Mais vous avez quoi dans les oreilles?

Je pense que c'est le mini-cd, je ne sais plus le titre.... I might be wrong live recordings je crois.
ça doit se trouver Idiotèque en live non?

And now: Of Montreal

Ah oué, c'est le mini live officiel.

Trop cher c'est abusé ><

Overhead - as stolen

Arcade Fire - Neon Bible



Argh encore un peu plus d'une semaine à attendre

John Lee Hooker

En ce moment, les BBBrunes beaucoup tout le temps on va dire

Et puis là maintenant, les Libertines, mais j'sais pas pourquoi à chaque fois ca me plonge dans la nostalgie déprime c'est pas terrible.

The Clash - Combat Rock
Bien sympa cette album

Je l'ai eu en live Idotheque à NPA (où Thom a pété un boulon après d'ailleurs ).
Mais moi je suis une fan de The Bends quand pas grand monde écoutait ce groupe, après j'ai carrément lâché.

Sinon là j'écoute le dernier Kaiser Chiefs et j'aime beaucoup.

Kasabian - shoot the runner, shoot shoot the runneeeeeeer

i'm the king and she's not the queen

j'adore le clip

She's MY queen plutôt

C'est plutôt devant le clip de Me Plus One que tu devrais baver parce que celui de Shoot The Runner est pas terrible (surtout après le magnifique Empire )

J'ai pas les lyrics :p

Ouais mais moi Kasabian, je trouve pas ça affolant comme tout le monde.

Sauf que Shoot the runner, j'suis tombé devant chez un copain à 3h du mat' en étant saoul, j'ai bloqué à mort sur le visuel et le son.

Empire, bof.

The Vines - dope train

Faut pas les oublier nos vignes

Melancholy_Flower a écrit:

Sinon là j'écoute le dernier Kaiser Chiefs et j'aime beaucoup.

Idem

et aussi Wincing The Night Away des Shins

une petite cure de razorlight, five o clock heroes, et de the vines en rentrant de rennes: ça fait vraiment du bien !!!!

Maximo Park - A Certain Trigger

Cte weekend

Nine Black Alps
Oasis
Jet

z'ont de la bonne zik dans les pubs anglais.

PJ Harvey - naked cousin.

Iam - l'école du micro d'argent
Comme un aimant - bande originale.

Non j'ai pas honte.

Maximo Park - Our Velocity
Ca fesait lontemps que je n'avais pas entendu un tube pareil

The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines The Vines .

J'étais en manque.

Et aussi Stereophonics, Dinosaur Jr, Dolly.

j'ai fait un petit scotchage sur the fratellis

Albums du jour :
Just Jack - Overtones
Audio Bullys - Ego War

I seeee your faace on a clouuuud

Death Cab For Cutie - transatlanticism
Pagodaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Dandy Warhols - toute la disco

Bryan Ferry - Dylanesque
Pas grand intérêt, mais sympa.
Bee Gees - First
Grande surprise ! C'est pas du tout les Bee Gees castrés qu'on entend normalement, je suis sur les g'noux !

PAGODAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Tout l'album, et là Amego


SOMEONE KILLED MY SON WITH A HEAAAAAAAAVY GUUUUUUUUUUN
THEY SHOT AND WORE HIIIM DOOOOOOWN
NOOOOOW FROW
WANNA FROOOWN ON MEEEE
I'LL MAKE YOUUUU SEEEEE
JUST HOW UGLY I AAAAAM
DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN

LALALALALALAAAA
MY FRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEND
LALALALALALAAAAA
THE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEND
LALALALALAAAAAA
I AAAAAAAAAAAAAAM

BLAH BLAH BLAH BAH BAH BAAAAAAAAH, PWAAA PWAAAAA PWAAA PWAAAAA PWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH



PUTAIN MAIS CETTE CHANSON, non, cet album, ENVOIE SES TETES DECAPITEES DE PHOQUES PAKISTANAIS SODOMISES PAR DES OURS AFRICAINS QUOI

Excusez moi je m'emporte.

J'incite le downloading du fichier rapidshaore du topic Pagoda, l'album est repoussé encore une fois fin mai en Europe.

Lolaz a écrit:

Bee Gees - First
Grande surprise ! C'est pas du tout les Bee Gees castrés qu'on entend normalement, je suis sur les g'noux !

Faut que j'écoute ça aussi

The Clash - I Fought The Law

Koma a écrit:

SOMEONE KILLED MY SON WITH A HEAAAAAAAAVY GUUUUUUUUUUN
THEY SHOT AND WORE HIIIM DOOOOOOWN
NOOOOOW FROW
WANNA FROOOWN ON MEEEE
I'LL MAKE YOUUUU SEEEEE
JUST HOW UGLY I AAAAAM
DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN

LALALALALALAAAA
MY FRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEND
LALALALALALAAAAA
THE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEND
LALALALALAAAAAA
I AAAAAAAAAAAAAAM

BLAH BLAH BLAH BAH BAH BAAAAAAAAH, PWAAA PWAAAAA PWAAA PWAAAAA PWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

non mais sérieux Koma, ces lyrics sont vraiment à chier...

Ceux de Nirvana et les Sex Pistols étaient pas plus intelligents.

RAF des lyrics, les textes font pas la zik.

C'est pour ça que j'écoute Asyl

Si tu veux des lyrics plus développés de Pagoda :

Citation :

FETUS
I think of you floating in there
With not a shred of thought or care
of where you’re from or will be
Swimming inside the stomach of my baby
Oh little fetus waiting to meet us
with your first swallow of air
Hollow lung sucking up all the world’s despair
I fiend for more, I fiend for the core
Oh lore me back down
and down in that sound
I found it beneath the junk
Just a punk who’s sunk in too deep
I weep for me
For everyone who is and will never be

Hey yeah yeah

I never gave god much consider or thought
I fought that grip that he never caught
But the soul is something I couldn’t help but feel
It’s as real as the rain that wets
Fresh as the fur on our pets
You’re the only God and I believe in portion
And I’ll kill easy in one abortion
Foundation of my stife life, kiss me like a knife
With my dead God now and my dead now wife

And I think of you floating in there
and not a shred of through or care
of where you’re from or will be
Swimming inside the stomach of my baby
Little fetus went to meet us

You’re reborn in my head
Every time I hear my fear
Every tear my sad eye will drip
Every drop that runs past my lip
For every thought of good
that your death now benefits me
How could it benefit me?
Yeah, it benefits me

VOICES
I watch that open flame
Bright light and beautiful orange
I watch that open flame
I watch that open flame
Dear God it’s calling my name
I watch that open flame
It was our job to make the money
And it was he who took all the risks
And we would sit down and wrestle our tummies
Some serotonin to kill the dope sick
But as you may know
lying face first in the snow
I dreamt of days so long ago
Do you remember them?
Where did they go?
Ah aaahhh…
What’d you say?
Oh no don’t reply
It’s just the voices inside
Oh no I can’t decide
They say you’re not here
I’m not
To feel no fear
It’s just my sickness
You’re nothing you’re no one
You don’t exist
It’s the voices inside
Which is mine
I wasn’t born with a silver spoon
That was then but I got one now
This ritual will kill me soon
Hey mom and dad be proud
Wednesday night they sweep the street
With my record they play for keeps
I don’t have any words to say
And we would wonder what took him so long
Half humming this unsung song
Did they find his works in his cold
Dead hand, a sunny day at Riker’s Island
More to say the least and never would it last
It was the nature of the beast
It meant present, no future, no past

DEATH TO BIRTH
From ripe to rotten, too real to live
Should I lie down or stand up
and walk around again?
My eyes finally wide open up
My eyes finally wide open shut

To find, the found, of sound
that hears the touch of my tears
And smell the taste of all we waste
could feed the others
But we smother each other with the nectar
and pucker the sour at bittersweet weather
It blows through our trees, swims through our seas
A flies through the last gasp we left on this earth
It’s a long lonely journey from death to birth
Should I die again? Should I die around
the pounds of matter wheeling through space?
I know I’ll never know until I come face to face
with my own cold dead face, with my own wooden case
Oh, it's a long lonely journey from death to birth

BOTUS
Tony got shot at the Mexican border
Leaving his past far behind his leg
He could run fast
But he knew they would catch him
They’re gonna find me out some day, some day
But Tony tried, and he denied, but he relied
On the wrong person
And he made his own way
But now he lay at Mexico’s end

Little boy Botus selling fruit and tacos
American tourists are so strange, so strange
I’m saving up money for my mother and my hunny
Gonna buy a big house some day, some day
But Botus he was only eight
And he only ate if he had a good day
And he saw Tony bleed
On two pounds of weed and some peyote

But little boy Botus he was young but no dummy
Filling, his tummy, was all he ever knew
He grabbed Tony’s stash, filled his pockets with his cash
He ran like the devil, Hell, I would too
But Botus see he didn’t know
That once you go, man, you never come back
And he ran from the man, with dirt, and sand,
And that devil running down his back

SADARTHA
Sit now quiet, edge of forbidden nerve
Concentrate, fokus
We are battling a mirra’s army
Spirit of the ego, you are as heavy as the air
It’s nice to meet you, I wanna tell you you don’t exist
The earth is our witness, Sadartha
Seen it on my chest, callous on my heart
It grew negligent; know now you’re a vegetable
Sick thing, leper growing in and on me
Cut off, let free, amputate, surgery
Sadartha, nature’s mother, you are my friend

Until we meet again



I DO
I taste you in a cheap hotel room
So this is what it's come to?
I’d love to say you taste a different way
But that hasn’t actually come true
This is so confusing and thoroughly amusing
My heart is bruising, only thoughts of you
And this is so degrading and I'm just waiting
Just keep meditating, holy matrimony, I do
I'm just a child of the night and I didn’t ask to be not right
Let's just say that it's that way
and it's been fun, and it's all done
And that's okay, the world's a dark place
and I'm just a dead face in its womb
We're just the children of the night
And we didn't ask to be not right

SONG #1 (hidden track)
Just droning.
August 24th 2004 (2004)
It's the first morning of our little experiment.

(It's the first morning)
I'll try and write a little bit each day
but I don't know if I can be consistent.
(I'm never consistent)
It's hard for some reason
while I'm making music, to keep a journal.

(It's impossible.)
Sitting now, at this table,
looking out at the industrial mock warehouses,
the lawn. (the green)
They line the perimeter of my vision.
(protruding)

The sky gray, orange, (into the earth)
waking up. (into the clouds)
Got here last night with Ryan.
We have to find Luca, an engineer.
He set up...
he set up these um, (looks pathetic) these sessions.

He was waiting there with his girl, Isa. (they were cool)
He's on a honeymoon.
He took us to the apartment
(been here a long time)
along with is his friends...
(almost a month)

some of his friends who had been in the city
to create a sea diving business.
(almost a month now)
It's nicer than I thought it would be.
(Sir James)
I assumed it would be some warehouses

with cold water which I probably would've rather-ed.
(passed out)
Whenever I'm working it seems
that the closer I am to the ground, the better.
(his hand clutching)
We went and dropped off our stuff, took a shower,

and we head over to the studio.
(last night)
When we get there (I left a note)
we start rehearsing.
Horrible, sloppy, zombie-like (Jamie)
incoherent babble of sleep deprived

walking dead (it was quarter to 4)
headaches, and jet lag. (in the morning)
Took a break in the alley. (can only stand)
People came.
They talked, they laughed.
Some things had no meaning to us.

(moved across)
Smoked some hash (rolled to sir James) had a beer.
Offered to sleep, we received.
(make sure)
I reminded myself. (turned on the clock radio)
Went back to the room. (church choir)

It was better. More coherent.
(went back to the kitchen)
Relaxed.
Still can't sleep.
I've decided that if I'm going to be awake,
I might as well do something productive.

My room was filled with dirty dishes,
bread crumbs, walnut shells, empty cigarette packs,
beer cans, candle wax.
I grabbed a plastic bag,
held on the Virgin Mary's head.
The cast iron one that black eyes

bought for me at a flea market while she was here.
I filled the plastic bag full of garbage
and I laid the head of Mary against my boots.
I emptied all the cigarette butts into a dish
and I started sorting through the ones
that still had tobacco in them.

I pinched all the butts dry dripping the tobacco
into a small espresso cup.
I swept up. I organized my things.
Telephone, masking tape, EQ pedal, four double A batteries,
a dish with three candle's melted into each other,
two razors, a small cassette recorder, three lighters,

ummm... three bottles of spices
I use when we have food to cook.

I went into the other room.
I saw sir James roll over on the couch
muttering something in his sleep.
Fuckin' bugs.

I went into the bathroom, I turned on the water.
Then I went to the kitchen, got the boiling water.
I went back into the bedroom.
I swept up under the rug, under the bed, I made the bed.
I made a small pile.
Put the shoes under the door until later tomorrow.

I made the bed even though I knew
I was going to mess it up.
Then I wrote a note to sir James explaining I couldn't sleep.
Can't sleep. I can't sleep. Make sure I'm up by 8.
I turned on the clock radio.
The only station I could find was church choir music.

I walk back into the kitchen, and pour some boiling water
in a tin cup sitting up upside down under the sink.
A brown paper bag in the sink.
I look inside. Nuts. I remember sir James telling me to...
I found some nuts today. Some of them are still good.
I put one in my mouth. I cracked it open.

I cracked the shell with my thumbnail.
Rotten. Cracked another one. It was good. I ate it.
I walked back into my room. Sat down.
I set the tea down on a stool I had in the corner.
Got a chair.
Sat in the chair. I burned some incense.

The last of it. The last we have.
I lit a cigarette out of the tobacco in the cup.
I lit it. I sipped the tea. I smoked.
I picked up my journal. I wrote this.
I'm gonna try and sleep again. Gonna try and sleep again...
sleep again, sleep, sleep, sleep...
So much for keeping a consistent journal.
It's day 6 or 7. I laid the blueprint of 16 songs after Ryan left.
So in addition to the 10 that we laid down,
we're beginning a very ambitious project.
Luca's worried (faith is undivided)
we're gonna lay down so many with the intent

of dropping some. (of a piece)
I noticed (willing mind)
a change
(rewind to find, go find, find)
less optimistic.
I realize it has a lot to do with me. I feel.

I think that's because I'm afraid.
I'm narcoleptic. It's true.
for helping me, like Luca, Jamie, Ryan, black eyes...
wash my hands. Give them something worthwhile.

(voix de gosses riant : Pagoda !)