rafi and Lata have sung this song with gutso.

I notice that the tune of this song is very similar to the tune of “sholay” number “koi haseena jab rooth jaati hai”. R D Burman, the music director of both the movies, must have used the same tune in that “Sholay” number as well.

It is a racy number, just like the “sholay” number.

Song- Rut hai milan ki saathi mere aaja (Mela 1971) Singers-Rafi,Lata, Lyrics- Majrooh, MD- R D Burman

Lyrics

ho
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re
mohe kahin le chal baanhon ke sahaare
baaghon mein kheton mein nadiyaa kinaare
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re

ho koyi sajanvaa aajaa tere binaa
thandi hawaa sahi naa jaaye aajaa o aaja
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re
mohe kahin le chal baanhon ke sahaare
haan baaghon mein kheton mein nadiyaa kinaare
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re

ho jaise rut pe chhaye hariyaali
gahri hoye mukh pe rangat neha ki
kheton ke sang jhoomen pavan mein
phulvaa sapnon ke daali armaan ki
tere sivaa kachhu soojhe naahin ab to saanware
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re
mohe kahin le chal baanhon ke sahaare
haan baaghon mein kheton mein nadiyaa kinaare
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re

o oye sajaniyaa jaan le le koyi mose
ab to laage nainaa tose
aajaa o aajaa
o man kahtaa hai duniyaa taj ke jaani bas jaaun
teri aankhon mein
aur main gori mahki-mahki
ghul ke rah jaaun
teri saanson mein
ho ik dooje mein yoon kho jaayen jag dekhaa kare
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re
mohe kahin le chal baanhon ke sahaare
baaghon mein kheton mein nadiyaa kinaare
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re
rut hai milan ki saathi mere aa re

Here is yet another song from 1970s which I liked a lot those days, without having much details about it, except that it was sung by Kishore Kumar. It went “koyi maane ya na maane jo kal tak the anjaane, wo aaj hamen jan se bhi pyaare ho gaye”.

Now that I have stumbled upon the video of this song, I have come to know that this song is from Adhikar ( 1971). Adhikar was quite a treasure trove for some remarkable songs, which were forgotten with passage of time. It was also in this movie where Kishore Kumar has sung his first quawwali song ( “jeena to hai ui ka jisne ye raaz jaana”), which I have already posted in this blog.

This song ” Koyi maane ya na maane” is a fantastic duet song sung by Kishore Kumar and Asha Bhonsle. While looking up on the actors on whom this song is picturised, they turn out to be Deb Mukherjee and Nazima. Deb Mukherjee is the brother of Joy Mukherji, and he is related to quite a few other famous film personalities, both past and present. Kishore Kumar, who sang this song for him, was the mama ( maternal uncle) of Deb Mukherjee.

Coming to the song itself, its picturisation finds the boy and girl ( Deb Mukherji and Nazima) having to spend a night alone drying out their wet clothes and things getting very intimate. In fact, I call this situation as “roop tera mastana, pyar mera deewana” situation, because a similar situation presented itself in that song of “Aradhana” as well.

This song has been forgotten by now, but it was a fantastic song as the listeners of this song will find. The music is by R D Burman and the lyrics were written by Ramesh Pant.

Song- Koi maane ya naa maane jo kal tak the anjaane ( Adhikar 1971) Singers- Kishore Kumar,Asha Bhonsle, Lyrics-Ramesh Pant,MD- R D Burman

Lyrics

koyi maane yaa na maane, jo kal tak the anjaane
koyi maane yaa na maane, jo kal tak the anjaane
wo aaj hamen jaan se bhi pyaare ho gaye
koyi maane yaa na maane, jo kal tak the anjaane
koyi maane yaa na maane, jo kal tak the anjaane
wo aaj hamen jaan se bhi pyaare ho gaye

ab to hamko ek hi sapnaa pooraa karnaa hai
janam janam kaa pyaar tumhaari maang mein bharnaa hai ho
jis din se tumko jaanaa, hamne qismat ko maanaa
tumhaaraa hi honaa thaa, tumhaare ho gaye haye
koyi maane yaa na maane, jo kal tak the anjaane
wo aaj hamen jaan se bhi pyaare ho gaye

aise na dekho hans kar hamko, kuchh ho jaataa hai
tan par qaaboo rakhte hain to man kho jaataa hai ho
dil se jab dil miltaa hai, ab ham se kyaa pardaa hai
jab aankhon hi aankhon mein ishaare ho gaye haan
koyi maane yaa na maane, jo kal tak the anjaane
wo aaj hamen jaan se bhi pyaare ho gaye

aankhon mein dore gaalon pe laali, honthon pe phool khile ho
jitnaa bhi dekhen dil nahin bhartaa, tum ham khoob mile ho
ye kaali kaali zulfen, ye gori gori baahen
kitne saare jeene ke sahaare ho gaye haan
koyi maane yaa na maane, jo kal tak the anjaane
wo aaj hamen jaan se bhi pyaare ho gaye
ho koyi maane yaa na maane, jo kal tak the anjaane
wo aaj hamen jaan se bhi pyaare ho gaye
koyi maane yaa na maane, jo kal tak the anjaane
wo aaj hamen jaan se bhi pyaare ho gaye
wo aaj hamen jaan se bhi pyaare ho gaye

(1910-1971) Escritor y sociólogo, había sido uno de los fundadores del Partido Nacionalcampesino en 1937. Entre 1948 y 1956 participó en los distintos Gobiernos húngaros. En octubre de 1956, como representante de su partido, reestructurado en ese momento, entró en el Gobierno de Imre Nagy en calidad de Ministro de Estado. Erdei formó parte de la comisión encargada de negociar la salida de los soviéticos de Hungría. Al igual que los demás miembros de la comisión, fue detenido por la KGB el 4 de noviembre en Tököl pero, a diferencia de sus compañeros de cautiverio –el general Maléter entre ellos-, fue puesto en libertad a las pocas semanas. Después de la derrota de la insurrección del otoño de 1956 ocupó diveros cargos públicos en el nuevo régimen socialista de Kádár: entre 1957 y 1971 fue designado secretario general y presidente de la Academia Húngara de las Ciencias; de 1964 a 1970 fue también secretario general del Frente Patriótico Popular, cargo que compaginó con el de miembro de la Presidencia de la República Popular de Hungría hasta su muerte en 1971.

(1913-1994) Entre 1953 y 1971, durante prácticamente dos décadas, formó parte de los Gobiernos de Hungría, y hasta 1980 permaneció en el Comité Central del Partido Socialista Obrero Húngaro. Durante la revolución del otoño de 1956 estaba al frente de la Comisión Militar del Comité Central del Partido, cuyo objetivo era terminar con las partidas de insurrectos, tarea que no fue respaldada por Imre Nagy mientras fue Primer Ministro. También entró en el Gobierno “revolucionario y patriótico” formado por Kádár el 4 de noviembre.

There comes a day when dads get suspicious about everything their 13-year-old sons are doing. And why not? They once were 13, too.

That day, foreshadowed for some time now, arrived yesterday.

Our 13-year-old is grounded, his computer privileges revoked. He was busted for the digital equivalent of what used to be getting caught with Playboy. He wasn’t reading any articles, that’s for sure.

Some day, of course, I’ll fess up to Evan that I was just 11 when I discovered Playboy. But I never got busted, pal. At least I was smart enough to read Playboy at my friend Marvin’s house. I wasn’t reading any articles, either.

It was 1969, and even Playboy was a bit more innocent then. I never quite got why secretaries were sitting around naked, but they were naked, and there you have it.

We moved that summer, and I saw Marvin only a couple of times after that. If memory serves, Marvin started hanging with a church youth group, and it didn’t seem right to bring up the Playboys.

A couple of years ago, I found out Marvin was living across town. I thought about giving him a call, but I didn’t. It’s hard enough to call out of the blue after 30-some years. Then to call and bring up the Playboys?

Nah. I’m not explaining it.

“The Devil Made Me Do It,” Percy Mayfield, from “Blues … And Then Some,” 1971. It’s out of print.

I wrote about this album last year. Guess what got my attention?

El 12 de enero del 2007 llego a mi esta carro, despues de casi 2 años dedcidi venderlo, por que? pues no tanto por gusto pero bueno…
Para los que se pregunten cual es el precio: $80,000 pesos

Casi dos años de restauracion y ya solo le falta tapizeria, y queda listo… despues pongo la lista de àrtes y modificaciones del auto

Pues parece que fue el el pie izquierdo… Ni modo todo sea por algo mejor.

The music of “Pakeeza” though considered outdated by the standards of 1970s by aam janta ( like yours truly) became surprisingly popular. two of the songs from this in movie in fact became second and third in Binaca geetmala final of 1972.

Though the song “mausam hai aashiquaana” was not ranked that high, but it was a nice and popular song as well. Written by Kamaal Amrohi, producer of this movie, this song was very nicely composed by Ghulam Mohammed.

Picturised on Meena Kumari and sung by Lata, the lyrics was written by Kamal Amrohi, the maker of this movie and husband of Meena Kumari. The music was by Ghulam Mohammad.

This song, like other songs of this movie , were retro even by the standards of 1970s. But this song retains its old world charm even today, as it did those days. It is a very nice song to listen to.

Song- Mausam hai aashiquaana (Paakeeza) Singer-Lata, Lyrics- Kamal Amrohi, MD- Ghulam Mohammad

mausam hai aashiqaanaa
ai dil kahin se unko aise mein dhoondh laanaa
aise mein dhoondh laanaa
mausam hai aashiqaanaa
ai dil kahin se unko aise mein dhoondh laanaa
aise mein dhoondh laanaa
mausam hai aashiqaanaa

kahnaa ke rut jawaan hai, aur ham taras rahe hain
kaali ghataa ke saaye, birhan ko dans rahe hain
dar hai na maar daale saawan kaa kyaa thikaanaa
saawan kaa kyaa thikaanaa
mausam hai aashiqaanaa

sooraj kahin bhi jaaye tum par na dhoop aaye
tum par na dhoop aaye
aaa
tumko pukaarte hain, in gesuon ke saaye
aa jaao main banaa doon palkon kaa shaamiyaanaa
palakon kaa shaamiyaanaa
mausam hai aashiqaanaa

phirte hain ham akele, baanhon mein koyi le le
aakhir koyi kahaan tak, tanahaaiyon se khele
din ho gaye hain zaalim raaten hain qaatilaanaa
raaten hain qaatilaanaa
mausam hai aashiqaanaa

aaa
ye raat ye khamoshi ye khwaab se nazaare
ye khwaab se nazaare e e
jugnoo hain yaa zameen par, utre hue hain taare
bekhwaab meri aankhen
bekhwaab meri aankhen madhosh hai zamaanaa
madhosh hai zamaanaa
mausam hai aashiqaanaa
ai dil kahin se unko aise mein dhoondh laanaa
mausam hai aashiqaanaa

When I was born at the tail end of the 60s, Laura’s music was already in bloom.

Interpretations of some of her yet-to-be classics were in my ears before I turned a year old: “And When I Die” by Blood, Sweat and Tears; “Eli’s Coming” by Three Dog Night; “Wedding Bell Blues,” “Stoned Soul Picnic,” “Save The Country,” and “Sweet Blindness” by the Fifth Dimension.  All were hits written by Laura.

Let me not forget Barbra Streisand’s version of Laura’s “Stoney End.”  Oh, yes.  My favorite Barbra moment of all time, written by Laura.

In those interpretations of Laura’s most popular songs, I can still see my mom and aunts changing records on the family stereo.  I can still see my uncles scribbling horn parts on tons of music paper.  I see the logo for Soul City Records (the 5D’s label), and that second album by BS&T on vinyl, 4-track, 8-track, and cassette.  I remember the cover for Three Dog Night’s Suitable For Framing, and the sound of Cory Wells tearing up the vocals on “Eli.”

My mom and aunts loved the soul-pop of the Fifth Dimension and Three Dog Night; my uncles lived for the horn-driven sounds and brass arrangements of bands like Blood, Sweat, and Tears.  The aforementioned songs written by Laura became a gigantic part of my family’s soundtrack, as well as sterling examples of what a talented singer - songwriter could accomplish by combining many diverse styles of music, and writing from the heart.

As I grew older, I learned the name of Laura Nyro by reading album covers and record labels.  At some point in 1981, I came across a picture of her in my first rock music encyclopedia.  I instantly fell in love with the cover of her 1971 album Gonna Take A Miracle.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of the picture, so I ripped it out of the book and taped it inside of my junior high school locker (1459).  The picture stayed up, along with the Stones and the Who, until I graduated in ‘84.

When I read of Laura’s passing in early 1997, I was still smarting from the loss of my own mother to ovarian cancer, the same type of cancer that ended Laura’s life.  I had been listening to interpretations of Laura’s music through some of mom’s favorite artists during my depression.  I was compelled to purchase a 2-disc compilation called Stoned Soul Picnic - The Best of Laura Nyro so that I could finally hear the singer - songwriter behind some of my mom’s favorite music.

From the first song, I was in both heaven and tears.  The experience was so unique and emotionally heavy, that I still can’t find words that can accurately describe the intense feeling I got as the CD went from song to song.  When the CD hit a song called “Lu,” my mood went from shades of New York gray to vibrant uptown color.  There was something in that song that lifted me out of the feelings of loss to the first “high” I had felt since my mom’s death a year before.  Laura’s voice (or should I say voices) jump-started my heart.  I played “Lu” so many times that I almost forgot that there was a lot more of her material that I hadn’t heard yet.

And I did.

“Timer,” “Emmie,” “Louise’s Church,” “Broken Rainbow,” and other songs pulled me out of the dark place to which no one had access.  Song after song played and I was floored; to this day, I still don’t understand why she didn’t get her due as a recording artist in her own right.  She was just as powerful an artist as her contemporaries Carole King and Joni Mitchell, so why wasn’t she ever mentioned in the same breath?  The original versions of her songs made famous by other artists are great, but her own versions pierce the flesh and go straight to the listener’s bone.

Her sense of timing makes her music move like currents on a wild rhythmic river, taking the listener on a crazy ride filled with broken streetwise characters, her great story sense, and her heart.  I felt connected to her like I never felt connected to an artist since my infatuation with the Beatles years before.  I still feel that way.

On October 18, Laura would have been 61 years old.  I wish I could have had the chance to tell her about her picture hanging in my locker when I was 14.  I also wish I could have said, “Thank you, Laura.  Your songs helped me through my own black patch after the loss of my mother.  When I hear you, I see mom and I hear the sounds of my past and my present.  There is not a day that goes by without one of your songs drifting through the air of my home, and there isn’t a day I don’t think about you.  You made the biggest transition of my life so far a little easier.  Thank you, and I love you for it.  I wish you were here.

(Lex Neon is the musical mastermind behind the music of indie sunshine pop / rock band Poppermost.  For more info, go to http://www.poppermost.com/)

Currently listening : Gonna Take a Miracle (Exp) By Laura Nyro Release date: By 2002-06-25

]]> http://atulsongaday.wordpress.com/2008/11/09/aao-tumhe-main-pyaar/ Sun, 09 Nov 2008 02:08:28 +0000 squarecutatul http://atulsongaday.wordpress.com/2008/11/09/aao-tumhe-main-pyaar/

I have posted a song ( “darpan ko dekha toone jab jab kiya singaar”) from “Upaasna” earlier in this blog which was picturised on Feroz Khan and Mumtaz and was sung by Mukesh. Here is another song from the same movie.

This time it is picturised on Sanjay Khan and Mumtaz and it is sung by Rafi and Lata. ” aao tumhemain pyaar sikha doon” was a nice and popular song those days.

But, as I have repeatedly mentioned, 1971 was a year of bumper crop of outstanding songs in Bollywood movies, so many songs struggled to survive in popularity stakes. Now with the benefit of hindsight, I am looking back at those songs and discovering gems after gems. This one is certainly among those forgotten gems.

From the lyrics, it is clear that this song was supposed to be a lighthearted time pass song. But the quality of even such songs was such that they are worth listening even today, provided those songs are brought back into circulation.

So here is my attempt to dig this song up for the listening and viewing pleasure of the fans of Bollywood music.

In this song, I find Mumtaz wearing rather subdued colours instead of her trademark bright orange. Moreover, she seems rather subdued here in comparison to her other duets of that era. May be the fact that this movie was called “Upaasna” ( prayer) rather than the more irreverent titles like “roti”/ “dushman”/”do raaste” etc may have to do something with this restrained performance.

Song-Aao tumhe main pyaar sikha doon(Upaasna 1971) Singers- Rafi, Lata, Lyrics- Indeewar, MD- Kalyanji Anandji

Lyrics

pyar sikha doon
sikhla do na
Aao tumhe main pyar sikha doon
sikhla do naa
Prem nagar ki dagar dikha doon
dikhla do na
dil ki dhadkan kya hoti hai
ye anjaana raaz bata doon
batla do na
Aao tumhe main pyar sikha doon

Chhod ke begaanapan
ab tum mere paas aa jaao
aa gayi lo aa gayi
bhool ke saari duniya
in baahon me kho jaao
na na na na na
na baba na
pyaar nahin hota aise
pyar nahin hota aise
hota hai phir wo kaise
thaho tum ko samjha doon
samjha do na
aao tumhe main pyaar silkha doon
acchaa
sikhla do na
Prem nagar ki dagar dikha doon
dikhla do na
aao tumhe main pyaar silkha doon

phool ki khusboo pawan ki soorat
kabhi aankh se dekhi
nahin to
tan to dekha man ki moorat kabhi aankh se dekhi
nahin nahin
pyaar nahin koi waasna
pyaar nahin koi waasna
ye to ek upaasna
samjhe
nahin samjhe
aao tumhe main samjha doon
samjha do na
aao tumhe main pyaar sikha doon
sikhla do na
aao tumhe main pyaar sikha doon
aao tumhe main pyaar sikha doon
hmm

(1892-1972) Personaje vinculado al internacionalismo socialista de obediencia soviética desde los años de la Gran Guerra, colaboró en la primera experiencia socialista húngara: la efímera República de los Consejos dirigida por Béla Kun entre el 21 de marzo y el 1 de agosto de 1919. En los primeros años veinte trabajó en el Komintern y a partir de 1924 regresó a a Hungría para organizar en la clandestinidad el Partido Comunista, pero un año más tarde fue encarcelado. Una vez en libertad, en 1940, viajó a la Unión Soviética para ponerse al frente de los comunistas húngaros. Al regresar a Hungría en 1944 como persona de confianza de Stalin fue hasta 1956 el máximo dirigente del Partido Comunista húngaro; entre 1952 y 1953 desempeñó el encargo de Primer Ministro. Abandonó Hungría durante la insurrección del otoño de 1956 y murió en Moscú en 1971.

Dev Anand was one of the leading heart throbs of Bollywood in 1950s and 60s. It is my personal opinion that he should have retired from playing teenage hero in 1960s as soon as he turned 40.

But he continued to play the role of teenager with actors younger than him playing his parents. Most of his movies after “Hare Rama Hare Krishna” failed because of his insistence to play teenage hero in his 50s, when younger heroes were already around to play such roles.

“Tere Mere sapne” was a contemporarty movie of “Hare Rama Hare Krishna” where Dev Anand acted opposite Mumtaz. No idea about the fate of the movie, but its songs did well.

Here is one of the nice songs from this movie. Inclusion of this song calls for introducing a new tag viz “bicycle” song. Actually in this song the girl rides on the front bar of a bicycle, which to my mind is the most romantic use of a bicycle that Bollywood movie makers have devised. Girl riding on the pollion of a motorbike, which was later devised in “Bobby” comes a distant second.

I have some more songs in this “bicycle” songs with the girl riding on the front bar. I am thinking of opening separate tag for this category of songs, but I wonder what should be the name of this tag. May be “girl on front bar of bicycle” will do ? Too long, I think. Any suggestions ?

Song- Ae maine kasam li (Tere mere sapne 1971) Singers-Lata, Kishore, Lyrics- Neeraj, MD- S D Burman

Lyrics

he main ne qasam li
li
he toone qasam li
li
nahin honge judaa ham…
he main ne qasam li
li
he toone qasam li
li
nahin honge judaa ham
he maine qasam li

saans teri madir madir jaise rajnigandhaa
pyaar teraa madhur madhur chaandni ki gangaa
saans teri madir madir jaise rajnigandhaa
pyaar teraa madhur madhur chaandni ki gangaa
nahin honge judaa
nahin honge judaa
nahin honge judaa ham…
maine qasam li
li
he toone qasam li
li
nahin honge judaa ham…
he maine qasam li

haan haan haan haan
paa ke kabhi, khoyaa tujhe, kho ke kabhi paayaa
janam janam, tere liye, badli hamne kaayaa
hmmm
paa ke kabhi, khoyaa tujhe, kho ke kabhi paayaa
janam janam, tere liye, badli hamne kaayaa
nahin honge judaa
nahin honge judaa
nahin honge judaa ham…
maine qasam li
li
he toone qasam li
li
nahin honge judaa ham
he maine qasam li

hmmm hmmm
ek tan hain, ek man hain, ek praan apne
ek rang, ek roop, tere mere sapne
ek tan hain, ek man hain, ek praan apne
ek rang, ek roop, tere mere sapne
nahin honge judaa
nahin honge judaa
nahin honge judaa ham
main ne qasam li
li
he toone qasam li
li
nahin honge judaa ham
he maine qasam li
li
he toone qasam li
li
nahin honge judaa ham
he maine qasam li

Generalmente, cuando se habla de los Bee Gees, automáticamente pensamos en música disco. Nos llegan a la mente imágenes de una atiborrada pista de baile, los trajes blancos al estilo Travolta y –por supuesto- la ya clásica esfera de espejos…

Y, después de todo, ¿por qué no? ¿Qué no fueron los Bee Gees una agrupación puramente destinada al tan amado –ejem… y, también, tan odiado… de hecho, jamás me ha podido gustar- género Disco? ¡Claro que no! La historia de los hermanos Gibb va más allá de lo que el emblemático estilo de la década de 1970 nos ha hecho creer.

Los Bee Gees surgen a principios de los años 60 (fue en esta década cuando comenzaron a ganar notoriedad, pues ya se habían iniciado informalmente desde 1957/1958), resultado de la unión de los hermanos Barry, Maurice y Robin Gibb. Viviendo un tiempo en Australia –la familia Gibb era originaria de Manchester, Inglaterra-, el trío de hermanos aprovechó su talento musical de forma temprana para realizar algunas presentaciones en televisión, apareciendo bajo diversos nombres hasta finalmente ser conocidos como Bee Gees (en referencia a las iníciales formadas por la frase “Brothers Gibb”).

Para 1967, después de alcanzar un ligero éxito en Australia, los Gibb habían regresado a Inglaterra, en donde lograron conseguir un contrato con la disquera Polydor. Su primer single, New York Mining Disaster 1941 fue un hitazo en el Reino Unido y Estados Unidos. Los hermanos habían comenzado en grande… y con el pie derecho.

Desde ese momento y hasta 1973, los BGs cosecharon una notable cantidad de éxitos que los colocó entre el gusto del público: Words, To Love Somebody, Massachusetts, World, I Started a Joke, la bella How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?, Don’t Forget to Remember, First of May, y muchos otros (hay algo que he notado de las canciones grabadas durante este periodo, y es que la mayor parte de ellas tiene un corte melancólico, de gran tristeza… Tal vez es cosa mía, pero siempre he tenido ese sentimiento… )

La temporada suave de los BGs terminaría en 1975, cuando comenzaron a experimentar cantanto en tono de falsete. Este año marcó la salida del álbum Main Course… Con él, la época Disco había comenzado para los hermanos Gibb…

En fin, escuchemos una breve selección de la “primera época” de esta agrupación. He elegido algunos de los temas que me parecen más característicos de ese sonido dulzón con el que contaban en aquellos años. Empecemos con Don’t Forget to Remember (1969).

Vamos ahora con Words, una canción de 1968 que resulta conocida para el público de México, pues Johnny Dinamo realizó en su momento un estupendo cover conocido como Palabras.

…Y, ya de 1971, pasemos con How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?. Con su letra cargada de tristeza y sentimentalismo, uno podría pensar que fue compuesta en un momento de gran depresión por parte de Barry y Robin –sus autores- pero, en realidad, prácticamente la improvisaron de la nada en cuestión de minutos :|…

Bueno… Así concluye el post de hoy. Creo que salió con una extensión algo mayor de la que acostumbro generalmente . Los invito a que busquen más temas de los primeros años de los Bee Gees. Lamentablemente, el éxito que alcanzaron con la música Disco ha provocado que estos temas pasen a un segundo plano. No dejemos que esto ocurra: sigamos descubriendo toda su obra, pues siempre valdrá la pena escuchar canciones como estas…

…Ok, rematemos con I Started a Joke, de 1968:

Fuentes/Referencias: http://www.officialbeegees.com ; http://www.beegees-world.com/ ; http://www.columbia.edu/~brennan/beegees/ ; http://www.songfacts.com ; http://en.wikipedia.org ; http://www.youtube.com

1971 is the story of 6 Indian PoWs lodged in Pakistani jails in the aftermath of the 1971 war and their brave attempt at returning to their motherland. Disillusioned with the Pakistani government that denies their very existence, they plan to expose the corrupt regime and the plight of other Indian PoWs by ensuring the crossing over of at least one of them.

A non-glamorous and gut wrenching movie, 1971 is perhaps the most realistic Indian war movie till date. It has none of the style nor heroism of its more successful counterparts but dishes out a raw and genuine portrayal of a group of soldiers on the run. There is no blatant display of brawn and heroic foolhardiness, rather there is an unspoken fear and a life-saving practicality which is more likely to happen when one is in enemy territory trying to escape death. Debutant director Amrit Sagar has done a great job despite his inexperience. His brother Akash Sagar who has composed the music has also come up with a brilliant score. The soundtrack is very much in keeping with the tone of the movie.

The movie has a cast that couldn’t have been more apt. With the exception of Manoj Bajpai and Ravi Kishan to some extent, the others like Dobriyal, Mishra, Giri and Kaul are relatively unknown. But their performances on screen are unmatchable. Piyush Mishra displays ample shades of a present day Guru Dutt within the small time that he is on screen. It was a treat watching him. If the movie had a Hrithik Roshan or a Shahrukh Khan in its cast probably it’d have been a hit, but how can HR or SRK ever be on the run from the enemy!

Drawing inspiration from The Great Escape (not completely though), 1971 could be compared with Kabul Express. The sound, music, locations and above all, the camera work are very similar. Both the movies boast of solid cinematography. When Hitchcock came up with his infamous ‘That’s not cinema, that’s photography’ line, perhaps he’d forgotten that such a word as cinematography exists.

The trailer of 1971 pales in comparison to the actual movie. Unlike The Dark Knight whose trailers ensured its success, this movie has been a flop in that department. A good movie sans glamour, style and heroines, it comes highly recommended. You can always watch skimpily clad girls and cigarette lighting gelled haired heroes; try watching the unshaven, unkempt, tired, unhandsome, almost dead men to get a feel of what real heroes look like.

Senator Barack Obama has secured the Presidency of the United States with a landslide 338-156 victory (with 44 Electoral votes to be assigned). His victory was announced and confirmed at 11:00 PM November 4th, 2008.

President-Elect Obama gave a speech in Grant Park in Chicago, Illinois to a crowd estimated at over 100,000 people. His message focused not on past glories, the hard fought campaign, or what we did. Rather, President-Elect Obama spoke in his eloquent manner about what we must do to continue the fight for a better America. A brighter America for our children.

As we were sitting and watching this history taking place, my wife said something profound and I’d like to share it with you. She said: “I get it know.” When I asked her what she meant, she said, “I finally understand what the people who supported John Kennedy felt when he was elected President. That feeling of hope and optimism. Things will get better.”

All I could do was nod in agreement. Things will get better, but it will be a tough road. As President-Elect Obama said, (and I am paraphrasing here), the real work starts now.

I want to shift gears here and talk a little about Senator John McCain. As Keith Olbermann said, ‘let’s call him the runner up,’ I can’t bring myself to call him a loser. Yes, he lost the campaign. Does this make him a loser? No.

Senator McCain did the right thing in giving a quick concession speech. Of course, this was a clear Obama victory, so any move McCain made would be seen as political suicide. In his speech, the John McCain of old, the knowledgeable, wise man whom I once held such great respect for, came once again to the surface. He was secure, I think, and happy, that the long and arduous fight was over.

In his concession speech, John McCain regained his humanity, and the courage to stop his followers from shouting nasty things or getting ugly. This is the John McCain I respected; the true Maverick of Washington.

I want to publicly thank John McCain for not dragging this country through the mud in a long drawn out process of litigation and Supreme Court rulings. It would’ve been bad for the country and I am glad and heartened that John McCain recognized that and graciously stepped aside when he did.

I’ve been critical of you, Senator McCain, and I apologize for the harsh words. It was a campaign, after all, and these things are done in a political campaign. Sure, I wasn’t exactly the front lines here, but my obvious support of Barack Obama was, I think, helping out the cause in some small way. I honestly don’t know if I changed anyone’s mind or not by what I wrote here. If I did, fantastic. If I didn’t, well that’s okay too.

Senator McCain, you are a classy man and a fine opponent.

The next four years will be difficult. None more difficult than the next few months when the changeover of power will occur and the swearing in ceremony. I will watch on TV and see the man I helped elect lead this country to new heights.

In retrospect, and by the numbers, this is what the 2008 Presidential Election means to me.

Barack Obama: He was born in 1961, three years before the landmark 1964 Civil Rights Act.
WonderGoon: I was born in 1971, 7 years after the landmark 1964 Civil Rights Act.
Barack Obama: He is 47 years old.
WonderGoon: I am 37 years old.
Barack Obama: He was born at a time when America had never heard of a place named Viet Nam.
WonderGoon: I was born at a time when America wished they’d never heard of a place named Viet Nam.

For me, these are striking numbers. Sure, they don’t mean squat to anyone else, but its interesting to note them for the fact that these numbers mean I feel a kinship with Barack Obama that goes deeper than party affiliation. We are of the same generation and that’s one reason, one of the main reasons why I supported him for President.

It brought home a sense that I can accomplish great things, too. In Barack Obama I see what America could be; it’s greatness restored on a world stage. “We can once again be a shining beacon of democracy for the world,” President-Elect Obama said in his acceptance speech.

In Barack Obama I see that shining light, that moral example, of how great this country once was, and could be again.

President-Elect Obama has given a lot of Americans hope. Hope that, we too, can have a better future, a brighter future, not only for us, but for our children, and their children as well.

And if you are one of those Americans who think that we Obama supporters signed your death warrant, all I can say to you is please give President Obama a chance to prove you wrong. I honestly believe that Obama was the best choice for the Presidency, and I hope that after a few months in office, you will see that things are looking up. And things will get better. Life, like politics, economics, etcetera, is cyclical. We’ve had a downturn. Soon, an upturn will occur. It’s the way of the universe. Just have patience and everything will be fine.

I know this is a rambling post, and I covered a lot of ground, but I felt I had to say these things. I felt the need to wax poetic, if you will, on the state of this country and the future we all share.

May whatever Gods and/or Goddesses you pray to bless you with prosperity and joy for all the days of your life.

Edited to add video of President-Elect Barack Obama’s victory speech.

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1) O Parmera:

Em 1947, era dado como certo o primeiro tricampeonato da triste história leonoresca. Seria o terceiro título paulista em três anos, mas o Verdão entrou em campo para rasgar as vestes da meretriz, aplicando-lhe um 4 x 3 e desmanchando seus sonhos.

Campeã paulista de 48 e 49, Madame chegava ao ano santo de 1950 novamente embalada e favorita ao título; mas teria de enfrentar e bater os Homens de Verde para conquistar a glória inédita do tricampeonato, e aí não deu… Em uma partida no Pacaembu que entrou para a História como “o Jogo da Lama” (devido à emoção da peleja e à forte chuva que esmerdeou o gramado, não graças a mais uma falcatrua do emo-clube), o Alviverde conquistaria seu segundo título do ano (conquistaria mais três, fechando as Cinco Coroas do ano santo).

Já na década de 70, Madame fez tudo direitinho: tinha um ditador de presidente, árbitros que eram coniventes com o poder público, por bem ou por mal, e ainda conseguiu transferir todos seus jogos importantes para o Privadão, que fica ali na chácara da esposa de Adhemar de Barros. E assim sagrou-se bicampeã paulista, nos anos de 70 e 71. E, em 1972, o clube bem-amado fazia uma campanha impecável, e chegou ao final do certame invicto: agora vinha o tri?

Bom, acontece que participava daquela disputa uma certa Academia, que estava tinindo, e que havia anotado uma campanha ainda mais irretocável. Na hora do “vamo vê”, sobraram os dois, invictos, e os Homens de Verde jogavam pelo empate. E foi com um clássico 0 x 0 que o Palestra novamente frearia os anseios da grande cortesã, sagrando-se campeão paulista.

Pulamos para a década de 90 quando, sob a liderança de um bonequinho de marquetíngue que vendia Danete, Madame obteve êxito em 91 e 92, abocanhando mais um bi Paulista. 1993 chegava com a promessa de levar para o Jd. Leonor a primeira honra de um tricampeonato. Nesse ano, porém, as meninas sucumbiriam diante do nosso rival nas semi-finais. Mas, por um capricho histórico, no ano onde novamente o tri não viria, o Palmeiras se sagraria campeão.

Quatro vezes. No cu dela.

Aí vieram as obsessões que a nossa geração já conhece: Madame bate o pé e afirma ser tricampeã mundial, mesmo a Fifa desautorizando, mesmo que ela compute nessa soma dois jogos na neve do Japão, às 9:00 da manhã, contra times mistos da Europa em pré-temporada. Em um deles, ganhou contra o Milan, que nem campeão europeu havia sido - estava lá somente para tapar o buraco do Olympique, pois o time francês acabara de ser banido de competições internacionais justamente por se comportar nos bastidores de uma maneira à la SPFW.

Ganharam, sim, três Leonores de América. Mas não foi na sequência e foi daquele jeitinho que já nos cansamos de mostrar, eliminando à fórceps seus concorrentes indesejáveis, como o Palestra, mais recentemente, por exemplo. Um torneio que nunca mereceu destaque algum na grande mídia, até que o mais querido conquistasse o primeiro triunfo.

Porque aqui, entre os nossos, onde o futebol é escrito com F maiúsculo e onde todos desprezam essa corja imunda, não conseguiram nenhum tri, não: sempre apareceu o Palestra Itália para restabelecer a ordem das coisas, sempre que foi necessário.

Por isso fiquei feliz domingo à noite, quando olhei a tabela. Agora sei que seremos campeões.

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2) A Putana:

*Se você passou hoje pelo blogue no Palhaço Juquinha, já deve ter visto essa: o chupa-ovo deixou um post maldoso ali, tirando sarro da condição etílica de Rubens Barrichello na festa que sucedeu aquela veadagem de F1. Sim, o P.J., o mesmo garoto de recados que teve de ligar para o resgate e precaver os paramédicos para que comparecessem com litros de glicose à sede da ESPN, após entrevista com J.J. Scotch Whiskey. Mas, sobre isso, você não vai ler uma linha lá.

*Palavras de José Roberto Wright, que, não por acaso, faz um biquinho nas páginas do Boletim de Madame: “Não acho que haja dolo ou complô por parte da Comissão Nacional de Arbitragem ou dos mesmos. A maior besteira que escuto seguidamente é que os apitadores querem ajudar os clubes de São Paulo. Quanta bobagem!“

Também acho, Wright. Afinal, o único time de sampa na disputa é o Verdão, que tem sido seguidamente prejudicado. Santos e Lusa estão se afogando, o rivale nem está entre nós e aquele time genérico (por todo canto do mundo há um time de elite, que joga sujo e que todos rejeitam) poderia ter surgido em qualquer lugar onde as liberdades individuais de um povo fossem suprimidas.

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3) O cabeçudinho:

É tanta falta de cultura que nem sei se vale a pena responder a esse parasita sem talento. Diria que o comentário da leitora Mi é mais que suficiente para reduzir à insignificância o caráter do filho do camelô midiático. Mas vou deixar aqui pequenas considerações; assim, da próxima vez que ele for tentar ser mal-educado com um torcedor que lhe apresenta argumentos, pelo menos não vai passar o vexame de se mostrar um ignorante que só está onde está porque o papai tem dinheiro.

* Em primeiro lugar, se fosse realmente preciso, pegaríamos em armas, sim. Nossos antepassados fizeram isso para defender os constitucionalistas de 32, pelo simples fato de que queriam ser vistos como brasileiros, queriam ser aceitos pelo próprio povo… Entre outras coisas, não queriam ver um verme sem cultura e sem história como você vir vomitar esse tipo de merda 80 anos depois.

* Outra coisa, orlandinho: a Academia foi prejudicada, e muito. O time da ditadura militar, aquele para o qual papai te ensinou a torcer porque “é uma grande moleza”, garfou o título de 71 quando o sr. Armando Marques anulou gol legítimo de Leivinha, com medo do governador biônico que estava sentado no banco de reservas e era presidente da Boutique. Nem isso você sabe, marginal…

Vai estudar, vagabundo!

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It is not Pakistan’s destiny to be an enemy of India. But there is no doubt in my mind that the Indian ruling establishment [whatever that means] is determined to continue being Pakistan’s enemy, whenever they can. They will intervene to increase our misery when the time is right, like they did in 1971, when it had nothing to do with them.  They will block our water when we are facing a food crunch, like now. And they will seize chaos to move in and strike us where it hurts, like they are doing today in Afghanistan, which has become a base for exporting terrorism into Pakistan.

The Indian excels in doublespeak. The Indian government keeps telling the gullible Pakistani leaders that “a stable Pakistan is in India’s interest”. The main purpose of this sales pitch is to convince Islamabad that India is not training terrorists in Afghanistan and sending them to Pakistan.  But every now and then an honest Indian comes along to burst the bubble and tell the truth. One such Indian is Mr. Bharat Verma, the editor of the New Delhi-based Indian Defense Review.

He has written an honest piece, Stable Pakistan not in India’s interest, where he tells it like it is. The only place he errs is where he pompously condemns India’s generosity in “permitting” a Muslim state on its western border.

Of course he forgets that his people have by and large been the slaves of Pakistanis’ ancestors who ruled the region for almost ten centuries, plus the almost two centuries that Mr. Verma’s people spent under the British. Pakistan is a historical continuation and is no one’s gift. But for the sake of argument, there would not be India today if not for the British, who made it possible by ending the reign of Muslim India, or Greater Pakistan. In contrast, Pakistan would still have existed, in some shape or form, as a continuation of a long history.

Such information must always be on our minds while reading for Indian writers such Mr. Verma and the many other Indians who have been allowed to write freely in Pakistani newspapers. It is unfortunate because I am yet to see any Indian newspaper allowing a Pakistani writer on its pages, unless of course the said Pakistani writer was either criticizing Pakistan or conforming to the Indian worldview.

I thank Mr. Wasiullah Zafar for providing us the link.  Do read this piece if you get the time to understand the real Indian psyche, the one that hides behind the endless rounds of peace talks between Pakistan and India.

Ahmed Quraishi

Islamabad, Pakistan.

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Stable Pakistan Not in India’s Interest

By Bharat Verma

Indians pose the biggest threat to the union of India. The reason is simple. An average Indian does not constitute a nation but is merely an individual. His personal well-being overrides all other considerations including the national interests.

Therefore, many have begun to propagate parting of Kashmir in their write-ups, since it does not belong individually to them. However, imagine the hue and cry if their personal property and family is held hostage by the terrorists. They will sing a different tune!

The blame lies with New Delhi. For the past sixty years, instead of consolidating the Union, leaders encouraged divisiveness on the basis of religion and caste for sheer vote bank politics. Instead of unifying its citizenry with good governance and increasing their stakes through prosperity, so that they may serve the cause of the nation with honor, it has treated its citizens with unprecedented shabbiness. The result is groups of citizens have risen against the state, mostly for lack of economic progress and denial of justice. Such disgruntled groups are being taken advantage of by the external forces inimical to India.

There can never be unity in diversity. Unity requires a fair amount of uniformity in laws throughout the Union.

That New Delhi is its own enemy became obvious, when it permitted the creation of a pure Islamic State on its borders. This nation-state contradicts every democratic and multi-cultural values dear to India.

Therefore, if New Delhi has not slept a wink since the creation of Pakistan, it has no one except itself to blame!

Islamabad, besides the wars it imposed on New Delhi, extended its so-called Islamic purity to the Kashmir Valley by instigating the locals to carry out ethnic cleansing of the minority communities.

Hence, first we created a state with inbuilt characteristic of fundamentalism, and extreme philosophy contrary to our professed beliefs; then the monster in it started ethnic cleansing in the Valley; and engineered demographic changes through Bangladesh in West Bengal, Assam and the Northeast. Saudi Arabia and other Islamic oil-rich countries pitched in with the petro-dollars in support. All in the cause of the illusion called Ummah and establishing the Caliphate!

The Indian leadership for its personal vote-bank gains helped these inimical forces by bringing the IMDT in Assam. Later, it was slammed as illegal by the Supreme Court. Too late - the damage was done, as the Union’s overburdened security forces, grapple with 15 million illegal Bangladesh infiltrators creating mayhem in the society.

Islamabad, Dhaka, and now Kathmandu, spurred on by  Beijing, have united with the singular agenda to unhook the Valley and the Northeast from the Union. In addition, they are instigating the Maoists who control almost forty percent of the Union’s territory, to set up a parallel government, and ultimately, like the Maoists in Nepal, win the elections in pockets of their influence, and impose a regressive authoritarian governments in tune with their own regime. Simple. Brilliant. And yet, New Delhi, instead of consolidating and unifying the Union, continues to divide its citizenry in religious or caste denominations.

In the past sixty years, New Delhi’s muddle-headed policies encouraged separatism.

Instead of ensuring diffusion of secular pan-Indian culture, and integration of the society by encouraging Indians from all over to buy and develop land and industry in the Valley and the Northeast, it imposed restrictions on such settlements. Meanwhile, Pakistan and Bangladesh exported their fundamentalist populations to change the demographic hues in their interest. The ugly separatist face of the agitation in the Valley today is the consequence of the dereliction of the fundamental duty by the Union.

The trend needs to be reversed forcibly by integrating the Valley firmly into the Indian mainstream by creating a secular mix of population through industrialisation.

Many conveniently propose the myth that a stable Pakistan is in India’s interest. This is a false proposition.

The truth is that Pakistan is bad news for the Indian Union since 1947-stable or otherwise.

It is factually correct that Islamabad has enjoyed brief periods of stability in the span of sixty years of its existence. However, during these phases of stability, it continued to export terrorism, fake currency, narcotics, and indulged in attempts to change demographics on our borders, cultivated sleeper cells and armed groups inside our territory to create an uprising at an appropriate time. Also, it aligned with Beijing and other powers, in a mutually beneficial scheme, to tie-down and ultimately cause a territorial split of the Union.

With Pakistan on the brink of collapse due to massive internal as well as international contradictions, it is matter of time before it ceases to exist.

Multiple benefits will accrue to the Union of India on such demise.

If ever the national interests are defined with clarity and prioritised, the foremost threat to the Union (and for centuries before) materialised on the western periphery, continuously. To defend this key threat to the Union, New Delhi should extend its influence through export of both, soft and hard power towards Central Asia from where invasions have been mounted over centuries.  Cessation of Pakistan as a state facilitates furtherance of this pivotal national objective.

The self-destructive path that Islamabad chose will either splinter the state into many parts or it will wither away-a case of natural progression to its logical conclusion. In either case Baluchistan will achieve independence. For New Delhi this opens a window of opportunity to ensure that the Gwadar port does not fall into the hands of the Chinese. In this, there is synergy between the political objectives of the Americans and the Indians. Our existing goodwill in Baluchistan requires intelligent leveraging.

Sindh and most of the non-Punjabi areas of Pakistan will be our new friends.

Pakistan’s breakup will be a major setback to the Jihad Factory, as the core of this is located in Pakistan, and functions with the help of its army and the ISI. This in turn will ease pressures on India and the international community.

With China’s one arm, i.e. Pakistan disabled, its expansionist plans will receive a severe jolt. Beijing continues to pose primary threat to New Delhi. Even as we continue to engage with it as constructively as possible, we must strive to remove the proxy. At the same time, it is prudent to extend moral support to the people of Tibet to sink Chinese expansionism in the morass of insurgency.

For a change, let us do to them what they do to us!

The chances of Central Asia getting infected with the Jihadi fervour will recede. Afghanistan will gain fair amount of stability. India’s access to Central Asian energy routes will open up. With disintegration of ISI’s inimical activities of infiltration and pushing of fake currency into India, from Nepal and Bangladesh will cease. Within the Union social harmony will improve enormously. Export of Islamic fundamentalism, with its 360-degree sweep from Islamabad, will vanish. Even a country like Thailand will heave a sigh of relief!

Above all, the gathering storm of threat from a united group of authoritarian regimes along our 14,000 km borders, orchestrated and synchronised by Pakistan will dissolve.

At the height of the recent disturbances in the Valley, when a general asked me for a suggestion to resolve the issue, I said: “Remove Pakistan. The threat will disappear permanently.”  Today the collapse of Pakistan as a state is almost certain. All the King’s men cannot save it from itself.

Looking ahead, New Delhi should formulate an appropriate strategy for ‘post-Pakistan scenario’ to secure India’s interests in Central Asia.

It is intriguing, therefore, to hear New Delhi mouthing the falsehood that stable Pakistan is in India’s interest. Perpetuation of such illogic for vote-bank politics is harming consolidation and integration of the Union. Short-sighted politicians as usual are overlooking the national interest for the short-term personal gains of few votes!

Bharat Verma, Editor Indian Defence Review

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A partir da esq.: Ângelo Giordano, os filhos Giuseppe, Rosina (Tia Rosa), Enrico e Carmela, e a matriarca Angiolina Guerrini

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1971, um ano que o bom Palestrino não esquece. A vergonha maior da arbitragem no futebol brasileiro seria registrada na final daquele campeonato nacional. A história já foi contada e recontada nessa Mídia Verde, portanto bastam hoje três palavras para encaixar o leitor nesse contexto histórico: Leivinha, Armando, Ditadura. Só isso.

Mas, para uma família de fanáticos Palestrinos, descendentes de originários do sul da Bota, esses dias marcariam o início de um sonho. 1971 foi o ano em que os netos de Ângelo e Carmela (foto) decidiram tomar as rédeas de seu destino aqui no Brasil.

Morando desde sempre no glorioso Cambuci, que tantos oriundi abrigou em sua história, quiseram arriscar sua sorte no mesmo bairro, abrindo uma mercearia perto de casa. Coisa pequena, tocada pelos netos do patriarca (Giuseppe, Ângelo, Mario e Helena), sempre sob o olhar cuidadoso da mãe, Rosina Blasi. Vendiam ali mantimentos de emergência para os conhecidos da região, como toda mercearia de bairro.

Acontece que ali, quem conhece, sabe: é tutti buona gente, os clientes não conseguiam refazer a despensa e ir embora; era entrar lá e começar uma conversa gostosa que, aos sábados, poderia levar uma tarde inteira. Assim, a cervejinha no balcão virou negócio inevitável. E, italianos que eram, logo a loirinha, trincando, já vinha acompanhada de uma sugestiva sardela, de um antepasto, de uma alichela. Em pouco tempo de vida, a mercearia já vivia repleta de amigos que se encontravam no ponto da família Blasi para jogar conversa fora e terminar mais um dia de lavoro na companhia dos seus.

Dona Rosina, ou simplesmente Tia Rosa, acompanhava com zelo o progresso dos filhos e via com bons olhos aquele movimento. Como tinha uma mão magistral para cozinhar, decidiu incrementar aquele negócio de família: deu de fazer uma bela feijoada aos sábados e oferecê-la aos clientes que marcavam ponto na mercearia.

Daí para o sucesso foi um pulo: a pequena venda, mesmo com as duas ou três mesinhas da calçada, não comportava mais seu público. Durante a “febre da feijuca”, que se alastrou pelas bocas do bairro, a fila na porta do comércio, na Heitor Peixoto, formava um cordão humano até a esquina da rua Mesquita. Como todo nobre italiano que aqui aportou, aquela bela família havia conquistado o coração de todas as raças. E como era caprichosa (como todo italiano pelo mundo), Rosina queria atender a todos cozinhando com esmero.

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Nos tempos da mercearia: Maria Teresa (esposa de Mário), os filhos Helena e Mário Blasi com a mãe, Rosina

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Foi desse modo, aos poucos e de repente, que surgiu a cantina Tia Rosa. Sua feijoada de sábado é ainda como era: uma das mais absurdas da cidade, saborosa e sem frescuras. Mas o que Rosina queria mesmo era voltar às raízes e incrementar a cozinha com a culinária de seus antepassados, a comida da Basilicata, pertinho do Mediterrâneo. Logo vieram suas massas, de todo tipo e sem igual. Ganhou aplausos com seu risoto de lula e conquistou reconhecimento com sua perna de cabrito.

“Ainda é a melhor de São Paulo”, diz com orgulho o hoje sexagenário filho Mário, recordando o triunfo da mãe Rosina, enquanto me mostra matérias elogiosas feitas por jornais e revistas, em diferentes épocas.

Mas o melhor ainda estava por vir. Palestrinos doentes que eram, Ângelo, Giuseppe e Mário não arredavam pé do Jardim Suspenso, estavam lá sempre que podiam assistir um treino. Logo se tornaram “figurinhas carimbadas” entre aqueles que corriam atrás do autógrafo de seu ídolo (e olha que, naquele tempo, ídolo era outra coisa no Palestra). Foi assim, entre um “Vocês de novo?” e um “Vai lá na nossa cantina”, que Ademir da Guia começou a frequentar a casa.

Divino gostou e levou Dudu, que levou Leivinha, que levou César Maluco, que não saía mais de lá. Mas esse gostava mesmo de uma bela pratada de rabada, ou dobradinha. Na falta dessas iguarias, o atacante mandava pro gol o tanto que houvesse de feijão com arroz na cozinha, somente isso, conta Mário. Nas paredes da cantina ainda você encontra uma foto rara, a formação no gramado do Corinthinhas de Vila Monumento, esquadra amadora para a qual César Maluco oferecia seus instintos de matador por diversão.

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O bom humor e criatividade recobrem as paredes de madeira do Tia Rosa

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Esse ponto de encontro Palestrino poderia ser descrito como um pequeno salão aconchegante, onde a gente se sente na sala de casa, jantando com a família. Mas isso só é verdade até que você começa a olhar em volta e percebe o toque de surrealismo que orna o ambiente…

A começar pelas mesas, que têm um taxímetro pendurado, não me perguntem por quê. Daqueles antigões, mesmo. Sei que é coisa de Ângelo, que era artista plástico e amante de arte conceitual. Mas é coisa de maluco: uma saída d’água protegida por uma portinha metálica avisa que é para abri-la em caso de incêndio. O sujeito curioso que não resiste, no entanto, acha lá dentro somente uma bica, uma torneirinha dessas que se implantam em garrafões de pinga. Em uma coluna no centro do salão, há um quadro em branco com um compasso escolar fincado no centro; junto a porta, um quadro de 1 m², todo verde e escrito “O Tia Rosa doa 1m² de área verde para a cidade“.

Loucura essa que só perde para o aspecto de “museu de um tudo” que preenche o espaço; objetos que os irmãos foram colecionando durante a vida e que estão expostos pela casa. Há desde um aparelho de barba movido à corda (que funciona), passando por rádios de válvulas exóticos e Olivettis intactas, do tempo do onça, e culminando com uma máquina fotográfica que seu avô trouxe da sua Marcicomouvo, quando emigrou da região de Potenza.

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Ademir no salão do Tia Rosa, com o filho de Mário, no começo da década passada

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O mestre Dudu é outro fã da casa dos irmãos Blasi. Ao seu lado está Mário, o irmão que hoje recebe e atende os clientes

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Eu ainda diria que a cereja do bolo é o “pay-per-view” do Brasileirão, que você pode assistir em qualquer uma das três TVs, todas antigas, como convém. E quando sai gol do Verde, Mário atira as bandejas ao chão, mesmo que não esteja servindo alguém: nesse caso, ele vai até o balcão, pega algumas e joga com força ao pé das mesas, só para manter a tradição e dar aquela sorte.

Se você não conhece o lugar, não perca a chance… Porque tudo nessa vida se perde em um piscar de olhos, e ali você almoça conhecimento, janta História. Hoje, restaram apenas Mário Blasi, para contá-la, e sua irmã Helena, que a tempera com os segredos aprendidos na cozinha da mãe e que nunca deixou cair a qualidade dos pratos. A eterna Academia, inclusive, recomenda: não é muito raro encontrar por lá um craque do passado matando a saudade do sabor d’Itália.

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PERAÍ, CRUZ!!! ISSO TÁ ME CHEIRANDO A JABACULÊ…

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Bom, e que catzo esperava o amico?! Continuar dedicando o tempo necessário para deixar essa página sempre pertinente, prestando um serviço ao Palestrino que nos visita, requer um pouco mais do que paixão, na minha idade. Seria preciso correr atrás desse tipo de parceria, mais cedo ou mais tarde - e sinto muito orgulho pelo fato do nosso primeiro padrinho trazer as coisas da Bota consigo, além de ser um reduto Verde que frequento há tanto tempo.

Elaborei portanto mais que uma chamada comercial, contando uma bela e verdadeira história de vida, que ganhará uma página especial, em homenagem a quem confiou na gente. E, claro, em respeito aos nossos leitores, que merecem ser bem tratados quando passam por aqui.

Gostou desse formato de anúncio?

Porque gostaríamos muito de ter mais empreendedores Palestrinos nesse espaço Verde. Nossa frequência é boa e, principalmente, nosso leitor tem bom gosto!

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Cantina Tia Rosa. Rua Heitor Peixoto, 728, Cambuci. Fone: 2914-9771. Preço médio: R$ 18,00 p.p.

Citando o Cruz de Savóia, a primeira cerveja Premium (grande) é por conta da casa!

Number 508

Tim Buckley

“Song to Siren”

(1971)
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Genre:Folk Rock

art by xMDOMMx

I now know why “proper” writers of websites hate blogs so much. It’s not that they hate the bloggers, its because we cheat using already made html assisted programmes. After 1.5 years of doing “Definitive 1000″ I thought it would be time for this web page to go out on its own IE: www.crowbarred.com After all, I thought I was at the stage of understand and feeling confident about html, sort of like Neo in “The Matrix” …..”I know kung fu” So yours truly had a bash at writing my very own site and guess what …. yup not only failed but the words you so often see on the net .. Epic Failure. What we do here in blog land and what they do in web html designing are two different worlds. Their world is complex, meticulous, laborious, with eye for detail. They slave over every scripted word, dot & symbol. Sadly, I have found out my world now to be lazy. (but its all I’ve got .. for now) So its back to school for me, ground floor, wearing a dunce hat for a few months till i nut it out. So be it.

Jeff Buckley’s music is a personal favourite of mine and listening to his father has the same comparison as a John Lennon & Julian Lennon but it is my view that Jeff was the better singer than his father, but as we all know that was only made possible because of Tim .

14.02.47 to 29.06.75

One of the great rock vocalists of the 1960s, Tim Buckley drew from folk, psychedelic rock, and progressive jazz to create a considerable body of adventurous work in his brief lifetime. His multi-octave range was capable of not just astonishing power, but great emotional expressiveness, swooping from sorrowful tenderness to anguished wailing. His restless quest for new territory worked against him commercially: By the time his fans had hooked into his latest album, he was onto something else entirely, both live and in the studio. In this sense he recalled artists such as Miles Davis and David Bowie, who were so eager to look forward and change that they confused and even angered listeners who wanted more stylistic consistency. However, his eclecticism has also ensured a durable fascination with his work that has engendered a growing posthumous cult for his music, often with listeners who were too young (or not around) to appreciate his music while he was active.

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The fragile, melancholic, orchestrated beauty of the material had an innocent quality that was dampened only slightly on the second LP, Goodbye and Hello (1967). Buckley’s songs and arrangements became more ambitious and psychedelic, particularly on the lengthy title track. This was also his only album to reach the Top 200, where it only peaked at number 171; Buckley was always an artist who found his primary constituency among the underground, even for his most accessible efforts. His third album, Happy Sad, found him going in a decidedly jazzier direction in both his vocalizing and his instrumentation, introducing congas and vibes. Though it seemed a retreat from commercial considerations at the time, Happy Sad actually concluded the triumvirate of recordings that are judged to be his most accessible.

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The truth was, by the late ’60s Buckley was hardly interested in folk-rock at all. He was more intrigued by jazz; not only soothing modern jazz (as heard on the posthumous release of acoustic 1968 live material, Dream Letter), but also its most avant-garde strains. His songs became much more oblique in structure, and skeletal in lyrics, especially when the partnership with Larry Beckett was ruptured after the latter’s induction into the Army. Some of his songs abandoned lyrics almost entirely, treating his voice itself as an instrument, wordlessly contorting, screaming, and moaning, sometimes quite cacophonously. In this context, Lorca was viewed by most fans and critics not just as a shocking departure, but a downright bummer. No longer was Buckley a romantic, melodic poet; he was an experimental artiste who sometimes seemed bent on punishing both himself and his listeners with his wordless shrieks and jarringly dissonant music.

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Almost as if to prove that he was still capable of gentle, uplifting jazzy pop-folk, Buckley issued Blue Afternoon around the same time. Bizarrely, Blue Afternoon and Lorca were issued almost simultaneously, on different labels. While an admirable demonstration of his versatility, it was commercial near-suicide, each album canceling the impact of the other, as well as confusing his remaining fans. Buckley found his best middle ground between accessibility and jazzy improvisation on 1970’s Starsailor, which is probably the best showcase of his sheer vocal abilities, although many prefer the more cogent material of his earliest albums.
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Buckley’s life came to a sudden end in the middle of 1975, when he died of a heroin overdose just after completing a tour. Those close to him insist that he had been clean for some time and lament the loss of an artist who, despite some recent failures, still had much to offer. Buckley’s stock began to rise among the rock underground after the Cocteau Twins covered his “Song for the Siren” in the 1980s. The posthumous releases of two late-’60s live sets (Dream Letter and Live at the Troubadour 1969) in the early ’90s also boosted his profile, as well as unveiling some interesting previously unreleased compositions. His son Jeff Buckley went on to mount a musical career as well before his own tragic death in 1997. ~ [Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide]

For John Lennon see Number 639

For Julian Lennon see Number 798

For David Bowie see Number 634 & #513

What does Rolling Stone think of Tim Buckley?

When he died in 1975 of a heroin overdose, Tim Buckley left behind nine albums in nine years, all of them commercial duds. Yet it’s possible to trace a straight line from Buckley’s soul-excavating excursions through the work of Patti Smith, U2, Radiohead and his own estranged son, the late Jeff Buckley. Tim Buckley’s best-known ballad was “Song to the Siren,” and that haunted masterpiece alone justifies the existence of Morning Glory: The Tim Buckley Anthology, though “Siren” was hardly typical of his career. If anything, this two-disc retrospective makes apparent why Buckley had such a tough time selling records: Each album brought a new sound, and the singer never quite figured out the difference between artistic daring and overblown self-indulgence. In his early songs, Buckley suggested an Elizabethan troubadour straitjacketed by overly formal lyrics, but with 1967’s “Pleasant Street,” an anguished aggression took hold. Soon this prim California folkie began to experiment with atmospheric jazz voicings in a way that rivaled Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks. Buckley is at his most riveting in less grandiose settings; live versions of “I’ve Been Out Walking” and “Troubadour” showcase the joyous elasticity of his four-octave range. He experimented to the end, sometimes brilliantly (the Yoko Ono-like screamfest “Monterey”), sometimes to his enduring embarrassment (the Rocky Horror-esque S&M of “Make It Right”), but always with a consequences-be-damned conviction. [Source: RS 865 GREG KOT]

For U2 see Number 661

For more U2 visit Mellow Mix Vol 1#129 & #038

For Radiohead see Number 640

For more Radiohead visit Mellow Mix Vol 1 #137

For Van Morrison see Number 987

Lyrics to the song

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