segunda-feira, 24 de janeiro de 2011
quarta-feira, 19 de janeiro de 2011
DDD STUDIO!
A pedido de muitas famílias, apresentamos de seguida o report do nosso 1º ensaio:
Sábado (15 Jan) foi dia de saltar cedo da cama. Após largos minutos de malabarismos com o GPS lá encontrámos a maldita rua, cujo nome existe com o único propósito de tornar impossível a sua memorização.
Depois de levarmos as traquitanas todas para dentro pudemos finalmente começar a fazer barulho. Barulho esse que se propagou durante 4horas, até as barrigas gritarem desesperadamente por alimento. Mas o que vocês querem mesmo saber foi o que se passou durante essas 4horas, e nós explicamos; uns quantos riffs improvisados, uns quantos palavrões à mesa de som, uma visita da menina Polly e, por fim, ainda houve tempo para Fake Tales ecoarem pelo estúdio.
Who's your Daddy?
Daddy Don't Disco
sexta-feira, 14 de janeiro de 2011
Who's your DADDY???
Depois de uma longa, embora curta, reunião entre os elementos da banda (e não só), chegámos a um veredicto.
Vamos fazer 3 covers de 3 bandas diferentes:
"Polly" dos aclamados reis do Grunge, os Nirvana
"Given to Fly" de uma das bandas mais carismáticas desde os anos 90, os Pearl Jam
"Fake Tales of San Francisco" dos novos mas muito bons rapazes de Sheffield, os Arctic Monkeys
Os ensaios começam este Sábado num estúdio em Caxias!
Who's your DADDY?
Daddy Don't Disco
segunda-feira, 10 de janeiro de 2011
Cop Killer's Rage
Primeiro vou fazer uma introdução a esta letra.
Esta música sai bastante do estilo da banda, mas penso que isso faz parte da nossa diversidade enquanto grupo.
Esta letra não é para ser levada a sério, pois também não foi escrita para ser interpretada dessa forma.
Sou da opinião que não há limites na música, que o razoável não tem que existir e que mesmo temas muito negativos e agressivos podem ser explorados e passados para o papel com resultados positivos.
Foi essa negatividade com um toque de humor (muito) negro e subtil que tentei transmitir, apesar de saber que muitos de vocês não o irão perceber.
Já agora informo que não estou a pensar fazer uma "kill spree" de Srs. agentes. Tenho todo o respeito pelos policias que zelam pela nossa segurança e fazem o seu trabalho correctamente. Revoltam-me no entanto os que não o fazem e que abusam da autoridade que lhes dada.
Sem mais justificações e opiniões, here it is:
Cop Killer’s Rage
“Police officers are your friends”
Shut up bitch!
I hate them pigs
walking around
Carrying their Sigs
Yeah, were cop killers
Wont hesitate to collect anotha badge
LVHC, we live on the edge
No exception, FBI, DEA
Gunned them all down with my colt m4a
COP KILLA , COP KILLA
We do it for the Thrilla X2
When cops see me dealing on the corner
They look and drive by…..
I scream : Hey pig, don’t be shy!
………………….
COP KILLA , COP KILLA
We do it for the Thrilla X4
Cops don’t wanna pull me over….
Cause instead of ID, they’ll get an AT
I know its hard but that’s how we ride
Blue uniforms
Can turn and hide
There’s no justice in the streets
So fuck the police
They call me a disease
Cause I kill’em with ease
Too bad…
…………………………………….
And to finish….
I warn you cop
The fun wont stop
FUCK THE LAW, WERE RAW
COP KILLA, COP KILLA
We do it for the Thrilla X4
Bring it back
COP KILLA , COP KILLA
We do it for the Thrilla X2
MUTHAFUCKA!
Gustavo Roxo
quarta-feira, 5 de janeiro de 2011
Centrefolds
Can't seem to get this inside my brain
The more I try, the more we sink
And pain,
It will always be a drink
to take,
the more you dream, the more you stay awake
And what you seem,
you fake,
what you try to be, you make
drawings of lions and fantasies,
the shakes,
you feel on your knees,
they break,
Leaning against trees,
to revive last summer.
Chorus
Everyone tries to be someone that's long dead.
Ignoring the tears their family shed.
The paintings are all drowned in red,
Of centrefolds poisoned by breathing lead (2x)
Remember, you turned to me and said,
"Life is just another road ahead",
Walk another step in line,
Then you will find your chance to shine.
All the things you talked about,
Of ballerinas and hustlers who ran their mouth,
Being something they aren't everyday,
Smoking joints to take the pain away,
why would they be different?...
Chorus
Everyone tries to be someone that's long dead.
Ignoring the tears their family shed.
The paintings are all drowned in red,
Of centrefolds poisoned by breathing lead (2x)
Can't seem to get this inside my brain
The more I try, the more we sink
And pain,
It will be always a drink
to take,
the more you dream, the more you stay awake.
Miguel Afonso
Can't seem to get this inside my brain
The more I try, the more we sink
And pain,
It will always be a drink
to take,
the more you dream, the more you stay awake
And what you seem,
you fake,
what you try to be, you make
drawings of lions and fantasies,
the shakes,
you feel on your knees,
they break,
Leaning against trees,
to revive last summer.
Chorus
Everyone tries to be someone that's long dead.
Ignoring the tears their family shed.
The paintings are all drowned in red,
Of centrefolds poisoned by breathing lead (2x)
Remember, you turned to me and said,
"Life is just another road ahead",
Walk another step in line,
Then you will find your chance to shine.
All the things you talked about,
Of ballerinas and hustlers who ran their mouth,
Being something they aren't everyday,
Smoking joints to take the pain away,
why would they be different?...
Chorus
Everyone tries to be someone that's long dead.
Ignoring the tears their family shed.
The paintings are all drowned in red,
Of centrefolds poisoned by breathing lead (2x)
Can't seem to get this inside my brain
The more I try, the more we sink
And pain,
It will be always a drink
to take,
the more you dream, the more you stay awake.
Miguel Afonso
Everytime I Rise, I See You Falling.
When I dive, you come up
When you let go, I stay stuck.
When I crash you dodge the bullet
I got kissed by lady luck.
When you cry, I fake a smile
I'm sorry if that's not your style,
I face up while you bow down,
You still look lovely in that gown.
to be concluded...
Miguel Afonso
When I dive, you come up
When you let go, I stay stuck.
When I crash you dodge the bullet
I got kissed by lady luck.
When you cry, I fake a smile
I'm sorry if that's not your style,
I face up while you bow down,
You still look lovely in that gown.
to be concluded...
Miguel Afonso
Dirt
Whispers. Tries to catch her eye.
Attempts to speak as the flowers die.
Crawls to her, washes his feelings down.
Dreams of her, yet he'll have to drown.
Talks to her. Talks himself to sleep.
Fears for her, fears his dreams to keep.
Grasps her dreams, her wishes
Begs to stars and crosses
Breaks him down gently,
'Cause he's still mourning his losses.
He kills reason itself,
And still finds nothing.
Her hairs lie on a shelf,
Treasure Coffin.
He will never get her,
She's bored of love from him.
She loathes his presence.
So he watches from a distance.
He wants to feel her.
She wants to pull apart.
Dreams have turned to dirt.
Dirt became his heart.
Miguel Afonso
Whispers. Tries to catch her eye.
Attempts to speak as the flowers die.
Crawls to her, washes his feelings down.
Dreams of her, yet he'll have to drown.
Talks to her. Talks himself to sleep.
Fears for her, fears his dreams to keep.
Grasps her dreams, her wishes
Begs to stars and crosses
Breaks him down gently,
'Cause he's still mourning his losses.
He kills reason itself,
And still finds nothing.
Her hairs lie on a shelf,
Treasure Coffin.
He will never get her,
She's bored of love from him.
She loathes his presence.
So he watches from a distance.
He wants to feel her.
She wants to pull apart.
Dreams have turned to dirt.
Dirt became his heart.
Miguel Afonso
DAD
Wipes the ashes from the table,
as a tear slides down his cheek,
He's dead now, no point wallowing,
No more secrets to keep.
No more pain, no more wait
No more fisherman and bait.
No more accidental laughs,
No more friday nights,
No more hugs, or drunken "good night" 's
No more amazing people to look up to
No more dishes, no more smell of blue.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
No more smirks, singing loud.
No more gestures to make you proud.
No more dreams that won't come true.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
No more heroic good mood in the morning.
No more smiles, deep, and reassuring,
No more poetic sentences of which you don't have a clue.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
No more creatures he'd spook away.
No more empty promises of a last rainy day.
No more chairs made without glue.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
No more soft-spoken whispers in your ear.
No more safety whenever he's near.
Time to step into his shoe.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
Miguel Afonso
Wipes the ashes from the table,
as a tear slides down his cheek,
He's dead now, no point wallowing,
No more secrets to keep.
No more pain, no more wait
No more fisherman and bait.
No more accidental laughs,
No more friday nights,
No more hugs, or drunken "good night" 's
No more amazing people to look up to
No more dishes, no more smell of blue.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
No more smirks, singing loud.
No more gestures to make you proud.
No more dreams that won't come true.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
No more heroic good mood in the morning.
No more smiles, deep, and reassuring,
No more poetic sentences of which you don't have a clue.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
No more creatures he'd spook away.
No more empty promises of a last rainy day.
No more chairs made without glue.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
No more soft-spoken whispers in your ear.
No more safety whenever he's near.
Time to step into his shoe.
He's gone. And with him a part of you.
Miguel Afonso
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