altalentante phase in which at these times is reflected also in the blog, since I moved from a phase of logorrhea so far never seen a sudden block of bloggers which will make it late with brief comments about the concerts I've seen at this time.
I deeply regret, because for example I saw the Lemonheads Santiago Alquimista, the local-maybe someone who reads me closely know that I think has the best sound-Lisbon, and I enjoyed it very much now to see Evan Dando permanently burned into his brain to give up wearing a T-shirt Iron Maiden (fuck c'avrà never to do - him, I had one of J & MC, as our brothers Reid has played with more 'd' once to my memory).
And even with the Nouvelle Vague Melanie Pain unique, fringe, green eyes, wonderful voice, like a crazy horse, who also presented a solo album. An exciting concert, many quips and jokes and, above all, an opening with One Hundred Years that I sang and antipaticissima blonde on stage, sometimes all too convinced of themselves, with those dancing and those flirting with each other, or with jumps and dances from Latin American and the environment almost pernicious, but offset 'dall'eterea voice of Melanie, the quality of the cover, from a public quite involved (couples, couples, couples) and enthusiastic, although far exhausted from doing all the Touros Praça de Campo Pequeno, a very evocative, one of the very few connecting links between Spain and Portugal, which even the air is different from country to country, and the color temperature and happy festive the center of the English capital's romantic and decadent melancholy of a people takes an unexpected and indescribable shades.
And always in Campo Pequeno in a trance I saw a wonderful concert of Sigur Rós, and it is no secret that Icelanders are among the champions of the form that the more 'pleases me to make music. Jonsi Birgisson, a unique figure, an extraordinary character: minimal, epic, violent, sweet and melodic. I Sigur Ros will never reach, in my instance and on appeal, the peaks of Mogwaii immortal, but the post-rock also passes through them, some bursts are pure shoegaze, closing with nine minutes of uninterrupted noise left me spellbound. Concert ended and I was there, impaled, hypnotized to worship sound that I hoped would never end. The SR
are perhaps less experimental, more 'minimalist M, sometimes too didactic, easy, even if the pop tunes that have entered the last live recordings have been cut clean off (thank god). Birgisson is a genius, is more 'artist, is more' character, is set in the very role and concludes the first half with an extraordinary play of light, rain a piece of confetti and a standing ovation. Only remark, controversial, to sample some arpeggios. Not have done it, I would have preferred a different guitar, type of group that has opened, other Icelandic post-rock, the Four something, so I joined them niusletta, but does not affect the final decision, probably irretrievably tainted by love that magical sound, icy, endless winters, lost worlds, flashes of distant lands and desolate.
Year's concert? Concert of the year.
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