Your Basket / 4AD / Efterklang / Magic Chairs

Efterklang enfes İstanbul konserinin tadı hala damağımızda iken, 4AD fırınından magic chairs'i çıkardı...
Beklenenden biraz farklı denilebilir mi? Yine de tadından yenmez bir kayıt...

ve bitakım alışılmış tuhaf yorumlar...
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PRESS QUOTES:

"A miraculous conservatoire pop opus." MOJO (****)

"It's impossible not to enjoy." Rock Sound (9/10)

"A superb record from one of the world's most uniquely-minded bands." BBC

"Beautifully composed." Mail On Sunday (****)

"This is the kind of record Coldplay and Brian Eno should have made." NME

"This distilled Efterklang is premium strength stuff." Clash (8/10)

Dinleyin / Dinletin...


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v.2.0

misal vermeler --- v.2.0.

"...terleten sorular,sorunlar.. bazen düşünmeyi bıraktıran, yıldıran hayat tebessümleri, anlık iletiler, kazanıma dönüşmeyen edinimler...
kalesinden uzaklaşan kalecinin dönüp ağlara giden topu gördüğü o an...
benzin bittikçe, farklı yakıtlar deneyerek nereye kadar...
melankolik havalar da bazen sıkıcı olabiliyor ki, bundan fenası yok.
uzaklardan bir şut gerek bana şöyle, penaltı noktası kezmez..."


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paradise circus

Massive Attack - Paradise Circus olması gerektiğinden daha iyi olmuş. O alkışlar ne öyle...
Sayfalarıma "next", "previous" ekleyemiyorum diye rahatsız hiç olmuyorum.
Devriliyorum cümlesel bazda, farkındayız. Arada bir yalın gözüktüğü kadar karmaşık güncellemeler gerekliymiş gibi hissediyor oluyorsam da, çok çabuk geçiyor. Tecrübeyle sabit.
Şimdi Şubat ortası bu güneş de nerden çıktı, neden 17:30 da hala aydınlık hava diyor olabilirsiniz, demeyin, zira 11 º C hala kıştır, candır...
Bir de, her hafta Türkiye'nin gizli cennetleri, seyahat rehberleri, görülmemiş güzellikler isimli ekler veren gazetelere seslenmek istiyorum...Yapmazsanız sevinirim.
İnsan seneler önce yazdığı+yazdığını unuttuğu şeylerle karşılaşınca, aynaya bakıp 5 sene önceki halini izliyor gibi oluyor ... misal veriyor ---

"Her masal içinde bir peri olma ihtimalini de ta$ir,yalnız kalmak da elimizde ama bunu istemek zor. Gerceklik yalnizca bizi boğar taa ki ondan kopana kadar. Sihirli fasülyelerden ziyade bazı $eyleri seçme $ansımız olmadığına inanırım ben..çünkü çok masal yitirdik.. Kaybetme korkusuyla ba$lamayan herbi$ey kısa sürer, çeker gider..denemek.. evet güzeldir, deneyimdir, aynı zamanda pi$manlıktır da ve üzüntü..Ben atlayanlar ve atlamayanların yanında çok daha büyük bir çoğunluğun tav$an yuvası ba$ında volta attığına inanırım..kararsızlık gani burda... insanlar kendilerine inansa masallara gerek kalmazdi ki ama!"

sevgili $ekerpare;
bari yağmur yağdır da havamızı bulalım!

invisible

Paul Auster bir kez daha şaşırtmıyor... kısaca kurgusal dünyasına imrenmekle, hayal gücünü kıskanmakla, vebirçokdiğerşey arasında gidip geliyor insan.
tuhaf birşekilde bir kısım Bertolucci'nin the dreamers'ı anımsatıyor...

okuyun/okutun.

a tiny chronology

First a laughter initiates chemical reactions.
Then a glimpse, a gaze, a long stare simplifies the world as if nothing else matters.
The sun rises between couple of stars, smiling through the darkness.
Heartbeats quicken, breathes taken away, like a mountain crashes over, yet to be light as possible to lifted up above.
Pulses get higher, mouths dry, eyes sparkle...
All the filthy encouraging gained by crowd- confidence disappear.
Two very lonesome half-heart-shaped boxes tend to unite with fear.
Hesitation divide the waves around.
Up in the air anyone can feel the chaotic silence caused by the frequent flow of clumsy gestures.
Those eyes divine...
Who'd intend to interrupt?
Anyone knows, sometimes, with only one word; everything falls apart.
Cruel minds play tricks on hearts.
To speak is to set rules for start;
To speak is to create a fragile bubble with needles around;
To speak is to destroy the innocence arise.
Curiosity pops up after long lasting pauses.
Along comes endeavor to keep the mystery alive.
Still-snapshots recorded on mind...
every move, every little hand gesture, every other tempting look.
A new world is discovered from the very same old book.
Intentions are always being good...
How to keep sacred a captivated soul?
More or less, time presumes...
Time is the healing muse.
Anything ends before it begins, is a saving and yet a wasted tour.
How about absence of composure?
What if lack of self - confidence leads to certain truth?
Fundamentals of being a fool...basics of "loving" as a tool...
Please remove every despair upon the mood..
Among reality, dreams are decorated with milk, sugar and long lasting blues...

Trompe Le Monde

I do reconcile. What a fine day I may say. My composure stays on...like a plant dying inside with an orange and a smiley green face. My silence stays on. From flames I walked thru, from dark tears I survived and lived through. I'm tired now. Losing compassion, accepting less, fighting less, criticizing every part and still do nothing. I feel less of everything, yet I feel like I have much more than I should have owned. Every part of me designates, piece by piece, I kill myself.
My last circle of joy, I kept it hidden in my right pocket. I count misery everyday and enlarge my circle to what may it come. Cruel times I sense their presence like dark clowns, many more to come, and less of them survives. No one is right to judge me, my shortcomings or insecurities. I shall live on 'til I give up on...
Lights on the doors... who should choose? Who forces to make amends & rewrite what's been done. Why try to fix what has already broken into millions of pieces. Are we OK? Who really intend to ask? Never did I wonder why. I'm convinced past is an old carpet with holes on it. Could it possibly fly?
Grey is the post-modern lifestyle. Believing in endless affections, enormous infatuations, calm expectations, truth and dignity has faded away. Imaginary scenes fading out within time, diminished and get lost. We're all sorry creatures, with seeds of hatred and greed. Our silly pride, paths of lies, pink&white...is this all we got? Left hands empty, all these complicated lives, fear and silence. Our tears are now disposable. How to recycle feelings? That is the new future dream! Last of all, until we turned out to become senseless, so called "modern" folks, loosening will go on. Continue on ruling little worlds, while no one notices how mashing up the earth leads us nowhere but dark times. Being in love changed definition over time. Self - ignorance is contagious, hence nobody cared enough. We murdered sense of humor, values and meanings we oughta find. Discovered, vulnerable life's kept hidden beyond knowledge and love. Let's move on and see where every little thing's gonna collapse. What a magnificent scene, with fireworks to sit and watch. Who will ever notice it is all of us, that has been corrupted and broken down.
We had dreams? We had promises. Who forced us to sell more souls over carefree pleas. What about trees, millions of color changing leaves...All the green?
Who else to blame relentlessly. Once we'd be grateful, now we should be ashamed...even get drowned in an underestimated depth of self-destructive pain. Fear not, some might say. Fear not, yet we'll face what we deserved eventually at last. Glasses of lust has blinded our sight. We have invited the age of cries. We, ourselves created this universe of crime. Who'd call it off, ignoring self-profits gained over some others rights. How come the peace is the goal of any war? Confidence re-shaped over time. Trust no longer exists in selfish minds. We keep breaking our own hearts. Misreading the signs, we're captivated by each others secret love. Overwhelming quotations, sacred prayers, divine wishes, real encounters...where will you find?
Cut me some slack, I'm out of questions and reasons why...