All the streets are crammed with things Eager to be held I know what hands are for And I'd like to help myself You ask me the time But I sense something more And I would like to give What I think you're asking for You handsome devil Oh, you handsome devil
Let me get my hands On your mammary glands And let me get your head On the conjugal bed I say, I say, I say
I crack the whip And you skip But you deserve it You deserve it, deserve it, deserve it
A boy in the bush Is worth two in the hand I think I can help you get through your exams Oh, you handsome devil
Oh, let me get my hands On your mammary glands And let me get your head On the conjugal bed I say, I say, I say
I crack the whip And you skip But you deserve it You deserve it, deserve it, deserve it
And when we're in your scholarly room Who will swallow whom ? When we're in your scholarly room Who will swallow whom ? You handsome devil
Oh, let me get my hands On your mammary glands And let me get your head On the conjugal bed I say, I say, I say
There's more to life than books, you know But not much more Oh, there's more to life than books, you know But not much more, not much more Oh, you handsome devil Oh, you handsome devil Ow !
The other day, my friends Nacho, Maria and Pablo came to my place to record me playing at my flatmate´s my patio. We were all under a terrible hangover due to some serious partying (so common during summertime in this corner of the world) from the night before but we somehow managed to make it. Among plants, many of them tortured by the heatwave, I played some new songs. The is the first video of the series. The song is called Motorbike and it is about, well, being on a motorbike with someone you love...or at least fancy, cruising on the avenues. Enjoy!
These are some Ilustrations (and some chords indication) I did for "Autoplacer " festival that takes place in Madrid this Thursday first of July at Centro de Arte Dos de Mayo in Móstoles. A festival about do-it-your self ethics basically, where there will be concerts and where they will be giving out a fanzine of illustrations and a cd of inedit songs. Among the songs will be "Before it´s over" by Evripidis and his Tragedies, a song about, well... self sufficiency basically ;) ! Check out the lyrics above and you will see why...
Here is the drawing I made for a new project, curated by our friend Fran (of Ilustración fanzine), on the topic of the posible housing development on Cala Reona.
Cala Reona is an idylic bay in the Murcia province in Spain. It is the last virgin beach that remains between Cavo de Palos and the Natural Park of Calblanque, it is famous for it´s crystal clear water and is a shelter for various species of typically mediteranean plants and wildlife that is protected by law.
Lately there has been a reconsideration of plans to begin construction there, plans that were rejected ´80s and they had been revisited lately. Constructing on Cala Reona would destroy a site of extraordinary natural beauty, would threaten the existence of various plants and animals and would have negative effects on the nearby Natural Park of Calblanque.
you can read some more (in Spanish I´m afraid) here:
In the link below you can see more work made by a variety of artists, including Jeleton, Chuso Ordi, Antonio Juan Sánchez, Eulita, Pepo Moreno, Moco de Pavo, Delphi Deleas, Lucía Torres González, Jordirosa, José Antonio Delgado, Radioboy and me, Roque Lopez, Aitor Vieco, Delia Marín, Dofi and more...
Today it was an extremely rainy day. It didn´t stop pouring since early in the morning. After having watched the sky weeping for almost 24 hours and after having listened a zillion times "The tracks of my tears" by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, I made the first The Crying Game playlist with some of my favorite songs about sobbing and you can download it here:
Who said that pop music is happy? The other day, out of pure curiosity I started searching songs with titles where the act of crying appears somehow and I was hardly surprised by the results.
Pop music is truely a weeping man´s world, full of songs about bitter tears and tears of a clown, 96 tears and rosy star tears from heaven, tears for affairs and tears in one´s cup, tears that dry on their own and tears that run rings around the eyes, tears for the man on the moon and black tears, rain and tears and nothing but tears, golden teardrops and and two types of teardrops, crying games and crying times, crying in the chapel and crying one self to sleep, crying in the rain and crying a river, crying to heaven and crying the night away, crying for attention and crying one´s heart, crying for a shadow and crying all the way to the pawnshop, dancing with tears in one´s eyes and doves (& angels) that cry.
Obviously, people have always chosen to sing about emotional outbursts that involve heavy lacrimating. Love may be still pop music´s favourite subject but crying, being one of the side effecs, also rides high in popularity.
When stress levels grow too much, crying is the only way to let off some steam and lighten up. It has been said that through tears and mucosal secretion-remember all those snotty kleenex you leave all around in each outbreak- the body gets rid of a great amounts of hormones accosiated with stress.
Thus we all feel better after a good weeping session . I would also point out that crying, being a violent outburst, makes us feel human like beings, alive and kicking. No wonder that in a stressfull and quite mechanical and antiseptic world there are so many people who go to watch sad movies in order to be able to let go in the darkness of a cinema, people who listen on repeat THAT song that reminds them of THAT moment and can never fail pull their trigger or even people who go to funerals often, even to funerals of peope they do not even know to cry their hearts out. Some might say that those people do not have real problems and need to invent their little tragedies-and maybe this is quite true.
Some might say that all the above are clearly acts of masochism . I would point out that maybe they are acts of hedonism because at the end of the day crying, just like laughter, feels good. And sounds good in songs. And looks good-have you ever looked yourself in the mirror after a good session of sobbing? The eyes have a distinct shine, their colour is brighter, the face looks calm, serene, peaceful. I could fall in love easily with somone who has just burst into tears in front of me. In fact I have.
Furthermore, apart from being a reaction to pain and stress, crying is a sign of helpnessness, a non-verbal and often unconscious cry for help towads the people around us. We are taught to be self sufficient since our youngest days but even the bravest, most proud person can sometimes feel like a scared ugly ducklin who needs to hide below the wings of mother goose and cry itself to sleep.
On the other hand, it is also said that boys don´t cry and big girls neither .The truth is that for a lot of people the pleasure of crying is denied. A friend of mine was telling me the other day that he is totally unable to cry. A question of culture or character? Is crying a guilty pleasure maybe? In the future are there going to be “sobbing shops” like “sex shops” where we will sneak with a slight embarassed expression on our faces just to pay to get into a cabin where they project sad movies and they play tearjerkers?
Could it be that crying is going to be like an illegal drug? Are there going to be crying dens like the opium dens, where people will gather secretly to tell heartbreaking stories and put on the saddest ballads by Patsi Cline or Irma Tomas?
Having said all that, I have to admit I haven´t shed too many tears lately. Maybe at some french movie, one of those where everything is romantic and doomed at the same moment and love can never win. Or maybe listening to some bittersweet song from some indie spanish pop band reminding me of summers long gone. Some could say that the luxury of talking about crying in only for those who don´t really have to cry, for those western-world middle class kids without serious problems, for those who have not been touched by real tragedies…and they are probably true.
But I just love pop music and I am old enough to say that I know all there is to know about the crying game, I had my share of the crying game, first there are kisses, then there are sighs…la la la. Just remember what the Caravelles sang back in 1963…You don´t have to be a baby to cry.
This Friday 16 of April, at 21.00, it is the opening of my first personal exposition ever at SIX D.O.G.S in Athens. The exposition takes its name form that old song from Bob B Soxx and the Blue Jeans, a song that I have hummed so many times. I love the final part where, in between handclaps and crazy doo-wop singing, Darlene love moans "oh tell me why, why, why?". I believe it is an iconic moment in pop music´s history and I find it heartbreaking because, although expressed in a rather naive teenage way, it contains the eternal and unresolved mistery: Why do we always hurt the ones we love?
I will show some drawings inspired by this song and by love, lust and most of all loss. I will also play a concert The Night of the Living Covers with some of my Greek friends and afterward I am going to dj some music in order to lighten up the mood a little bit and bring those dancing shoes on the spot light. So, whoever feels like coming, it is free and it is Friday night.
Last Saturday, the third of April, me and some of my friends prepared a concert called The Night of the Living Covers. Instead of going to the church to celebrate the Resurrection (it was Easter Saturday you see and although I am not religious at all I felt something tinging inside me, blame it to my Greek upbringing), we gathered at the bar of Le Meridien, a hotel at the Ramblas in Barcelona, to resurrect some of our favourite songs, songs that changed our lives and played their tiny but significant part in contributing in who we are right now. These are songs decidated to lovers from the past who are no longer by our side, dreamboats, unrequited love that made us wet a pillow or two, manipulative assholes who played with our nerves, secret affairs, painful separations, walks by the sea, magic encounters, lust, loss, teenage dreams that came or never came true, our friends, our mothers. These are songs that have haunted us, some of them since we were spotty adolescents that lived glued to the radio or to their cassette collection. Other songs may have been added to our "Haunt" list only recently, during those ipod days, but the spell they cast is not to be denied... One thing is for sure: Ghosts do exist and they can take the form of glorious melodies. And they can haunt you again, and again and bring back memories.
The concert´s second name was Duets, thus, in every song, one of my friends would come close to the Grand Piano, pick the mick and sing with me one tune at a time. Then he or she would go back to the audience and another one would take the microphone.
The songs we played are the following but since some memories of that night got blown away by loads of delicious strawberry -something cocktails, they are in random order! He didn´t-The 6ths This old heart of mine-The Isley Brothers Johnny remember be-John Leyton Underwear-Pulp (with Elsa de Alfonso)
Tender is the night-The Triffids Bitter tears-The Magnetic Fields There must be and Angel-Eurythmics (with Adrian de Alfonso)
What have I done to deserve this?-Pet Shop Boys (with Luis Verges)
Young and in love-The Marvelettes I´d much rather be with the boys-The Rolling Stones I got you babe-Sonny & Cher (with Ene Anoux)
Something´s got a hold of my heart-Gene Pitney The sun ain´t gonna shine anymore-The Walker Brothers Manoula mou-Manos Xantzidakis (with Jordi Maranges)
The false contender-Camera Obscura Interlude-Timi Yuro Hand in glove-The Smiths Bad romance-Lady GaGa I´ll be your mirror-The Velvet Underground & Nico (with Laura Antolin)
When the gig end I played some records and as soon as I discovered that the mic was still on we thrust into a spontaenous drunk doo wop-indie pop-karaoke untill the hotel manager came furious and ordered us to stop the music. I did as I was told but soon me and some other friends started playing the piano and singing and making quite a noise. Finally the manager came back and kicked us out of the five-star hotel. A fun night definitely. Thanks to everyone who came by and of course many thanks to all those who sang with me. Till next time!
Here are a few photos by El chico de la leche. More photos by Daniel Riera will be uploaded soon!
