#049
Silly Season I
Sous les pavés, la plage!
A l’heure de la fermeture, Xavier chantait un vieux morceau des Vierges, “Hey les garçons si on allait à la plage ? Quoi ? Plutôt crever” et Emilie jouait de la batterie avec les paumes sur la table, ça faisait plaisir de la voir aussi contente, se souvenant parfaitement des paroles “On n’est pas le genre de mec à traîner sur les plages, quand on veut nous trouver faut chercher dans les caves, on n’est pas des anges on aime déconner” et c’était plus gracieux que sordide.
Virginie Despentes in Vernon Subutex
Estamos de volta. Eu sei, longa se tornou a espera mas começamos logo com quatro dedicações “àquele querido mês de Agosto”, tantas quantas Sextas-feiras se apresentam neste momento conhecido há muito como silly season.
Denominação brit, denota o caudal minguante de notícias interessantes em troca de frivolidades e data de 13 de Julho de 1861 a sua primeira utilização num artigo intitulado muito propositadamente “The Silly Season” na edição da Saturday Review e que teve direito a entrada directa no Oxford English Dictionary. O artigo visava especificamente uma suposta redução na qualidade do conteúdo editorial do jornal The Times durante os meses em que “Parliament is no longer sitting and the gay world is no longer gathered together in London, something very different is supposed to do for the remnant of the public from what is needed in the politer portions of the year. The Times’s great men have doubtless gone out of town, like other great men… The hands which at other times wield the pen for our instruction are now wielding the gun on a Scotch moor or the Alpenstock on a Swiss mountain. Work is left to feebler hands. In those months the great oracle becomes —what at other times it is not—simply silly. In spring and early summer, the Times is often violent, unfair, fallacious, inconsistent, intentionally unmeaning, even positively blundering, but it is very seldom merely silly…”
Punk não ia à praia, no entanto e como fiel descendente do situacionismo, viu que a praia estava mesmo ali, debaixo da calçada. Pronto, ok, os Peste & Sida até fizeram a sua gloriosa ode ao Sol da Caparica mas isso acabou por ser uma daquelas acções disruptivas que confirmava só por si a norma instalada.
Sous les pavés, la plage! Slogan de apedrejamento durante os protestos do Maio de 68 em França, foi moeda cunhada por Bernard Cousin em colaboração com o especialista em RP Bernard Fritsch e tornou-se símbolo do levantar de barricadas com as pedras duras dos passeios de cidades assentes, viriam os estudantes a descobrir, sobre moles areias.
A praia não interessava para nada ao lettriste Isidore Isou que confirmando a sua verdadeira vontade de “aniquilar o pai” Tristan Tzara inventava avarias artísticas em prole da sua arte mas também para fazer avançar a sua própria agenda de auto-promoção. O cahier La Dictature Lettriste que hoje podemos entender como exercício pueril escrevinhado com a pena de um ego desmesurado caiu no entanto como se fosse bomba de um Stuka quando da sua publicação em 1946. Começava logo pela inclusão no titulo da palavra “ditadura”, neste caso puro pavoneamento mitómano com um efeito-choque mais ou menos a par da utilização dada pelos punks à cruz suástica.
I don’t wanna holiday in the sun
I wanna go to new Belsen
I wanna see some history
‘Cause now I got a reasonable economy
The Sex Pistols – Holidays In The Sun
Ouço falar da silly season desde tenra idade. Penso nesta época desde há muito como aquele espaço temporal em que a classe politica vai a banhos enquanto o país, consumido pelo calor, arde de norte a sul. Época parva, coitadinha. Plena de reruns na TV, coisa que não causava mossa danosa numa infância de Verão passado na Arrábida, longe do pequeno ecrã e mais perto dos Esses de Azeitão. Época de tolices veraneantes mas também enriquecedoras para quem se fez músico num país em que no Verão a festa crescia do campo até à praia and-back-again.
Concetta Rosa Maria Franconero, mais conhecida como Connie Francis, gravou em 1969 uma canção pop schlager de nome Strand der 1000 Lieder (Praia das mil canções) num single que tinha como lado B a canção Lissabon. Por razões óbvias “praia” é o mot d’ordre desta semana. Sem aspas, sem duplas conotações, take it easy baby, é praia de areias brancas ou pretas que não ligamos a essas coisas da coloração que as dunas possam ter.
Strand der tausend Lieder, einmal komm ich wieder
Heißt es auch heute addio – goodbye
Strand der tausend Lieder, alles wird dann wieder
So wie es war für uns zwei
Escolhas para cacholada em qualquer lado… desde que seja na praia: The Revillos, Cliff Richard e Joan As Police Woman todos nos trazem canções chamadas On The Beach. Só a ultima é que é uma versão da canção que Neil Young gravou num album homónimo em 1974. Escolhi também On The Beach (Remix feat. Balage) do músico húngaro Marcel no seu album de estreia Viginti Etduo editado pela Mole Listening Pearls em 1998. No caso de já ninguém se lembrar o nome do disco é titulo da curta metragem escrita e realizada pelo companheiro Ithaka Darin Pappas, um grego da Califórnia que andou por Portugal na alvorada dos anos 90.
Mas é o mestre Brian Eno que leva esta coisa toda um pouco mais longe com On Some Far Away Beach, tema no seu primeiro album a solo depois de saltar fora dos Roxy Music. Híbrido de glam e art rock, Here Come The Warm Jets foi gravado em 1973 com inumeros convidados incluindo Robert Fripp dos King Crimson, membros da Roxy Music, Hawkwind, Matching Mole e The Pink Fairies. Eno desenvolveu todo o trabalho usando métodos bastante abstractos, dançando para os membros da banda enquanto os fazia tocar de acordo ou cantando palavras sem sentido para si mesmo que formariam a base das letras que subsequentemente seriam gravadas (método replicado por David Byrne uns anos mais tarde nos Talking Heads).
Ao reparar nas pegadas largadas por este extenso areal, onde a Maysa invoca As Praias Desertas enquanto o Zeca Afonso nos conta tudo sobre Os Índios da Meia-Praia, lembro-me que talvez tenha deixado de fora o Victor Espadinha enquanto cantava “sim eu sei, que tudo são recordações” mas rápidamente incluo uma versão desse mesmo L’été Indien mas numa interpretação datada de 1976 de Nancy Sinatra com Lee Hazlewood.
Os Beach Boys logicamente tinham de estar envolvidos nesta aquática operação de escuta a tudo o que meta água: Beaches In Mind, do album That’s Why God Made The Radio, editado em 2012 para comemorar os 50 anos da banda. Mas mais à frente, o mega-fã Will C. presenteia-nos com In An Ocean, datado de 2012 e que está incluído no album Adieu or Die, uma vénia sim a Brian Wilson & companhia mas também parte de uma colecção de clássicos dos Beach Boys “rewired for the computer age”.
Le plus dur à Saint-Trop’ c’est de dégauchir des p’tites minettes
Du genre de celle qui enveloppe la viande du chat dans le chèque en blanc
Sur la plage de Pampelonne uniquement fringuées de leurs lunettes,
Huilées comme des salades elles se font toutes bronzer le cadran
Cadran lunaire la bonne affaire
Cadran polaire il est minuit docteur Schweitzer
J’en ai vu un qui marque la demie
Un lumineux que je poserai bien sur ma table de nuit
C’est au mois d’août qu’on met les bouts
Qu’on fait les fous les gros matous les sapajous
C’est l’été les vacances le soleil doux, doux, doux, doux
Pierre Perret – C’est au mois d’août
Que este fim de semana seja de pé no chinelo e cabeça nas nuvens…
#staysafe #musicfortheweekend
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A l’heure de la fermeture, Xavier chantait un vieux morceau des Vierges, “Hey les garçons si on allait à la plage ? Quoi ? Plutôt crever” et Emilie jouait de la batterie avec les paumes sur la table, ça faisait plaisir de la voir aussi contente, se souvenant parfaitement des paroles “On n’est pas le genre de mec à traîner sur les plages, quand on veut nous trouver faut chercher dans les caves, on n’est pas des anges on aime déconner” et c’était plus gracieux que sordide.
Virginie Despentes in Vernon Subutex
We’re back. I know the wait was long. But we start right away with four dedications to “that dear month of August”, as many as Fridays present themselves in this moment known for a long time as the silly season.
A brit monicker denoting the waning flow of interesting news in exchange for sheer frivolity dates from the 13th July 1861, its first use in an article very purposefully titled “The Silly Season” in the Saturday Review edition and which had direct entry into Oxford English Dictionary. The piece was specifically aimed at an alleged reduction in quality of all editorial content in The Times newspaper during the months when “Parliament is no longer sitting and the gay world is no longer gathered together in London, something very different is supposed to do for the remnant of the public from what is needed in the politer portions of the year. The Times’s great men have doubtless gone out of town, like other great men… The hands which at other times wield the pen for our instruction are now wielding the gun on a Scotch moor or the Alpenstock on a Swiss mountain. Work is left to feebler hands… In those months the great oracle becomes —what at other times it is not—simply silly. In spring and early summer, the Times is often violent, unfair, fallacious, inconsistent, intentionally unmeaning, even positively blundering, but it is very seldom merely silly…
Punk didn’t go to the beach, however, and as a faithful descendant of Situationism, it understood that the beach was right there, under the sidewalk. Okay, ok, Peste & Sida even made their glorious ode to Sol da Caparica, but that turned out to be one of those disruptive actions only confirming by itself the installed standard.
Sous les pavés, la plage! A slogan set to stone during the May 68 protests in France, it was coined by Bernard Cousin in collaboration with PR expert Bernard Fritsch and became a symbol of the raising of barricades with the hard stones of city pavements set, students would come to discover, on soft sands.
The beach was of no interest to lettriste Isidore Isou who, confirming his true desire to “annihilate his father”, Tristan Tzara invented artistic derangement as an offspring of his art but also to advance his own self-promotional agenda. The cahier La Dictature Lettriste, which can be viewed today as a puerile exercise scribbled with the pen of a disproportionate ego, nevertheless fell like a Stuka bomb when it was published in 1946. It began with the inclusion in the title of the word “dictatorship”, in this case the strutting of a mythomanic but with a shock-effect more or less in line with the punks’ use of the swastika a few decades later.
I don’t wanna holiday in the sun
I wanna go to new Belsen
I wanna see some history
‘Cause now I got a reasonable economy
The Sex Pistols – Holidays In The Sun
I’ve been hearing about the silly season since an early age. And I have thought of this season for a long time as that time frame in which the political class goes bathing while the country, consumed by the heat, burns from north to south. Silly times, silly poor thing. Plenty of reruns on TV, something that didn’t cause harmful dents in a childhood spending holidays in Arrábida, far from the small screen and closer to the Esses from Azeitão. A time for vacation nonsense but also enriching for those who had decided to become musicians in a country where in summer the party grew from the countryside to the beach and-back-again.
Concetta Rosa Maria Franconero, better known as Connie Francis, recorded in 1969 a schlager pop song called Strand der 1000 Lieder (Beach of a thousand songs) in a single that had a track titled Lissabon as its B side. For obvious reasons “beach” is this week’s mot d’odre. No quotes, no double entendres, take it easy, it’s a white or black sand beach baby that we don’t care about the colouring that the dunes might have.
Choices for splashing anywhere… as long as it’s on the beach: The Revillos, Cliff Richard and Joan As Police Woman all bring us songs called On The Beach. Only the last one is a version of the song that Neil Young recorded on a self-titled album in 1974. I also chose Hungarian musician Marcel’s On The Beach (Remix feat. Balage) on his debut album Viginti Etduo released by Mole Listening Pearls in 1998. In case no one remembers the name of the album is the title of a short film written and directed by fellow friend Ithaka Darin Pappas, a Greek from California who wandered through Portugal at the dawn of the 90s.
But it’s master Brian Eno who takes this whole thing one step further with On Some Far Away Beach, the subject of his first solo album after jumping out of Roxy Music. A hybrid of glam and art rock, Here Come The Warm Jets was recorded in 1973 with numerous guests including King Crimson’s Robert Fripp, members of Roxy Music, Hawkwind, Matching Mole and The Pink Fairies. Eno carried out the entire work using rather abstract methods like dancing for the band members while making them play accordingly or singing nonsense words to himself that would form the basis of the lyrics subsequently recorded (method replicated by David Byrne a few years later in the Talking Heads).
Noticing the footprints left along this extensive stretch of sand, where Maysa invokes As Praias Desertas while Zeca Afonso tells us all about Os Índios da Meia-Praia, I remember that maybe I left out Victor Espadinha while singing “sim eu sei, que tudo são recordações” but I quickly include a version of that same L’été Indien but in a 1976 interpretation of Nancy Sinatra with Lee Hazlewood.
The Beach Boys logically had to be involved in this aquatic operation of listening to anything beachy and watery: Beaches In Mind, from the album That’s Why God Made The Radio, released in 2012 to celebrate the band’s 50th anniversary. Further on mega-fan Will C. presents us with In An Ocean, dated 2012 and which is included in the album Adieu or Die, a solemn bow to Brian Wilson & company but also part of a collection of Beach Boys classics “rewired for the computer age”.
Le plus dur à Saint-Trop’ c’est de dégauchir des p’tites minettes
Du genre de celle qui enveloppe la viande du chat dans le chèque en blanc
Sur la plage de Pampelonne uniquement fringuées de leurs lunettes,
Huilées comme des salades elles se font toutes bronzer le cadran
Cadran lunaire la bonne affaire
Cadran polaire il est minuit docteur Schweitzer
J’en ai vu un qui marque la demie
Un lumineux que je poserai bien sur ma table de nuit
C’est au mois d’août qu’on met les bouts
Qu’on fait les fous les gros matous les sapajous
C’est l’été les vacances le soleil doux, doux, doux, doux
Pierre Perret – C’est au mois d’Août
This weekend stand in your slippers with your head in the clouds…
#staysafe #musicfortheweekend
Righeira – Vamos A La Playa
Frank & The Top Ten – Beach Bunny
Jeremy Power – Ombre De Plaisir
Nancy Sinatra – (L’été Indien) Indian Summer
Patrick Cowley – Hot Beach
Fausto – A Ilha
The Revillos – On The Beach
Isolee – Beau Mot Plage (Freeform Reform Parts I & II)
The Beach Boys – Beaches In Mind
Thompson Twins – Beach Culture
Funkadelic – Be My Beach (Mophono & Tom Thump)
First Class – Beach Baby
King Curtis & The Noble Knights – Beach Party
Messer Chups – Cemetery Beach
Simone Mazzer et Cotonete – L’amour à la Plage
Marcel – On The Beach (Remix feat. Balage)
Harpers Bizarre – Come to the Sunshine
Maysa – As Praias Desertas
Seaside Lovers – Wind, Wave and Wineglass
Martha & The Muffins – Echo Beach
Petite Noir – Beach feat. Danny Brown & Nukubi Nukubi
Adolfo Waitzman Orquesta – Montecarlo Beach
Will C. x The Beach Boys – In An Ocean
Testpattern – Beach Girl
Jean Tonique feat. Bleu Platine – En Voilier
Joan As Police Woman – On the Beach
Richard Schneider Jr – Hello Beach Girls
José Afonso – Os Índios Da Meia-Praia
Monodeluxe – At The Beach
Living Room – Kids On Beach
Connie Francis – Strand Der Tausend Lieder
Blair French – La Playa De Terciopelo feat. Stephanie Leon
Cliff Richard – On the Beach
The Mar-Keys – Beach Bash
Horatio Luna – Northern Beaches
Bio Bonsai – Paradise Beach
J-Boogie – Day At The Beach
Peste & Sida – Sol da Caparica
Pierre Perret – C’est au Mois d’Août
Brian Eno – On Some Far Away Beach