The Spirit of the Radio

I’ve grown up with the sound of a radio always on. Now that I am gradually recapturing my time and my good ol’ habits, this sound has truly come back into my everyday life.

After having wandered through thousands of streams, genres, languages and noises coming from all over the connected world, I have recently discovered (thank you, S.) that there still are radio stations made of dedication, culture and the passion for sharing good music.

Just give Radio Paradise a try and you’ll see…

Cheers, HC

 

The Dying of the Light (SSFD #7)

You get into a music shop and almost randomly buy a record. You listen and you suddenly you feel overwhelmed by a huge wave of melancholy: somewhere there is a guy who told the tale you thought was yours, his words and music sound so familiar. Is he a stranger, a childhood friend or just another parallel life? And you smile…

“And I was told that the streets were paved with gold
And there’d be no time for getting old when we were young
But it’s alright if you dance with me tonight
We’ll fight the dying of the light and we’ll catch the sun”

3 Libras (SSFD #6)

We can lose ourselves into someone else’s eyes, play with bodies and feelings and finally find that all we have in return is… nothing more than some kind of beauty, filled up with solid emptiness and a good dose of narcissism. Falling in love is not a wise option, but we are only human (and s**t happens)…

And sometimes we stumble upon a song which reminds us of such a weird diversion. Enjoy, my friends.

Threw you the obvious
and you flew with it on your back
a name in your recollection
down among a million same

Difficult not to feel a little bit
disappointed and passed over
when I’ve looked right through
to see you naked but oblivious
and you don’t see me

But I threw you the obvious
just to see if there’s more behind
the eyes of a fallen angel
eyes of a tragedy

Here I am expecting just a little bit too much
From the wounded but I see through it all and see you

‘Cause I threw you the obvious
to see what occurs behind the eyes of a fallen angel
Eyes of a tragedy
oh well, oh well apparently nothing
apparently nothing at all

You don’t see me at all.

Soon we’ll be found (SSFD #5)

I fell instantly in love with the beautiful and unique voice of Sia Furler one night, when she performed on this very TV show. Ever since, she has become quite a star both as a singer and a songwriter, moved from Australia to the US and collaborated with mainstream pop artists like David Guetta, Beyoncé and Rhianna. But in my mind she has remained the fragile, funny and moving artist I found out that night. Enjoy…

Come along it is the break of day
Surely now, you’ll have some things to say
It’s not the time for telling tales on me
So come along, it won’t be long ’til we return happy
Shut your eyes, there are no lies in this world we call sleep
Let’s desert this day of hurt, tomorrow we’ll be free

Let’s not fight, I’m tired, can’t we just sleep tonight?
Don’t turn away, it’s just there’s nothing left here to say
Turn around, I know we’re lost but soon we’ll be found

Well, it’s been rough but we’ll be just fine
We’ll work it out, yeah, we’ll survive
You mustn’t let a few bad times dictate
So come along, it won’t be long ’til we return happy
Shut your eyes, there are no lies in this world we call sleep
Let’s desert this day of hurt, tomorrow we’ll be free

Let’s not fight, I’m tired, can’t we just sleep tonight?
Don’t turn away, it’s just there’s nothing left here to say
Turn around, I know we’re lost but soon we’ll be found

Somewhere only we know (SSFD #4)

A place that I can share with anyone I want. A world apart, where doubts and hopes can freely collide in soft bounces and glittering colors. My somewhere is a very peaceful world: no one to wait for, no one to blame, no more tears. And you will never be late, in my land of somewhere. Please love, join me there tonight.

I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete

Oh simple thing where have you gone?
I’m getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you’re gonna let me in
I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I’ve been dreaming of?

Oh simple thing where have you gone?
I’m getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you’re gonna let me in
I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute why don’t we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don’t we go somewhere only we know?

A night with Therapy?

Therapy? is a rock band from Northern Ireland. I have been following them since 1994 and their amazing Troublegum album and never missed a record ever since. I didn’t dare to hope to see them live one day, as they almost never hit the France during their tours.

So what a huge surprise when I found out, just one day before the show, that they were coming to my town!

Small venue, front row and a huge concert. And, in the end, a beer and a chat with three amazing guys. I left with a few selfies, Andy’s pick and my heart full of childish joy for having finally had the possibility to tell them how much their music has meant to me over the years. Thank you Andy, Neal and Michael for this unforgettable night!

Toulouse – Jan 30, 2016

When Poets Dreamed of Angels (SSFD #3)

Back in the late 70s, his first band Japan had too quickly been classified as part of the New Romantics wave, maybe because of its Duran-like dress code. So wrong, there was so much more behind their electronic drums.

When the band dissolved in 1983, David Sylvian started his solo career. I fell deeply in love with his profound voice in 1987, when his Secrets of the beehive shattered all my ideas and schemes about music. His songs were a mix of world, ambient and jazz music, his lyrics constantly drenched into a sort of pagan spirituality. Million miles away from the needs of the business, there was some pure beauty in his work, something that unleashed it from the constraints of time and made it the perfect record for my perfect desert island. It still is, almost thirty years after…

Put your earphones on and enjoy, my friends.

“She rises early from bed, runs to the mirror
The bruises inflicted in moments of fury
He kneels beside her once more, whispers a promise
“Next time, I’ll break every bone in your body”

And the well-wishers let the devil in
If the river ran dry, they’d deny it happening

As the card players deal their hands
From the bottom of the deck
Row upon row of feudal houses blown away
Medicine for the popular complaint

When the poets dreamed of angels, what did they see?
History lined up in a flash at their backs
When the poets dreamed of angels, what did they see?
The bishops and knights well placed to attack”

Nothingman (SSFD #2)

This is one of the bands I’ve grown up with. At first, they just sounded like one of the fresh rock bands surfing (good metaphor Mr Vedder, isn’t it?) on that restless Seattle wave called grunge. What a healthy way to end the 80s, after so many glittering dance floor tunes…

That wave broke onto the shore before the new century, bringing along its lot of splitting bands and the bodies of those for whom the star system had been a too heavy burden.

Pearl Jam went on. They changed by not changing at all. And kept in touch from time to time, with their unchanged and natural affection, like only good friends can do. Enjoy.

“Once divided, nothing left to subtract
some words when spoken can’t be taken back
walks on his own with thoughts he can’t help thinking
future’s above but in the past he’s slow and sinking
caught a bolt ‘a lightnin’, cursed the day he let it go…

nothingman, nothingman,
isn’t it something? nothingman…

she once believed in every story he had to tell
one day she stiffened, took the other side
empty stares from each corner of a shared prison cell
one just escapes, one’s left inside the well
and he who forgets will be destined to remember…

oh, she don’t want him
oh, she won’t feed him
after he’s flown away
into the sun, into the sun, burn, burn…”