"One From The Heart" - OST (Special Edition)

Original released on LP CBS 70215

(Europe, February 1982)

This is a special edition of the soundtrack from Francis Coppola's mythical movie. I've always adored "One From the Heart" and that's the reason I've extended in July 1999 the original album into this one, adding dialogues from the movie and also 2 bonus tracks by Tom Waits. So, if you are a fan of the movie you must profit this occasion to get something unique, which you won't find anywhere else.

"One From the Heart" is the score to the most misunderstood of Francis Ford Coppola's films. Far ahead of its time in terms of technology, use of color, montage, and set design, its soundtrack is the only thing that grounds it to earth. Coppola's movie is a metaphorical retelling of the exploits of Zeus and Hera set in Las Vegas. Coppola claims to have been taken with the male-female narrative implications of the track "I Don't Talk to Strangers," off Tom Waits' "Foreign Affairs" album. That cut was a duet with Bette Midler. Midler wasn't available for "One From the Heart", however, so Waits chose Crystal Gayle as his vocal foil. The result is one of the most beautifully wrought soundtrack collaborations in history. Along with producer Bones Howe, Waits and Gayle cut their duets largely from the studio floor, live with the small combo-style studio band that included the saxophonist Teddy Edwards, drummer Shelly Manne, trumpeter Jack Sheldon, pianist Pete Jolly, and bassist Greg Cohen, among others. 

The opening cut, a Waits piano intro that flows into the duet "Once Upon a Town," is a study in contrasts: first there are the stark ivories and the tinkle of a coin falling upon a bar before Waits' then-still-smoky baritone (now ravaged indescribably) entwines with Gayle's clear, ringing, emotionally rich vocal, and then joined by Bob Alcivar's string orchestrations before giving way to a jazzed-out down-tempo blues, where the pair sing in call-and-response counterpoint about the disappointments in life and love.

These are echoed a couple of tracks later in another duet, "Picking Up After You," which is the ultimate starstruck breakup tune. And while there are only four duets on the entire set, they are startling in their ragged intimacy, contrasted with a stark yet elegant atmosphere and cool noir-esque irony. Gayle's solo performances on the set, which include the mournfully gorgeous "Is There Any Way out of This Dream," with beautiful accompaniment in a tenor solo by Edwards, and the shimmering melancholy of "Old Boyfriends," are among the finest in her long career. 

For his part, Waits' "I Beg Your Pardon" and "You Can't Unring a Bell" fit deftly into his post-beat hipster canon, though they are offered with less droll irony and more emotionally honest flair here than they would have if they were on his own solo recordings. Likewise, the piano and vocal duet of "Take Me Home" offers Waits' piano as a canny and intuitive counterpart to the deep sensuality of Gayle's vocal. "One From the Heart" is a welcome addition to any soundtrack library to be sure, but also an essential one to the shelf of any Waits or Gayle fan. (Thom Jurek in AllMusic)

(VER COMENTÁRIO SOBRE O FILME AQUI)

LOVE SONGS FOREVER 1

50 ÊXITOS DOS ÚLTIMOS ANOS DO LICEU

Quando a agremiação ZECAJOJO anunciou a sua missão de reunir o maior número possível de colegas do 6º e 7º anos do Liceu Salazar de Lourenço Marques em futuras confraternizações gastronómicas, Rato Records, a famosa editora independente do espaço digital, resolveu dar um pequeno contributo à nobre causa daquela agremiação. Tal contributo é agora divulgado e posto à disposição dos internautas: um duplo CD, com 25 temas cada um, intitulado "50 Êxitos dos Últimos Anos do Liceu". Tratou-se de reunir, por ordem cronológica, de Setembro de 1968 a Agosto de 1969 (6º ano) e de Setembro de 1969 a Agosto de 1970 (7º ano), alguns dos temas mais populares daqueles tempos.

Não é um Best Of nem sequer uma listagem de favoritos pessoais. Antes um conjunto de canções que naqueles dois anos lectivos andavam, sem qualquer dúvida, nos ouvidos de todos nós e aí se mantiveram até aos dias de hoje. No próximo Verão serão passados 47 anos que virámos uma página muito importante do nosso livro pessoal. Tínhamos todos 17 anos, e, sem disso nos apercebermos, acabávamos de viver alguns dos melhores anos das nossas vidas. Esta coletânea irá por certo trazer recordações a muita gente, e é dedicada à geração moçambicana de 1953.

SÉRGIO GODINHO: "De Pequenino..."

Edição original em LP Sassetti DP 064

(PORTUGAL 1976, Abril 14)

Este quarto album de Sérgio Godinho solidificava, em 1976, a sua presença nos cenários da música popular portuguesa. Disco de transição e procura, “De Pequenino Se Torce O Destino” completa com “À Queima Roupa” o que poderíamos hoje, à distância, recordar como o “díptico” político na sua discografia. Mas retoma já o prazer das liberdades poéticas e indica experiências que se materializariam no album seguinte, dois anos depois. A participação de Fausto nos arranjos e direcção musical confere a este disco um notável esforço de aperfeiçoamento: «Trocávamos então experiências musicais e achei que era boa ideia partilharmos a responsabilidade dos arranjos que, de qualquer maneira, não são muito sofisticados. São arranjos onde geralmente a guitarra tem uma presença central.» Além de Fausto, que assina inclusivé a música de “O Namoro” sobre um poema do poeta angolano Viriato da Cruz (único tema que em todo o disco não é da autoria de Sérgio Godinho), há músicos cujos nomes surgem pela primeira vez associados à obra do Sérgio. É o caso de Carlos Zíngaro, que terá uma presença muito mais determinante no album posterior, "Pano-Cru". No album estão ainda incluídas duas das canções compostas por Sérgio Godinho para o filme “Os Demónios de Alcácer Quibir” de José Fonseca e Costa, onde também participou como actor: a canção-título e “Cantiga do Camolas”.

Como revés do recente 25 de Novembro de 1975 (as gravações realizaram-se logo no início de 1976), o disco conheceu um processo de boicote nas rádios: «Houve um efectivo controlo das rádios por gente mais conotada com a direita. Havia uma pressão muito grande no sentido de não se passar um determinado número de coisas. As canções deste disco passaram muito pouco na rádio na altura. Até porque houve uma espécie de autocensura, aliás pouco assumida, da parte de muita gente que então fazia rádio. Era quase como se concluísse: eles passaram tanto nos últimos dois anos, que a gente agora vai deixar o éter respirar. Como se alguém estivesse em perigo de “intoxicação”...» (extractos de “Retrovisor – Uma biografia musical de Sérgio Godinho, de Nuno Galopim, edição Assírio & Alvim, Maio 2006)

CARLOS DO CARMO & BERNARDO SASSETTI

Edição original em CD Mercury Universal Music

(PORTUGAL, 2010)

Este é um álbum sem segredos, pelo menos no que respeita à voz [que surge pura, sem trapézios, com um processamento quase nulo] de Carlos Do Carmo. Mas que comportava um desafio, pois enfrentava o perigo de alguma monotonia. E se esse desafio é superado com distinção e classe, deve-se à prestação soberba e pujante de Bernardo Sassetti: o pianista nunca se coloca acima da voz, sabe dar-lhe espaço e respiração dinâmica e depois nos momentos em que assume maior força harmónica é brilhante, exemplar. Depois ambos os músicos dão-se ao vizinho acolhendo-o em troca. Sassetti acolhe um sentido popular, sem deixar de ser exuberante e Carlos Do Carmo recebe do pianista uma nova aventura, que abraça como um jovem, mantendo toda a sua sofisticação. É um diálogo, que chega a ser comovente, de admiração mútua este disco, e também de admiração aos grandes autores da música portuguesa – essas versões parecem-me mais apaixonadas, as de Jacques Brel, “Quand On N’a Que L’Amour”, Léo Ferré, “Avec Le Temps”, e Violeta Parra, “Gracias La Vida”, são emotivamente mais distantes, mas talvez isso seja uma resposta também de amante da música portuguesa. Um trabalho que evoca um renascimento da música portuguesa num sentido erudito, mantendo a sensibilidade mais importante de todas: a proximidade com o público. (in ArteSonora)

The ELVIS PRESLEY Movie Collection - 1

Original released on LP RCA Victor LPM 1515

(US 1957, July 1)

One More Cohen

 Original released on CD Columbia 88875014292

(US 2014, September 22)

Leonard Cohen's "Popular Problems" is an uncharacteristically quick follow-up to 2012's "Old Ideas". That record, cut in the aftermath of a multi-year tour, revitalized him as a recording artist. Producer Patrick Leonard (Madonna, Bryan Ferry) serves as co-writer on all but one tune on "Popular Problems". While Cohen's sound has revolved around keyboards since 1988's "I'm Your Man", Leonard gets that the real power in the songwriter's lyrics are best relayed through his own own simple melodies. Everything here - keys, female backing chorus, acoustic instrumentation, etc. - is in their service. As always, Cohen's songs - delivered in his deepest earth rasp - offer protagonists who are ambivalent spiritual seekers, lusty, commitment-phobic lovers, and jaded, untrusting / untrustworthy world citizens. He is them, they are him: strangers hiding in plain sight. Opener "Slow" is paced by a blues vamp from an electric piano and kick drum. "...You want to get there soon  / I want to get there last..." is delivered in a streetwise croak. It's a fine career metaphor, but the hilarious double entendre is self evident, too: "...All your turns are tight / Let me catch my breath / I thought we had all night." "Almost Like the Blues" employs a 12-bar variant exoticized by hand percussion. Cohen juxtaposes visions of global horror with worry over bad reviews; he's culpable because of his vanity. Gospel provides illustration on some of the better songs - there are no weak ones. It's used with razored effect on "Samson in New Orleans" to address the devastation - physical, emotional, spiritual - left by Hurricane Katrina.

Cohen really attempts to sing "Did I Ever Love You." Though it comes out a measured growl, its impact is searing. It shifts from gospel to country jaunt only to circle back, underscoring the bitter, vulnerable truth in the lyric. He observes: "The lemon trees blossom / The almond trees wither," before asking: "Was I ever someone / Who could love you forever?"; he knows the answer. The keyboards and tablas in "Nevermind," a narrative of treachery and global hypocrisy, create skeletal, tense funk. They're appended by Donna De Lory's Arabic chant for peace and safety in contrast to the lyric's scathing accusations. Gospel returns on "Born in Chains," a gentle but gripping first-person account of spiritual seeking with references to Judaism, Christianity, and Cohen's adopted Zen: "...I've heard the soul unfolds / In the chambers of its longing... But all the Ladders of the Night have fallen / Only darkness now / To lift the longing up." On set closer "You Got Me Singing," Cohen, accompanied only by acoustic guitar and violin, lays out hope: "You got me singing even though the world is gone / You got me thinking I'd like to carry on." It's an open-ended, affirmative sendoff. "Popular Problems" reveals that at 80, Cohen not only has plenty left in the tank, but is at his most confident and committed. This is his finest recording since 1995's "The Future". (Thom Jurek in AllMusic)

BARRY LYNDON - OST (1975)

(VER COMENTÁRIO SOBRE O FILME AQUI)

EDDY MITCHELL with LONDON ALL STARS

Original released on LP Barclay 80207

(FRANCE, 1963)

"Eddy In London - Chante 12 Rock'n'Roll Classics", un disque qui se passe de commentaires quant à ce qu'il contient: 12 chansons des standards du rock'n'roll, reprises dans la langue de Molière. Ce disque a été enregistré à Londres, et il présente une pochette un peu niaise (Eddy tout jeunot, le Eddy de 1963, donc, assis par terre, on distingue des feuilles derrière, c'est une pochette assez automnale et gentillette). Car, musicalement, tout en ayant vieilli (comme tout disque de l'époque), ce disque est une totale réussite. "Eddy In London - Chante 12 Rock'n'Roll Classics" dure, en vinyle, 28 minutes à peu de choses près, une durée certes très rikiki, mais pas si rare que ça, et même, on peut le dire, la durée standard d'un album dans les années 60 (jusqu'aux années 1967/68 et après, où on commencera à faire des disques de plus en plus longs). On y trouve des reprises de Buddy Holly ("Peggy Sue"), Eddie Cochran ("Comment Vas-Tu Mentir?" est une adaptation de son "Come On Everybody"), Little Richard ("Jolie Miss Molly: Good Golly Miss Molly", "L'Oncle John": Long Tall Sally"), Gene Vincent ("Blue Jean Bop"), Elvis ("Sentimentale: Baby I Don't Care", "Belle Honey: Money Honey"). "Te Voici" aussi est une reprise d'une chanson que le King a chantée, en l'occurence "Mean Woman Blues". Une des meilleures de l'album, pas étonnant qu'elle soit la première des 12 ! 

Niveau musiciens, un des guitaristes, Vic Flick, n'est autre que le guitariste ayant immortalisé le fameux James Bond Theme, cette mélodie inoubliable, il faisait partie de l'orchestre de John Barry (compositeur de musiques de films). Interprétation parfaite, son remarquable (production à l'anglaise, Eddy est parti faire ce disque en Perfide Albion car il savait que le son serait différent, et sans aucun doute nettement meilleur, il n'a vraiment pas eu tort de faire ce déplacement). 12 chansons, 12 réussites, voilà de quoi faire de ce disque un chef d'oeuvre, un album essentiel, un des meilleurs albums de Schmoll et un des meilleurs albums de rock français (et de l'époque, aussi). Sans doute aussi, tant qu'à faire, un des meilleurs albums de reprises. On regrettera, il est vrai, des adaptations parfois hasardeuses (voir "Comment Vas-Tu Mentir?" dont le titre est ressemblant, un peu, de "Come On Everybody", mais le sens, évidemment, n'est absolument plus le même, c'est l'allitération au détriment de la logique ; une traduction comme "En Avant Les Amis" aurait été moins jolie, pour le titre, mais plus fidèle, pour le sens), mais c'est aussi le cas d'autres reprises en français de chansons anglophones. Mis à part ça (et une pochette gnian-gnian), ce disque, ce "Eddy In London", est quasiment intouchable !

THE BEAT OF THE POPS - VOLUME 24

Le Premier Album de JACQUES DUTRONC

Original released on LP Vogue CLD 70130

(FRANCE, 1966)

If ever Rhino considers a foreign language Nuggets compilation, the inclusion of Jacques Dutronc would be inevitable. Although succeeding albums would see him evolve stylistically into the French counterpart to Ray Davies at his creative peak, Dutronc's debut spawns vintage garage rock akin to the Yardbirds and the the Troggs. "La Fille du Père Noël" even shares a sped up Bo Diddley riff with Diddley's "I'm a Man." Other fine examples include the bluesy "Sur une Nappe de Restaurant" and the irresistibly hip shaking and buzzsaw guitar laden "Les Gens Sont Fous, les Temps Sont Flous." Though some would argue that someone like Antoine to be a more true heir to the French garage crown, Dutronc wins out by humorous lyrics (courtesy of Jacques Lanzmann) and his inseparable ironic delivery. One of the debut's signature songs, "Et Moi, et Moi, et Moi," was intended as a stab at Antoine's "Les Élucubrations d'Antoine." It succeeded in ridiculing his contemporary in two ways. Lyrically, it dissected Antoine's "Subterranean Homesick Blues" of sorts for all its narcissism. To top things off, some people mistook it for a new Antoine hit instead of identifying it as Dutronc's debut single. (Regretfully, during the mid-'70s Mungo Jerry refashioned it into the far less provocative "Alright Alright Alright.").

A few more songs deserve special mention. First off, there's the second single "Les Playboys" where Dutronc mocks stereotypical womanizers with a swaggering flair, pointing out his own seduction tactics for women in the process. (Upon recognizing the impenetrably thick layers of irony, his belle Françoise Hardy probably more than agreed to the lyrics.) The African chant of "La Compapadé" visits the same territory as Gainsbourg Percussions did two years earlier. Finally, third single "Les Cactus" made its way into the renowned French dictionary Petit Robert as a synonym for people's everyday troubles. [The following is important with regard to detailing Dutronc's discography. All seven of his albums made between 1966 and 1975 lack a proper title. To keep them apart, the first album is equally referred to by its original year of release (1966), the first song on the album ("Les Playboys") or either one of the title tunes to the preceding EPs ("Les Playboys," "Et Moi, et Moi, et Moi" or "Les Cactus"), the content of which matches exactly with the 12 songs present here.] (Quint Kik in AllMusic)