miércoles, 24 de junio de 2009
Give Paris one more chance
This Thursday I am playing alone at Pop In in Paris. It is a pitty that no-one from the band is here , not even Marisol who had been with me last year...but...it is sunny outside (the other time was gray November) plus there are sales (If only I had the money!) and my friends Jeleton are here.
I have always been in love with Paris. Since I was a kid I used to read some books my mom had, full of color pictures of the City of Light. I would study the map thoroughly and I would memorise all the famous monuments and their location. I still remember some things; don´t ask me where this boutique or that cool hangout is but I can tell you about a dozen of churches, palaces and parks. All those things I would imagine as a kid: a young Luis XIV looking out of the windows of Louvre, the biggest palace in the world, being discusted of the dirty, infected city and planning to move out to Versailles. Elegant perfumed aristocrats wearing powdered wigs and meeting at Comedie Francaise, seducing and plotting like in "Liaisons Dangereuses" . The mob of Parisians taking in the fearfull Bastille prison. The bohemian absinth-drinking Paris of Baudelaire , Rimbaud and Toulouse Lautrec (and not the one we saw at that rather naff movie called Moulin Rouge). The Catacombs below the Opera, where the Phantom would reign. Paris in the 20´s, Paris in the 30´s, 40´s, 50´s, 60´s, jazz, chanson, Edith Piaf and Gilbert Bécaud, the existentialists, rive gauche, subterannean bars, Coco Chanel, YSL, Dior, sidewalk cafes, Bonjour tristesse, Au bout de suffle, Bande a part, Juliette Greco, Truffaut, black turtle necks, Gainsbourg, B.B, Francoise Hardy, France Gall and the story goes on and on...
Writing this, it is getting dark. I am going out soon and the Paris lights will engulf me and injectme some of their magic...ok, enough with all this dreamy shit, I guess I will just go down the corner, at Pop In, to hang out with Denis and Alex and drink.
So I guess I´ll give Paris one more chance, as Jonathan Richman had once sung...The home of Piaf and Chevalier must have done something right to get passion this way...