O melhor golo do ano na própria baliza:

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Diz aí, Legião!

Ora então aí vai mais uma a assinalar as eleições no Brasil (e esta tem quase 30 anos). O génio responsável por esta e outras obras-primas do rock brasileiro chamava-se (já morreu) Renato Russo, e a sua primeira banda tinha o simpático nome de Aborto Elétrico.

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Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - "Beat The Devil's Tattoo"

... e esta pra malta das tatuagens. Ó, DJ, pra ti!...



You have forsaken all the love you’ve taken
Sleeping on a razor there’s nowhere left to fall
Your body’s aching every bone is breaking
Nothing seems to shake it it just keeps holding on
Ah ah ah ah

Your soul is able death is all you cradle
Sleeping on the nails there’s nowhere left to fall
You have admired every man desires
Everyone is king when there’s no one left to pawn
Ah ah ah ah

There is no peace here war is never cheap here
Love will never meet it it just gets sold for parts
You cannot fight it all the world denies it
Open up your eyelids and let your demons run
Ah ah ah

I thread the needle through you beat the devil’s tattoo
I thread the needle through you beat the devil’s tattoo

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Hypernova - "Fairy Tales"

Dedicada aos gajos que têm filhas ;)...



There's a little girl that I am madly in love with
She's only seventeen and she's testing my patience
She knows what I want and I know what she needs
But we both know that we should not proceed
Father please forgive me for I've sinned again
And again and again and again and again

She's a victim of the times daddy's tryin' to find
A way to keep his baby in line
He's got it all figured out, hell keep her locked in the house
And wont let her see or hear no evil
Don't you know the more you push the more she runs?
Run away run away run away run away

These are the fairy tales that don't have happy endings
These are the fairy tales that never ever ever end
These are the fairy tales that don't have happy endings
These are the fairy tales that never ever ever end

I promised her the world and she ate every word
She left her life in a sudden urge
She came along for the ride, now she's lost she starts to cry
The big bad wolf is at her door
Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest mother f*cker of all?
It ain't me it ain't me it ain't me it ain't me

There's no going back now, it's way too late
Her innocence is lost now nothing remains

These are the fairy tales that don't have happy endings
These are the fairy tales that never ever ever end
These are the fairy tales that don't have happy endings
These are the fairy tales that never ever ever end

These are the fairy tales that don't have happy endings
These are the fairy tales that never ever ever end
These are the fairy tales that don't have happy endings
These are the fairy tales that never ever ever end

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Mellowdrone

O refrão faz lembrar Franz Ferdinand...



PS: Ó, Tiberius, o mundo aguarda ansioso os Prémios Tiberius (segunda fase)...

Frase do dia

"Antes o So Big nas Antas que o Paulo Bento. Porra, antes o Nelinho Briosa."
Tiberius

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O mata-moscas das enguias



Ó Ernesto, por falar em enguias, quando é que voltamos a atacá-las em Alcochete?

Top Manta do Núcleo
The Raconteurs

Estava em Inglaterra quando vi esta preciosidade no "Culture Club" da BBC2. "Carolina Drama", by The Raconteurs. O vocalista é o Jack White, esse mesmo, o dos White Stripes. Por baixo, a letra, que é genial.



I'm not sure if there's a point to this story
But I'm going to tell it again
So many other people try to tell the tale
Not one of them knows the end

It was a junk-house in South Carolina
Held a boy the age of ten
Along with his older brother Billy
And a mother and her boyfriend
Who was a triple loser with some blue tattoos
That were given to him when he was young
And a drunk temper that was easy to lose
And thank god he didn't own a gun

Well, Billy woke up in the back of his truck
Took a minute to open his eyes
He took a peep into the back of the house
And found himself a big surprise
He didn't see his brother but there was his mother
With her red-headed head in her hands
While the boyfriend had his gloves wrapped around an
old priest
Trying to choke the man

Ah Ah Ahhh...

Billy looked up from the window to the truck
Threw up, and had to struggle to stand
He saw that red-necked bastard with a hammer
Turn the priest into a shell of a man
The priest was putting up the fight of his life
But he was old and he was bound to lose
The boyfriend hit as hard as he could
And knocked the priest right down to his shoes

Well, now Billy knew but never actually met
The preacher lying there in the room
He heard himself say, "That must be my daddy"
Then he knew what he was gonna do
Billy got up enough courage, took it up
And grabbed the first blunt thing he could find
It was a cold, glass bottle of milk
That got delivered every morning at nine

Ah Ah Ahhh...

Billy broke in and saw the blood on the floor, and
He turned around and put the lock on the door
He looked dead into the boyfriend's eye
His mother was a ghost, too upset to cry, then
He took a step toward the man on the ground
From his mouth trickled out a little audible sound
He heard the boyfriend shout, "Get out!"
And Billy said, "Not till I know what this is all
about"
"Well, this preacher here was attacking your mama"
But Billy knew just who was starting the drama
So Billy took dead aim at his face
And smashed the bottle on the man who left his dad in
disgrace, and
The white milk dripped down with the blood, and the
Boyfriend fell down dead for good
Right next to the preacher who was gasping for air
And Billy shouted, "Daddy, why'd you have to come back
here?"
His mama reached behind the sugar and honey, and
Pulled out an envelope filled with money
"Your daddy gave us this," she collapsed in tears
"He's been paying all the bills for years"
"Mama, let's put this body underneath the trees
and put Daddy in the truck and head to Tennessee"
Just then, his little brother came in
Holding the milk man's hat and a bottle of gin
singing,

La la la la, la la la la, yeah
(etc...)

Well now you heard another side to the story
But you wanna know how it ends?
If you must know, the truth about the tale
Go and ask the milkman

As lições do tio T
Não meter as mães nas brigas

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Super Bock

Eu e o DJ Carcaça estivemos ontem no Super Bock Super Rock, onde curtimos o som hipnótico dos Interpol. Também desbundámos os Scissor Sisters - apesar das paneleiragens - confirmando o que já havia aqui sido dito pelo rabeta do Tiberius. DJ, companheiro, esta vai para ti: