miércoles, diciembre 21, 2011

Antes que este buen 2011 culmine y nos caiga el fin del mundo, acaba de salir mi tercer libro:"Mishky Stories", bajo el sello de IncertidumbrEditores.


Son 23 microficciones en formato de bolsillo (15 cm x 10 cm). Algunas han sido publicadas en este blog, otras en revistas y antologías, además de las que siempre se quedaron en word y esperaban este libro para existir.


La ilustración de la portada estuvo a cargo de Calitox Lavida, solo que esta vez se eligió sobre material suyo previamente publicado.


Agradecimiento al editor Pato por la paciencia y los weos pa' sacar este tipo de rarezas.


Próximamente estaré anunciando la presentación, por lo pronto los puntos de venta en Trujillo son:


Librería Infolectura del Centro Cultural Los Tallanes (Jr. San Martín 455)


Librería Trujillo Lee (Jr. Bolognesi 387)


y pedidos al movistar:


949 506737

martes, diciembre 20, 2011



All alone,
It was always there you see.
And even on my own,
It was always standing next to me.

I can see it coming from the edge of the room.
Creeping in the streetlight.
Holding my hand in the pale gloom.
Can you see it coming now?

AAaaAAhhh...
I think I'm breaking down again...
AAaaAAhhh...
I think I'm breaking down...

All alone,
Even when I was a child,
I've always known,
There was something to be frightened of
And I can see it coming from the edge of the room.
Creeping in the streetlight.
Holding my hand in the pale gloom.
Can you see it coming now?

AAaaAAhhh...
I think I'm breaking down again...
AAaaAAhhh...
I think I'm breaking down...

All alone,
On the edge of sleep,
My old familiar friend
Comes and lies down next to me.

And I can see it coming from the edge of the room.
Smiling in the streetlight.
Even with my eyes shut tight,
I still see it coming now.

AAaaAAhhh...
I think I'm breaking down again...
AAaaAAhhh...
I think I'm breaking down again...
AAaaAAhhh...
I think I'm breaking down again...
AAaaAAhhh...
I think I'm breaking down...

viernes, diciembre 16, 2011

Dum, dum, dum, honey what have you done?
Dum, dum, dum it's the sound of my gun.
Dum, dum, dum, honey what have you done?
Dum, dum, dum it's the sound

Janie's got a gun
Janie's got a gun
Her whole world's come undone
From lookin' straight at the sun
What did her daddy do?
What did he put you through?
They said when Janie was arrested
they found him underneath a train
But man, he had it comin' Now that Janie's got a gun
she ain't never gonna be the same.

Janie's got a gun
Janie's got a gun
Her dog day's just begun
Now everybody is on the run
Tell me now it's untrue.
What did her daddy do?
He jacked a little bitty baby
The man has got to be insane
They say the spell that he was under the lightning and the
thunder knew that someone had to stop the rain

Run away, run away from the pain yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Run away run away from the pain yeah yeah
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Run away, run away, run, run away

Janie's got a gun
Janie's got a gun
Her dog day's just begun
Now everybody is on the run
What did her daddy do?
It's Janie's last I.O.U.
She had to take him down easy and put a bullet in his brain
She said 'cause nobody believes me. The man was such a sleeze.
He ain't never gonna be the same.

Run away, run away from the pain yeah, yeah
yeah yeah yeah
Run away run away from the pain yeah yeah
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Run away, run away, run, run away

Janie's got a gun
Janie's got a gun
Janie's got a gun
Everybody is on the run

Janie's got a gun
Her dog day's just begun
Now everybody is on the run
Because Janie's got a gun
Janie's got a gun
Her dog day's just begun
Now everybody is on the run
Janie's got a gun

miércoles, diciembre 14, 2011




You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now ... here he comes!

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young

Can we climb this mountain
I don't know
Higher now than ever before
I know we can make it if we take it slow
Let's take it easy
Easy now, watch it go

We're burning down the highway skyline
On the back of a hurricane that started turning
When you were young
When you were young

And sometimes you close your eyes
and see the place where you used to live
When you were young

They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet
You don't have to drink right now
But you can dip your feet
Every once in a little while

You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now here he comes

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young
(He talks like a gentlemen, like you imagined when)
When you were young

I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But more than you'll ever know

domingo, diciembre 11, 2011

I'm down a one way street
With a one night stand
With a one track mind
Out in no man's land
The punishment sometimes
Don't seem to fit the crime

Yeah there's a hole in my soul
But one thing I've learned
For every love letter written
There's another one burned
So you tell me how it's gonna be this time

Is it over?
Is it over?
'Cause I'm blowin' out the flame

Take a walk outside your mind
Tell me how it feels to be
The one who turns
The knife inside of me

Take a look and you will find
There's nothing there, girl
Yeah I swear, I'm telling you, girl yeah 'cause

(Chorus)
There's a Hole In My Soul
That's been killing me forever
It's a place where a garden never grows
There's a Hole In My Soul
Yeah, I should have known better
'Cause your love's like a thorn without a rose
Yeah, yeah

I'm as dry as a seven year drought
I got dust for tears
Yeah I'm all tapped out
Sometimes I feel broken and can't get fixed

I know there's been all kinds of shoes
Underneath your bed
Now I sleep with my boots on
But you're still in my head
And something tells me this time
I'm down to my last licks

'Cause if it's over
Then it's over
And it's driving me insane

Take a walk outside your mind
Tell me how it feels to be
The one who turns
The knife inside of me
Take a look and you will find
There's nothing there, girl, yeah, I swear
I'm telling you girl yeah 'cause

(Chorus)

Yeah, is it over?
Yeah, it's over
And I'm blowing out the flame

Take a walk outside your mind
Tell me how it feels to be
The one who turns
The knife inside of me
Take a look and you will find
There's nothing there, girl, yeah, I swear
I'm telling you girl yeah 'cause

(Chorus)

Oh, oh...

(Good night taj...good night Chelsie!)

jueves, diciembre 08, 2011




God is a concept
By which we measure
Our pain
I'll say it again
God is a concept
By which we measure
Our pain

I don't believe in magic
I don't believe in I-Ching
I don't believe in Bible
I don't believe in tarot
I don't believe in Hitler
I don't believe in Jesus
I don't believe in Kennedy
I don't believe in Buddha
I don't believe in mantra
I don't believe in Gita
I don't believe in yoga
I don't believe in kings
I don't believe in Elvis
I don't believe in Zimmerman
I don't believe in Beatles
I just believe in me
Yoko and me
And that's reality

The dream is over
What can I say?
The dream is over
Yesterday
I was the dream weaver
But now I'm reborn
I was the Walrus
But now I'm John
And so dear friends
You just have to carry on
The dream is over

jueves, diciembre 01, 2011



WAKE UP



Somethin' filled up
my heart with nothin',
someone told me not to cry.

But now that I'm older,
my heart's colder,
and I can see that it's a lie.

Children wake up,
hold your mistake up,
before they turn the summer into dust.

If the children don't grow up,
our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.
We're just a million little gods causin' rain storms turnin' every good thing to
rust.

I guess we'll just have to adjust.

With my lightnin' bolts a glowin'
I can see where I am goin' to be
when the reaper he reaches and touches my hand.

With my lightnin' bolts a glowin'
I can see where I am goin’
With my lightnin' bolts a glowin'
I can see where I am, go-go, where I am

You'd better look out below

martes, noviembre 22, 2011

Sol Sim Do Re

Intro: sol sim Do Re


Primera parte:

Sol Sim Do Re

Sufro lagunas constantes

Sol Sim Do Re

producto de excesos de alcohol

Sol Sim Do Re

abuso de algunos calmantes


Coro:(mismos acordes)

Por que me olvido el mañana,

por que me olvido el mañana


Segunda parte:(mismos acordes)

Deja tu nombre anotado,

anota también tu dirección,

el tema q hemos tratado


Otra vez coro


Tercera parte: (mismos acordes)

No se bien si en verdad buscas,

quien me va encontrar

quien me va encontrar

y maldigo aun destino gris
al cual nunca vi
al cual nunca vi

Es q resulta evidente
Que no importa el mañana,
que no me importa el mañana

jueves, noviembre 17, 2011

I get high when I see you go by
My oh my.
When you sigh, my, my insides just fly,Butterfly.
Why am I so shy when I'm beside you?

It's only love and that is all,
Why should I feel the way I do?
It's only love, and that is all,
But it's so hard loving you.

Is it right that you and I should fight
Every night?
Just the sight of you makes nighttime bright,
Very bright.
Haven't I the right to make it up girl?

It's only love and that is all,
Why should I feel the way I do?
It's only love, and that is all
But it's so hard loving you
Yes it's so hard loving you -- loving you.

miércoles, noviembre 16, 2011

Nobody feels any pain

Tonight as I stand inside the rain

Ev'rybody knows

That Baby's got new clothes

But lately I see her ribbons and her bows

Have fallen from her curls

She takes just like a woman, yes she does

She makes love just like a woman, yes she does

And she aches just like a woman

But she breaks just like a little girl.


Queen Mary, she's my friend

Yes, I believe I'll go see her again

Nobody has to guess

That Baby can't be blessed

Till she finally sees that she's like all the rest

With her fog, her amphetamine and her pearls

She takes just like a woman, yes she does

She makes love just like a woman, yes she does

And she aches just like a woman

But she breaks just like a little girl.


It's was raining from the first

And I was dying there of thirst

So I came in here

And your long-time curse hurts

But what's worse

Is this pain in here

I can't stay in hereAin't it clear that.


I just can't fit

Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit

When we meet again

Introduced as friends

Please don't let on that you knew me when

I was hungry and it was your world

Ah, you fake just like a woman, yes you do

You make love just like a woman, yes you do

Then you ache just like a woman

But you break just like a little girl.

domingo, noviembre 13, 2011

WOOHOO!
WOOHOO!
WOOHOO!
WOOHOO!

I got my head checked
By a jumbo jet
It wasn't easy
But nothing is,
No -

WOOHOO!
When I feel heavy metal WOOHOO!
And I'm pins and I'm needles WOOHOO!
Well I lie and I'm easy
All of the time but I'm never sure why I need you
Pleased to meet you!

I got my head done
When I was young
It's not my problem
It's not my - problem -

WOOHOO!
When I feel heavy metal WOOHOO!
And I'm pins and I'm needles WOOHOO!
Well I lie and I'm easy
All of the time but I'm never sure why I need you
Pleased to meet you!

Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Oh, yeah

martes, noviembre 01, 2011




"BRILLANTE COMUNICADOR"


Hace unos años, creo que en el 2008, mi hermana me contó cuando llegué a casa que le había vendido un Cuentos pa' Kemarse a un señor que se presentó como Blasco Bazán.

A mí eso me pareció bacán porque sabía que ese tío era, sino el único, uno de los pocos recopiladores de Literatura de la región; además de ser de los primeros bloggers en su generación (¿habrá algún otro?).

Una vez no sé cómo pero me terminé llevando de la jato de un pata su libro "Literatura liberteña: Vida y obra de las letras de La Libertad - siglos XVIII, XIX y XX" (1999). Un compendio muy detallado con biografías ordenadas cronológicamente sobre escritores de esta zona o que la hicieron por estos lares, el cual me sirvió para el curso de Literatura Regional en la UNT.

No existen muchos autores dedicados a indagar en el pasado, el presente y obviamente el futuro de la "Literatura Liberteña", entonces esta labor de por sí es destacable. Creo que solo Blasco Bazán y Saniel Lozano, este último tirado más hacia la crítica.

Por ello, el que me haya considerado en su "Primer Diccionario de Escritores de la Región La Libertad" (2011) me toma por sorpresa; ya que después de haber comprado mi libro, me pidió unos datos vía mail y de allí nunca más nos volvimos a comunicar. Pueden encontrar mi nombre en la página 19:

"DEL ROSARIO LOZANO GONZALO ALONSO, nació en Trujillo, La Libertad, el 23 de enero de 1986. Hijo de José Del Rosario Aliaga y Ana María Lozano Quiroz. Brillante comunicador. Obras: En prosa Cuentos pa' quemarse (sic)"

Habría que actualizar los datos un poco y poner correctamente el título, pero igual creo que los más entusiasmados fueron mis padres, quienes asistieron a la presentación para luego enterarse que su hijo aparecía por allí.

Lo bacán es que también he podido encontrar a amigos y conocidos como Oscar Ramirez, Ricardo Calderón Inca, Victoria Larco, Denisse Vega, Matilde Granados, Karina Bocanegra, Carlos Santamaría y Mauricio Málaga, los cuales tampoco figuraban en aquel primer libro. Así como un listado con grupos literarios de todos los tiempos (en La Libertad) y sus respectivos integrantes.

Una flagrante omisión: Jorge Hurtado. ¡Cómo no está el Woody! Óxido es uno de los poemarios más transgresores que haya publicado escritor trujillano alguno.

Y tampoco el Jules . . . ¿Qué está pasando! Por más que Jorge Torres sea de Pisco fue el primero en apostar por la editorial alternativa OREM, que tanta rareza sacó a fines de la década pasada. Allí están el 533, un viaje sin retorno; y el TV-OUT que escribimos a cuatro manos cambiadas.

Sin olvidarnos del Pato Patricio Córdova, quien aparte de su mapoemario Siudákaoz, ahora dirige Incertidumbre Editores, otra novedosa editorial independiente que publicó la oscura Celebración de la noche de José Ce, que tampoco figura en este diccionario.

Más allá de estas ausencias que responden más a una falta de difusión y conocimiento que a otras razones (estos libros están en google), el "Primer Diccionario de Escritores de la Región La Libertad" de Blasco Bazán es un texto que de todas maneras tendrá un lugar asegurado como parte de la bibliografía de consulta del sílabo de Literatura Regional de la UNT.

domingo, octubre 16, 2011

(oooo oooo oooo)

Drive out with the sun in your eyes
You wasted my time
It's true, it's true

My god, don't you hold out your hand
I called off my plans
I counted on you, on you

And if you're ever left with any doubt
What you live with and what you'll do without
I'm only sorry that it took so long to figure out

(oooo oooo oooo)

Got lost in the places I've been
I should go out with my friends
I'd go tonight but I know you'll be there too, there too

For me, this bottle of wine
Is to slow down my mind
And forget the things that I knew, I knew

And if you're ever left with any doubt
What you live with and what you'll do without
I'm only sorry that it took so long to figure out

(oooo oooo oooo)

miércoles, octubre 05, 2011

You Gave Me Something, I Understand,
You Gave Me Loving In The Palm Of My Hand
I Can't Tell You How I Feel
My Heart Is Like A Wheel
Let Me Roll It
Let Me Roll It To You
Let Me Roll It
Let Me Toll It To You

I Want To Tell You
And Now's The Time
I Want To Tell You That
You're Going To Be Mine

I Can't Tell You How I Feel
My Heart Is Like A Wheel.
Let Me Roll It
Let Me Roll It To You
Let Me Roll It
Let Me Roll It To You

martes, octubre 04, 2011

She keeps Moet et Chandon
In a pretty cabinet
'Let them eat cake' she says
Just like Marie Antoinette
A built-in remedy
For Khrushchev and Kennedy
At anytime an invitation
You can't decline

Caviar and cigarettes
Well versed in etiquette
Extraordinarily nice

Chorus:
She's a Killer Queen
Gunpowder, Gelatine
Dynamite with a laser beam
Guaranteed to blow your mind
Anytime

Recommended at the price
Insatiable an appetite
Wanna try?

To avoid complications
She never kept the same address
In conversation
She spoke just like a baroness
Met a man from China
Went down to Asia Minor
Then again incidentally
If you're that way inclined

Perfume came naturally from Paris
for cars she couldn't care less
Fastidious and precise


Chorus


Drop of a hat she's as willing as
Playful as a pussy cat
Then momentarily out of action
Temporarily out of gas
To absolutely drive you wild, wild
She's out to get you


Chorus

Recommended at the price
Insatiable in appetite
Wanna try?
You wanna try.

sábado, septiembre 17, 2011

QUIT PLAYING THOSE MIND GAMES FOREVER



Love is the answer


and you know that


for sure

Love is a flower

You've got to let it


you've got to let it go

viernes, septiembre 02, 2011

La Cabañita



Animación de Aldo Takayama y Daniella Graner

Basada en mi cuento La Cabaña de Cuentos pa' Kemarse (OREM, 2008)

Facultad de Arte - Carrera de Diseño Gráfico - PUCP - 2010

jueves, septiembre 01, 2011

La otra dimensión

Animación de Andrés Malla y  Alexia Baldárrago

basada en mi cuento Dimensión de Cuentos pa' Kemarse (OREM, 2008)

domingo, agosto 28, 2011

Taxi



Animación grupal publicada en el canal de Eduardo Machicao

basada en mi cuento "Taxi" de "Cuentos pa' kemarse" (OREM, 2008)

para la clase de audiovisuales de la Escuela de Arte de la PUCP

sábado, agosto 27, 2011

I'm fuckin tired of everything
If a picture paints a thousand words,
Then why can't I paint you?
The words will never show the you I've come to know.
If a face could launch a thousand ships,
Then where am I to go?
There's no one home but you,
You're all that's left me too.
And when my love for life is running dry,
You come and pour yourself on me.

If a man could be two places at one time,
I'd be with you.
Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way.
If the world should stop revolving spinning slowly down to die,
I'd spend the end with you.
And when the world was through,
Then one by one the stars would all go out,
Then you and I would simply fly away

viernes, agosto 05, 2011



I know when to go out
I know when to stay in
Get things done

I catch a paper boy
But things don't really change
I'm standing in the wind
But I never wave bye-bye

But I try, I try

There's no sign of life
It's just the power to charm
I'm lying in the rain
But I never wave bye-bye

But I try, I try

Never gonna fall for
Modern love - walks beside me
Modern love - walks on by
Modern love - gets me to the church on time
Church on time - terrifies me
Church on time - makes me party
Church on time - puts my trust in god and man
God and man - no confessions
God and man - no religion
God and man - don't believe in modern love

It's not really work
It's just the power to charm
I'm still standing in the wind
But I never wave bye bye

But I try, I try

Never gonna fall for
Modern love - walks beside me
Modern love - walks on by
Modern love - gets me to the church on time
Church on time - terrifies me
Church on time - makes me party
Church on time - puts my trust in god and man
God and man - no confessions
God and man - no religion
God and man - don't believe in modern love
Modern love - walks beside me
Modern love - walks on by
Modern love - gets me to the church on time
Church on time - terrifies me
Church on time - makes me party
Church on time - puts my trust in god and man
God and man - no confessions
God and man - no religion
God and man - I don't believe in modern love

Modern love, Modern love, Modern love, Modern love, Modern love, Modern love
Modern love, Modern love, Modern love, Modern love, Modern love, Modern love

Modern love - Modern love, walks beside me
Modern love - Modern love, walks on by
Modern love - Modern love, walks beside me
Modern love - Modern love, walks on by
Never gonna fall for
Never gonna fall for

lunes, agosto 01, 2011

HOY ES 1 DE AGOSTO

martes, julio 26, 2011

WELCOME TO THE 27 GENERATION CLUB

viernes, julio 22, 2011


My cherie amour, lovely as a summer day
My cherie amour, distant as the milky way
My cherie amour, pretty little one that I adore
You're the only girl my heart beats for
How I wish that you were mine

In a cafe or sometimes on a crowded street
I've been near you, but you never noticed me
My cherie amour, won't you tell me how could you ignore
That behind that little smile I wore
How I wish that you were mine

Maybe someday, you'll see my face among the crowd
Maybe someday, I'll share your little distant cloud
Oh, cherie amour, pretty little one that I adore
You're the only girl my heart beats for
How I wish that you were mine


jueves, julio 21, 2011

Now I know "Spanish harlem" are not just pretty words to say
I thought I knew
But now I know that rose trees never grow in New York city

Until you've seen these trash can dreams come true
You stand at the edge while people run you through
And I thank the Lord there's people out there like you
I thank the Lord there's people out there like you, mm

While Mona Lisas and mad hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say "good morning" to the night
For unless they see the sky but they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark out side or light

This Broadway's got, its got a lot of songs to sing
If I knew the tunes I might join in, oh and
I go my way alone, grow my own
My own seeds shall be sown in New York city
Subway's no way for a good man to go down
Rich man can ride and the hobo he can drown

And I thank the Lord for the people I have found
I thank the Lord for the people I have found, oh

While Mona Lisas and mad hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say "good morning" to the night
For unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark out side or light

And now I know "Spanish harlem" are not just pretty words to say, hmm
I thought I knew
But now I know that rose trees never grow in New York city

Until you've seen these trash can dreams come true and
You stand at the edge while people run you through
And I thank the Lord there's people out there like you, yeah
I thank the Lord there's people out there like you, oh

While Mona Lisas and mad hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say "good morning" to the night
Well unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark outside or light
They know not if it's dark outside or light

martes, julio 19, 2011





Arctic Monkeys con su "Suck it and see" es lo mejor en rock (o sea, con el feelin' de la vieja escuela) que he escuchado este 2011. Se siente bacán ver a las bandas nuevas de la década pasada, y saber que ahora son quienes mandan.

jueves, julio 14, 2011



Ni un juego ni un ensayo


Durante los años del “boom” de la novela latinoamericana, los chilenos solían reprochar su notable ausencia en el grupo mayor. Ya que Julio Cortázar, Gabriel García Márquez, Mario Vargas Llosa y Carlos Fuentes, al parecer se sentían completos.


Décadas después, en 1998, la novela “Los detectives salvajes” era distinguida con el Premio Herralde, y al año siguiente con el Rómulo Gallegos. Esto, sumado a los elevados índices de lectoría (sobretodo universitaria), otorgó a la obra el nivel de “generacional” o “de culto”, situando al chileno Roberto Bolaño como el referente literario transgresor contemporáneo.


Lamentablemente, la fortuna le duró poco. El 15 de julio del 2003 Bolaño fallecía debido a una insuficiencia hepática, dejando inacabada su obra maestra “2666”. Un libro a la usanza decimonónica de más de mil cien páginas, compuesto por cinco novelas, que el autor pidió a su editor publicase por partes, pensando en los dos hijos que dejaba.


Entonces el carácter legendario que Bolaño ya ostentaba (siendo incluso convertido en personaje de varias novelas) no hizo sino aumentar, llevando a que sus libros sean vendidos a exagerados pero merecidos precios, lo cual ha dificultado hasta su piratería. Pese a todo, “La estrella distante” se erigió como otra de sus novelas más populares, gracias a la web de algún fanático nostálgico donde podía descargarse gratis en formato pdf.


Las personas que hayan leído estas tres novelas de manera consecutiva (como seguramente ha sido el camino de algunos pobres desquiciados) saben que han podido vislumbrar, aunque sea de lejos, la frontera entre el goce, el miedo y el asco. Todo desde la visión de un escritor para quien el ejercicio de la literatura no era un juego ni un ensayo, sino una batalla triste, de la que sabía saldría perdiendo.


Hoy a partir de las siete de la noche en el Salón Dadá de la Plazuela del Recreo, quien escribe acompañará al poeta Jorge Hurtado en “Roberto Bolaño: El último salvaje”. Será un conversatorio sobre la vida y obra de este autor, al conmemorarse ocho años de su desaparición. El ingreso es completamente libre.

miércoles, julio 13, 2011

She's thunderstorms
Lying on her front
Up against the wall
She's thunderstorms

I've been feeling foolish
You should try it
She came unsubstituted the peace and quiet
For acrobatic blood flow concertina
Cheating heartbeat, rapid fire

She's thunderstorms
Lying on her front
Up against the wall
She's thunderstorms

Here is your host
Sounds as if she's pulling close
When the heat starts growing horns
She's thunderstorms

She's been loop-the-looping around my mind
Her motorcycle boots give me this kind of
Acrobatic blood concertina
Cheating heartbeat, rapid fire

She's thunderstorms
Lying on her front
Up against the wall
She's thunderstorms

In an unusual place
When you're feeling far away
She does what the night does to the day

She's thunderstorms
Lying on her front
Up against the wall
She's thunderstorms

Thunderstorms...
Thunderstorms...

viernes, julio 08, 2011

When I get to the bottom
I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and turn
and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Do you don't you want me to love you
I'm coming down fast but I'm miles above you
Tell me tell me come on tell me the answer
and you may be a lover but you ain't no dancer

Go helter skelter
helter skelter
helter skelter
Yeah, hu, hu
I will you won't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me tell me tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer

Look out
Helter skelter
helter skelter
helter skelter
Yeah, hu, hu
Look out cause here she comes

When I get to the bottom
I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and turn
and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Well will you won't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me tell me tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer

Look out
Helter skelter
helter skelter
helter skelter
Yeah, hu,

Helter Skelter
She's coming down fast
Yes she is
Yes she is
coming down fast

martes, julio 05, 2011

Ah, ah, ah

Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh

You've got these little things,
That you've been running from.
You either love it or guess you don't.
You're such a pretty thing,
To be running from anyone.
A vision with nowhere to go.

So tell me right now,
You think you're ready for it?
I wanna know why you got me going
So let's go, We'll take it out of here.
I think I'm ready to leap.

I'm ready to live,
I'm ready to go-oh oh oh
(Get me out of my mind)
(Get me out of my mind)
I'm ready to go-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh

You've got these little things
You wanted something for 'em.
You'll either get it or guess you won't.
What does it really mean to get nothing from anyone?
There's a million ways it could go.

So tell me right now,
You think you're ready for it?
I wanna know why you got me going
So let's go, We'll take it out of here.I think I'm ready to leap, I'm ready to live

I'm ready to go-oh oh oh
(Get me out of my mind)
(Get me out of my mind)
I'm ready to go-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh

(Ooooh)
(Ooooh)

I think I'm ready, I think I know I'm ready
I know, I think I'm ready, I think I know I'm ready
I know, I think I'm ready, I think I know I'm ready
I know, I think I'm ready, I think I know I'm ready

I'm ready to go-oh-oh-oh
(Get me out of my mind)
(Get me out of my mind)
I'm ready to go-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh

I'm ready to go-oh-oh-oh
(Get me out of my mind)
(Get me out of my mind)
(I think I'm ready, I think I know I'm ready, I know I think I'm ready...)

I'm ready to go-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh

I'm ready to go-oh-oh-oh
(Get me out of my mind)
(Get me out of my mind)

I'm ready to go
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh

lunes, junio 27, 2011

This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us
It's time to make our move, I'm shaking off the rust
I've got my heart set on anywhere but here
I'm staring down myself, counting up the years
Steady hands, just take the wheel...
And every glance is killing me
Time to make one last appeal... for the life I lead

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be, oh
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, can you see what I see

They're trying to come back, all my senses push
Untie the weight bags, I never thought I could...
Steady feet, don't fail me now
Imma run till you can't walk
Something pulls my focus out
And I'm standing down...

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be, oh
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, you don't need

What you need, what you need...

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be
Oh, do you see what I see...

miércoles, junio 22, 2011

Can't make my own decisions
or make any with precision
Well maybe you should tie me up
so I don't go where you don't want me

You say that I been changing,
that I'm not just simply aging
Yeah how could that be logical?
Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat

Oh oh oh ohhhh

You don't have to believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror

If God's the game that you're playing
Well we must get more acquainted
Because it has to be so lonely
To be the only one who's holy

It's just my humble opinion
But it's one that I believe in
You don't deserve a point of view
If the only thing you see is you

Oh oh oh ohhhh

You don't have to believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror

This is the last second chance
(I'll point you to the mirror)
I'm half as good as it gets
(I'll point you to the mirror)
I'm on both sides of the fence
(I'll point you to the mirror)
Without a hint of regret
I'll hold you to it

I know you don't believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror

I know you won't believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror

sábado, junio 18, 2011

Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
I took my loved one out to dinner
So we could get a bite to eat
And though we both had been much thinner
She looked so beautiful I could eat her
Well well well, oh well

We sat and talked of revolution
Just like two liberals in the sun
We talked of women's liberation
And how the hell we could get things done
Well well well oh well

I took my loved one to a big field
So we could watch the English sky
We both were nervous feeling guilty
And neither one of us knew just why
Well well well oh well
As soon as your born they make you feel small,
By giving you no time instead of it all,
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
They hurt you at home and they hit you at school,
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool,
Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
When they've tortured and scared you for twenty odd years,
Then they expect you to pick a career,
When you can't really function you're so full of fear,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV,
And you think you're so clever and classless and free,
But you're still fucking peasents as far as I can see,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
There's room at the top they are telling you still,
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill,
If you want to be like the folks on the hill,
A working class hero is something to be.
A working class hero is something to be.
If you want to be a hero well just follow me,
If you want to be a hero well just follow me.

martes, junio 14, 2011

God gave rock and roll to you, gave rock and roll to you
Put it in the soul of everyone
Do you know what you want? You don't know for sure
You don't feel right, you can't find a cure
And you're gettin' less than what you're lookin' for

You don't have money or a fancy car
And you're tired of wishin' on a falling star
You gotta put your faith in a loud guitar

Chorus:
God gave rock and roll to you, gave rock and roll to you
Gave rock and roll to everyone (oh yeah)
God gave rock and roll to you, gave rock and roll to you
Put it in the soul of everyone

"Now listen"
If you wanna be a singer, or play guitar
Man, you gotta sweat or you won't get far
Cause it's never too late to work nine-to-five

You can take a stand, or you can compromise
You can work real hard or just fantasize
But you don't start livin' till you realize - "I gotta tell ya!"

God gave rock and roll to you, gave rock and roll to you
Gave rock and roll to everyone
God gave rock and roll to you, gave rock and roll to you
Put it in your'e Soul

(Instrumental break)

God gave rock and roll to you (to everyone he gave the song to be sung)
Gave rock and roll to you, gave rock and roll to everyone

God gave rock and roll to you (to everyone he gave the song to be sung)
Gave rock and roll to you, saved rock and roll for everyone
Saved rock and roll

Chorus repeats out...

"I know life sometimes can get tough! And I know life sometimes can be a drag!
But people, we have been given a gift, we have been given a role
And that roles name is... Rock and Roll!"

miércoles, junio 01, 2011

You want to give your love away
And end up giving nothing
I'm not surprised, that your black eyes
Are gazing.

You say that love is everything
And what we need the most of
I wish you knew, that's just how true
My love was.

No words for my love

You're burning love, sweet burning love
It's deep inside,
You mustn't hide, your burning love
Sweet burning love, your burning love.

You want to turn your head away
And someone's thinking of you
I wish you'd see, it's only me,
I love you.

No words for my love.

lunes, mayo 30, 2011

They say it fades if you let it,
love was made to forget it.
I carved your name across my eyelids,
you pray for rain I pray for blindness.

If you still want me, please forgive me,
the crown of love is fallen from me.
If you still want me, please forgive me,
because the spark is not within me.

I snuffed it out before my mom walked in my bedroom.

The only thing that you keep changin'
is your name, my love keeps growin'
still the same, just like a cancer,
and you won't give me a straight answer!

If you still want me, please forgive me,
the crown of love has fallen from me.
If you still want me please forgive me
because your hands are not upon me.

I shrugged them off before my mom walked in my bedroom.

The pains of love, and they keep growin',
in my heart there's flowers growin'
on the grave of our old love,
since you gave me a straight answer.

If you still want me, please forgive me,
the crown of love is not upon me
If you still want me, please forgive me,
'cause the spark is not within me.
it's not within me, it's not within me.

You gotta be the one,
you gotta be the way,
your name is the only word that I can say

You gotta be the one,
you gotta be the way,
your name is the only word , the only word that I can say!

Only one that I can say!

domingo, mayo 15, 2011

viernes, mayo 13, 2011

I'm coming up only to hold you under
I'm coming up only to show you wrong
And to know you is hard and we wonder
To know you all wrong, we were

Really too late to call, so we wait for
Morning to wake you; it's all we got
To know me as hardly golden
Is to know me all wrong, they were

At every occasion I'll be ready for a funeral
At every occasion once more is called a funeral
Every occasion I'm ready for the funeral
At every occasion one brilliant day funeral

I'm coming up only to show you down for
I'm coming up only to show you wrong
To the outside, the dead leaves, they all blow (alive is very poetic)
For'e (before) they died had trees to hang their hope

At every occasion I'll be ready for the funeral
At every occasion once more is called the funeral
At every occasion I'm ready for the funeral
At every occasion one brilliant day funeral

lunes, mayo 09, 2011

I'm gonna fight 'em all
A nation army couldn't hold me back
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right behind my back

And I'm talking to myself at night
Because I can't forget
Back and forth through my mind
Behind a cigarette
And the message coming from my eyes
Says leave it alone

Don't want to hear about it
Every single one's got a story to tell
Everyone knows about it
From the Queen of England to the hounds of hell

And if I catch it coming back my way
I'm gonna serve it to you
And that aint what you want to hear
But thats what I'll do
And the feeling coming from my bones
Says find a home

I'm going to Wichita
Far from this opera for evermore
I'm gonna work the straw
Make the sweat drip out of every pore
And I'm bleeding, and I'm bleeding, and I'm bleeding
Right before the lord
All the words are gonna bleed from me
And I will sing no more
And the stains coming from my blood
Tell me go back home

domingo, mayo 01, 2011





SÀBATO TAMBIÈN MURIÒ




No me gusta hablar de lo que sucede en el momento y cuando tuve oportunidad siempre ganò la pereza.




A Sàbato lo conocì con Juan Pablo Castel a los quince, realmente no recuerdo mucho màs que una trama plagada de oscuridad y la parte donde cierto grupo intelectual discutìa sobre una idea de novela negra.

Despuès encontré que era una parodia a Borges, Bioy Casares y Victoria Ocampo.


Me enfrentè a El tùnel con la desmesura que presentan los iniciados. Leer todo lo que tengas al alcance solo para ser pronto olvidado.
La impresiòn que me dejó fue la de un escritor crudo y antisocial, del que no se podía digerir su trilogìa narrativa de manera consecutiva sin caer en la depresiòn o la paranoia.




El escritor y sus fantasmas




La variedad que presentan actualmente algunas librerías me permitió conseguir títulos como la Obra Completa en Ensayo de Ernesto Sabato, publicada por Seix Barral. Tener en un solo tomo Uno y el universo, Hombres y engranajes, Heterodoxia, El escritor y sus fantasmas, Apologìas y rechazos, Entre la letra y la sangre, y Otros ensayos, me sumergìa en una de las compilaciones màs interesantes para leer de noche y por las calles.

No era una lectura acadèmica, solo abrìa en cualquier parte y encontraba tìtulos como Sobre la naturaleza de la literatura argentina, El hombre tìtere, Sòcrates, Baudelaire y Sartre, La novela de la crisis, Modestia de los grandes espìritus, Novelistas y revoluciones, donde resaltaban los micro-ensayos tipo:

GENEALOGÌA DE LA ETERNIDAD. Egipcios (hieratismo, geometrismo, abstracciòn de su arte) - Pitàgoras (viajò por Egipto) - Platòn (recibiò la herencia pitagòrica y òrfica, eternidad = geometrìa = ideas) - Cristianismo (a travès de los platònicos).

Esto salvaba cualquier tiempo perdido.




Sobre héroes y tumbas

Para sentir su narrativa, debe ser leìda en momentos de crisis. Sobre hèroes y tumbas representó en 1961 el primer ejemplo de lo que se esperaba de la novela latinoamericana. Existencialista, experimental
y poètica, de corte detectivesco y cargado con un humor desolador.

Cuando acabè la historia de Alejandra y el Informe sobre ciegos, no quise leer nada suyo en mucho tiempo. Sàbato tiene la cualidad de inmiscuirte en su obra como si estuvieras escuchando a un tipo muy culto pero con psicopatologías crònicas.

Comenzarè pronto con Abaddòn el exterminador y volveré a cargar el peso de sus Ensayos en mi mochila. Es lo menos que podrìa hacer, ahora que ya se unió a Saramago y Salinger en la mesa de los inconformes.

miércoles, abril 20, 2011



VISITE LA CALETA COLORADA

domingo, abril 17, 2011


Angles, lo ùltimo de The Strokes, ha dividido a la crìtica (so what!). Sin embargo, para aquellos que en su adolescencia disfrutaron con Last Nite a fines del 2001 y el verano del 2002 (viendo còmo la mùsica dejaba de ser tan rapcoreada y regresaba al rock and roll conchudo con bandas como The White Stripes, The Hives, The Vines y por supuesto The Strokes) escucharlos despuès de cinco años de ausencia, sabe reencontrarse con la gente con la que alguna vez se parò de juerga.


Y volver a hacerla . . .


Al reparar en temas como Machu Picchu o Two kinds of happiness, pareciera que The Strokes hubiese tenido guardadas las canciones para ser lanzadas entre el 2008 ó 2009, ya que se siente toda la nostalgia ochentera que la dècada pasada nos obligò a soportar.


Igual, con este regreso, The Strokes confirma que aunque no haya nada nuevo bajo el sol, ellos saben còmo rockear (todos los temas de Angles son cabales singles) y en èpocas de terrible sequìa, vale, vale demasiado.

domingo, abril 10, 2011

viernes, abril 08, 2011

ESTE DOMINGO A PREPARSE PARA LA DEMOCRACIA DEL IMBÉSHIL!!!

domingo, abril 03, 2011

Un singular autor: Gonzalo Del Rosario

Hablar de Gonzalo Del Rosario es hablar de la ficción que el mundo actual nos exige: la palpación de los extramuros de la imaginación y la irreverente hazaña de oponerse a la autocensura en la literatura. El primer libro de Gonzalo Del Rosario que leí fue Cuentos pa' kemarse, libro que consta de un conjunto de cuentos que reciben la peculiar dosis de humor ácido de su autor sin salir de lo fántastico, inusual y creativo. 


Cuando uno lee Cuentos pa' kemarse le dan ganas de crear, de secuestrar tu capacidad imaginativa, amordazarla y sacarle todo lo que se pueda. Es que leer a Gonzalo es leer algo que te mantiene activo e interesado, lo cual me parece muy importante sobre todo en personas que no mantienen una costumbre para la lectura, y quienes conforman la mayoría en la población.

Probablemente pueda tildarse a este libro como no apto para niños o adolescentes, pero creo más bien que es una buena motivación para toda clase de jóvenes quienes la mayoría de las veces frenan sus aptitudes literarias por consecuencias social-morales como la timidez, la inseguridad y el temor.

Gonzalo Del Rosario nació en Trujillo y luego de publicar Cuentos pa' kemarse participó en producciones como Tv-out y Generación DROG, junto a otros jóvenes autores. En el 2010 publica Losocialystones, libro que denota la evolución del estilo propio del autor y que lo coloca como una de las firmes promesas de la literatura norteña.

miércoles, marzo 16, 2011

Esta música me está transportando

a una de las épocas más agridulces

el verano 2009

David Bowie - Life on mars

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Zero
Kings of Leon - Use somebody
The Killers - Spaceman

miércoles, marzo 09, 2011

weezer

domingo, marzo 06, 2011

And I always find, yeah
I always find somethin' wrong
You been puttin' up wit' my
shit just way too long
I'm so gifted at findin'
what I don't like the most
So I think it's time for us
to have a toast

Let's have a toast for the douchebags
Let's have a toast for the assholes
Let's have a toast for the scumbags
Every one of them that I know
Let's have a toast to the jerkoffs
That'll never take work off
Baby I got a plan
Run away as fast as you can

She find pictures in my email
I sent this bitch a picture of my dick
I don't know what it is with females
But I'm not too good at that shit
See, I could have me a good girl
And still be addicted to them hoodrats
And I just blame everything on you
At least you know that's what I'm good at

And I always find
Yeah I always find
Yeah I always find somethin' wrong
You been puttin' up with
my shit just way too long
I'm so gifted at findin'
what I don't like the most
So I think it's time for us
to have a toast

Let's have a toast for the douchebags
Let's have a toast for the assholes
Let's have a toast for the scumbags
Every one of them that I know
Let's have a toast for the jerkoffs
That'll never take work off
Baby I got a plan
Run away fast as you can

Run away from me baby, run away
Run away from me baby, run away
It about to get crazy, just run away
Run away as fast as you can
Run away from me baby, run away
Run away from me baby, run away
It about to get crazy
why can't she just run away
Baby I got a plan
run away fast as you can


24/7, 365, pussy stays on my mind
I-I-I-I did it, all right, all right, I admit it
Now pick your next move
you could leave or live wit' it
Ichabod Crane with that
motherfuckin' top off
Split and go where?
Back to wearin' knockoffs, haha
Knock it off, Neiman's, shop it off
Let's talk over mai-tai's
waitress, top it off
Ho's like vultures wanna fly
in your Freddy loafers
You can't blame 'em
they ain't never seen Versace sofas
Every bag, every blouse, every bracelet
Comes with a price tag, baby, face it
You should leave
if you can't accept the basics
Plenty ho's in the baller-nigga matrix
Invisibly set, the Rolex is faceless
I'm just young, rich, and tasteless P!

Never was much of a romantic
I could never take the intimacy
And I know it did damage
Cause the look in your eyes is killin' me
I guess you knew an advantage
Cause you could blame me for everything
And I don't know how I'ma manage
If one day you just up and leave
traduccion de transmusiclation
And I always find, yeah
I always find somethin' wrong
You been puttin' up with my
shit just way too long
I'm so gifted at findin'
what I don't like the most
So I think it's time for us
to have a toast

Let's have a toast for the douchebags
Let's have a toast for the assholes
Let's have a toast for the scumbags
Every one of them that I know
Let's have a toast for the jerkoffs
That'll never take work off
Baby I got a plan
Run away as fast as you can

viernes, marzo 04, 2011

ROCK ADN ROLL!!!

domingo, febrero 20, 2011



ESTE SUNDAY, SUNDAY, SUNDAY . . .

LOS FUCKIN SOMBREROS

UNA VERDADERA BANDA DE ROCK AND ROLL

- MADE IN PERÚ - CARAJO!!!

viernes, febrero 18, 2011

SMILE

martes, febrero 08, 2011

I just don't know what to do with myself
I don't know what to do with myself
planning everything for two
doing everything with you
and now that we're through
I just don't know what to do

I just don't know what to do with myself
I don't know what to do with myself
movies only make me sad
parties make me feel as bad
cause I'm not with you
I just don't know what to do

like a summer rose
needs the sun and rain
I need your sweet love
to beat love away

well I don't know what to do with myself
just don't know what to do with myself
planning everything for two
doing everything with you
and now that we're through
I just don't know what to do

like a summer rose
needs the sun and rain
I need your sweet love
to beat love away

I just don't know what to do with myself
just don't know what to do with myself
just don't know what to do with myself
I don't know what to do with myself

domingo, febrero 06, 2011


PANDA EN EL QUIRÒFANO DE LA IMITACIÓN

Vi a los catorce años el video Buen día de la banda mexicana Panda, o PXNDX como chucha quieran denominarse. Corría el último trimestre del 2000 cuando en Telehit o a veces en Mtv (transmitido por México) rotaban esta canción que me causó gracia por la letra a la que no le encontraba asociación alguna con un grupo ilegal de motocross (¿?)

Por aquellas épocas, Estados Unidos producía a gran escala centenares de imitadores de Green Day, con un Green day que ya no quería ser Green Day, desde que regalara su unicorde y simplona balada punk acústica Time of your life en 1998. Entonces ante la negación de sus inspiradores a continuar por la senda del chongo y la chacota impuesta por discográficas para vender una imagen de punkeke vacilón que tanto atraía a las adolescentes, Blink 182, New found glory, Sum 41 y un largo etcétera, tomaron la posta invadiendo el mercado new punk con disforzadas y repetitivas tonaditas nasales.

Era comienzos del verano 2001 cuando Panda sonaba como una más de aquellas bandas imitadoras de Green Day. Entonces por fortuna cortaron el cable en mi casa y no volví a saber nada de ellos. Hasta que 4 años más tarde, en pleno apogeo de lo Emo, cuando aquel buen rock vintage practicado por The Strokes o The White Stripes, entre otros, se negaba a morir, y las pantallas inoculaban el virus de los rímels y el pelo planchado entre adolescentes descepcionados, nos llegó una cita en el quirófano.

Good Charlotte, Simple Plain, Avril Lavigne, Ashlee Simpson, y hasta Hillary Duff con Lindsay Lohan de regalo, entre lo más descartable; y My Chemical Romance junto a los resucitados Green Day, quienes a falta de referentes, se erigieron como los abanderados de la clásica "contra-cultura" que nace a mediados de cada década (protestando contra la guerra de Irak y diciéndole a su América que eran unos idiotas) practicaron aquella cortavena predilección hacia las lágrimas llamada Emo.

Esto propició que bandas como Panda, que de seguro andaban friendo hamburguesas en alguna parte, no solo cambiaran su nombre a PXNDX (a fin de googlearlos más rápido) sino que aprovecharan el tumulto para volver a colgarse de la tendencia americana de moda, siendo lanzados como unos "Original Mexican Emo".

Claro que una vez promocionadas las canciones del Para ti con desprecio (2005), disco que marcó a toda una generación de emos latinoamericanos con el corazón desgarrado, los integrantes de Panda sabían que estaban condenados a continuar con la maldición del rock popular en español, que solo imita y jamás inventa (con sus contadas excepciones).

Entonces si la nueva ola setentera reciclaba al rock and roll de los 50 y primeros 60's, o los álbumes ochenteros de Soda Stereo sonaban a Indochina; Panda con temas como Tal vez así es mejor, odiame / Porque tú muerta estarás / Me sacará el corazón, transplante de corazón, ahí te va mi dolor / estaba mostrando al mundo su tesis en "Imitación de tendencias", siendo aprobados de forma unánime por los ejecutivos de Mtv.

No contentos con el éxito emolientero, Panda necesitaba su máster. Así que buscaron inspiración, un poquito más lejos, como queriendo algo caleta. El myspacemusic y el youtube los transportó a Inglaterra donde The Arctic Monkeys daban la hora en lo concerniente a rock conchudo y visceral adolescente.

PXNDX logró su maestría cambiando nuevamente de look a lo que corría por el mundo. Si al comienzo eran Blink 182, luego, Good Charlotte (en etapa So Predictable . . .) ahora se alucinaban indies ingleses admiradores de Kaiser Chiefs, Kasabian y sobretodo Arctic Monkeys.

Esta última etapa les daría a finales del 2006 la consolidación definitiva de su estilo mercenario (¡JÁ!) con Amantes sunt amentes, y su proyectada diske indie en Narcisista por excelencia, aparte de quizás su canción más esmerada Los malaventurados no lloran, cuyo video me transmite mucha felicidad.

Si bien la voz de Pepe Madero (puta qué mexicano ese nombre) es por decirlo de una manera amable, insoportable, en especial su constante desafinación al razgar la voz por querer darle ese toque sufrido y rockanrolero, que obviamente jamás conseguirá, sus fanáticos en la segunda mitad de la década pasada lo idolatran. Comprobé lo enunciado cuando vi a amigos(as) llorando borrachos y gritando Aquí todo está peor, que al igual que ella / mi voluntad también murió / Le quiero platicar que todo sale mal /
que yo la alcanzaría teniendo la oportunidad . . .

Esta aburrida tarde de domingo prendo el cable y observo que han grabado un Mtv unplugged. No puedo dejar de vomitar improperios al verlos ahora alucinándose Kings of Leon, ta que estos ones no aprenden.

sábado, enero 22, 2011



Si bien Radiohead es mucho más que Creep (allí están The Bends, Ok Computer y Kid A) este tema no deja de ser un clásico del rock en el siglo XX. La cantidad de artistas que han versionado la canción desde KoRn hasta Moby es espeluznante, sobretodo para Tom Yorke y Co.

Hereda mucho del Abbey Road y quizás por eso a mi viejo le vacile tanto esta canción que lo remonta a lugares fríos como Cabanillas-Juliaca-Puno (1995-1996) donde yo también anduve alguna vez y regresé.

Fue él quien me pasó el dato que
la película del Face, la cual hasta ahora no veo, incluye este cover de Scala & Kolacny Brothers en su soundtrack.
No sé cuantas veces la estoy repitiendo pero no me cansa.

Ahora que reviso wikipedia y leo que Creep salió como single en 1992 para luego ser incluído en el Pablo Honey de 1993, me digo son 19 años, ya 20 si quieren, tamare, he allí la trascendencia del arte; y la canción sigue tan fresca como cuando salió al mercado que tanto odian pero les paga las cuentas.

viernes, enero 21, 2011

I FEEL FUCKIN GREAT

domingo, enero 02, 2011


LAS MOSCAS NO VUELAN DE NOCHE

No hay nada más perfecto que una mujer desnuda. Aún así no lo estuviera, y solo fueran sugerencias como un polo blanco transparente que con un poco de aire frío deja entrever lo que por instinto deseamos, o faldas que facilitan miradas, roces y zambullidas, su simple apreciación es el mejor regalo del verano.

Un placer similiar es el que me da ingresar a las tiendas de libros usados, viejos y piratas que abundan en los centros de ciudad. Placer que todo voyeurista requiere, en especial aquellos que han sido formados entre revistas y dibujos animados, lo que da por resultado la búsqueda incesante de historietas, comics, chistes, y aquello que menos se parezca a una foto sin dejar de ser apetecible.

Entonces siempre me quedaba pegado en las historietas porno donde situaciones tan bizarras como violaciones de monstruos acuáticos a un par de amigas adolescentes que jugaban al picnic frente a una laguna y de aburrimiento decidían desnudarse, para refrescar su piel además de dorarla con el sol del mediodía. Mientras se lanzaban agua y salpicaban sus senos de gotas multicolores, unos tentáculos jalaron a la primera y la segunda solo sintió un agijón penetrándole entre las nalgas antes que más tentáculos la hicieran gemir de placer y dolor hasta ahogarse siendo engullidas bajo el agua que se tornaba tan roja como su virginidad perdida.

Por eso cuando llegó a mis manos Las moscas no vuelan de noche de César Santivañez & Carlos Lavida, finalista del premio Librería Contracultura de Novela Gráfica 2010, me sentí reivindicado en mi gusto sado con un libro que acertó sobremanera en la fusión entre el tánatos y el eros.

La historia comienza con Ed Hibert criticando la performance de una flaca llamada Verónica, del Violin Concerto en D major, Op. 77 de Johannes Brahms. Claro que ver a Ed en una versión humanizada se mezcla extrañamente esperando las imágenes humorísticas mortales a las que nos tiene acostumbrado y que nunca llegan, similar a la impresión que dejó Jim Carrey en The Truman Show.

Así es como Verónica acepta la invitación de Ed para escuchar la interpretación de Henryk Szeryng en sus aposentos ¿Qué acaso esta chica no se ha topado con el blog Asesino en Series alguna vez? Lo mínimo que se puede esperar con Ed Hibert y una mujer cuya única defensa es un violín (y he allí la gran metáfora) es que sea asesinada brutalmente.

Todo dentro de los cánones de un arte que solamente busca el placer estético, así éste sea el de amarrar al suelo a una bella mujer desnuda, inyectarle fentanilo e ir acercando peligrosamente un escapelo al espacio neutro entre sus senos.

Ed reza invocando el Requiem de Mozart, lo interpreta con el cuerpo de la instrumentista, introduce su mano izquierda para sentir el calor de los órganos aún latiendo, dejándolos salir hasta la muerte.

La imagen que cierra el libro es atroz, en especial si te has pasado leyendo en una combi a sabiendas que las miradas inquisidoras de tus desconocidos compañeros de ruta no dejan de observar esa basura que leen los de esta generación.

Las moscas no vuelan de noche es un libro ágil, musicalmente culto, plagado de deseos reprimidos y que deja la suficiente turbación para sueños sádicos o pesadillas de inexpertas.




sábado, enero 01, 2011

YA HAN PASADO 10 AÑOS DEL NUEVO MILENIO