Bunny Munro, caixeiro-viajante, casado e com um filho de nove anos. Este é o improvável protagonista de uma história dura e cruel, mas que se entranha na mente do leitor de uma forma indelével. Quando a mulher de Bunny se suicida, e este parte com o seu filho numa viagem pela costa sul de Inglaterra, o seu objectivo é esconder-se na vida boémia e vulgar que sempre levou, a fazer o seu trabalho. À medida que os eventos se sucedem, contudo, o que parece ser apenas mais uma viagem transforma-se numa descida à ruína e à degradação. Este é um livro forte e directo, sem misericórdia. À medida que o autor nos conduz através dos passos de Bunny Munro, não somos poupados às sombras, ao asco, ao horror e à tragédia. E, ao longo das páginas que constituem este livro, Nick Cave mistura, de forma magistral, o sexo, as drogas e a decadência da vida, com um elemento que é, ao mesmo tempo, esperança e mau presságio: um fantasma. Não há floreados neste livro, para tornar a história mais suave. Tudo nesta história é frio e duro e é assim que o autor a apresenta: clara, dura e precisa. E, à medida que o fim se aproxima, também a ligação do leitor ao protagonista vai mudando, desde o nojo inicial até uma compaixão quase inconsciente. Afinal, esta não é só uma história de decadência: é também uma reflexão sobre a redenção. Não será um livro para agradar a todos os leitores. A sua escrita dura e sem subterfúgios, acentuada por um forte cariz sexual e agressivo de alguns momentos, requer uma mente forte e aberta para ser compreendida em pleno. Para quem conseguir apreciar este tipo de livro, contudo, frio e, por vezes, violento, mas devastador na sua realidade, então A Morte de Bunny Munro será um livro inesquecível.

Magnífico.

Nick Cave will be hosting a series of events throughout Europe to coincide with the publication of his new novel The Death of Bunny Munro. Taking place in intimate theatre settings these unique shows will be a mix of readings and live music, with Cave joined by Warren Ellis and Martyn Casey.

Cave will read selected extracts from his new novel accompanied by live music from Ellis and Casey. The trio will also play a selection of songs from Cave’s extensive catalogue and fans will be given a rare opportunity to interact with the shows, as Cave takes questions from the audience. These shows will be nothing like a traditional concert.

“It will be informal, intimate and strange” says Nick Cave.
The score for the novel was composed by Nick Cave & Warren Ellis and features on The Death of Bunny Munro audiobook, which is available now to download from Audible/iTunes and also as a deluxe 7 CD and bonus DVD package. The audiobook was produced and directed by British artists Iain Forsyth & Jane Pollard, who have also created the lighting and visuals for these very special live performances.

October 2009

Sun 11thLondon, UKPalace
Mon 12thDublin, IrelandVicar
Tue 13thEdinburgh, UKPicture HouseSOLD OUT
Wed 14thAmsterdam, The NetherlandsRoyal Theater Carre
Thu 15thAntwerp, Belgium
Sat 17thHamburg, GermanyKampnagel
Mon 19thParis, FranceThéâtre Marigny
Tue 20thStockholm, SwedenChina Theatre
Thu 22ndMilan, ItalyTeatro Dal Verme
Sat 24thBarcelona, SpainCasino Aliança Poble Nou
Sun 25thLondon, UKPalace

Aguarda-me umas horitas no site www.ryanair.com a ver o que encontro de mais vantajoso.

Alinhamento completo do Concerto de Nick Cave no Coliseu do Porto.

22 Abril 2008

Night Of The Lotus Eaters

Today’s Lesson

Red Right Hand

Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!

Tupelo

Moonland

The Ship Song

Midnight Man

I Let Love In

Jesus Of The Moon

Lie Down Here (& Be My Girl)

Deanna

Papa Won’t Leave You, Henry

More News From Nowhere

Primeiro Encore

The Lyre Of Orpheus

Stagger Lee

Segundo Encore

Straight To You

Lovely Creature

We Call Upon The Author

3rd music of the 2nd encore and the last one

What we once thought we had we didn’t, and what we have now will never be that way again
So we call upon the author to explain

(Doop doop doop doop dooop)

Our myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets, we’ve shunned them from the greasy-grind
The poor little things, they look so sad and old as they mount us from behind
I ask them to desist and to refrain
And then we call upon the author to explain

(Doop doop doop doop dooop)

Rosary clutched in his hand, he died with tubes up his nose
And a cabal of angels with finger cymbals chanted his name in code
We shook our fists at the punishing rain
And we call upon the author to explain

(Doop doop doop doop dooop)

He said everything is messed up around here, everything is banal and jejune
There is a planetary conspiracy against the likes of you and me in this idiot constituency of the moon
Well, he knew exactly who to blame
And we call upon the author to explain

(Doop doop doop doop dooop)

Prolix! Prolix! Nothing a pair of scissors can’t fix!
Prolix! Prolix! Nothing a pair of scissors can’t fix!

(Doop doop doop doop dooop)

Well, I go guruing down the street, young people gather round my feet
Ask me things, but I don’r know where to start
They ignite the power-trail ssstraight to my father’s heart
And once again I call upon the author to explain

(Doop doop doop doop dooop …)

We call upon the author to explain

Who is this great burdensome slavering dog-thing that mediocres my every thought?
I feel like a vacuum cleaner, a complete sucker, it’s fucked up and he is a fucker
But what an enormous and encyclopaedic brain
I call upon the author to explain

(Doop doop doop doop dooop …)

Oh rampant discrimination, mass poverty, third world debt, infectious diseease
Global inequality and deepening socio-economic divisions
Well, it does in your brain
And we call upon the author to explain

(Doop doop doop doop dooop …)

Now hang on, my friend Doug is tapping on the window (Hey Doug, how you been?)
Brings me back a book on holocaust poetry complete with pictures
Then tells me to get ready for the rain
And we call upon the author to explain

(Doop doop doop doop dooop …)

I say prolix! Prolix! Something a pair of scissors can fix

Bukowski was a jerk! Berryman was best!
He wrote like wet papier mache, went the Heming-way weirdly on wings and with maximum pain
We call upon the author to explain

(Doop doop doop doop dooop …)

Down in my bolthole I see they’ve published another volume of unreconstructed rubbish
“The waves, the waves were soldiers moving”. Well, thank you, thank you, thank you
And again I call upon the author to explain
Yeah, we call upon the author to explain

Prolix! Prolix! There’s nothing a pair of scissors can’t fix!

2nd music of the 2nd encore

There she stands, this lovely creature
There she stands, there she stands
With her hair full of ribbons
And green gloves on her hands

So I asked this lovely creature
Yes, I asked. Yes I asked
Would she walk with me a while
Through this night so fast

She took my hand, this lovely creature
“Yes”, she said, “Yes”, she said
“Yes, I’ll walk with you a while”
It was a joyful man she led

Over hills, this lovely creature
Over mountains, over ranges
By great pyramids and sphinxs
We met drifters and strangers

Oh the sands, my lovely creature
And the mad, moaning winds
At night the deserts writhed
With diabolical things

Through the night, through the night
The wind lashed and it whipped me
When I got home, my lovely creature
She was no longer with me

Somewhere she lies, this lovely creature
Beneath the slow drifting sands
With her hair full of ribbons
And green gloves on her hands

1st music of the 2nd encore

All the towers of ivory are crumbling
And the swallows have sharpened their beaks
This is the time of our great undoing
This is the time that Ill come running
Straight to you
For I am captured
Straight to you
For I am captured
One more time

The light in our window is fading
The candle gutters on the ledge
Well now sorrow, it comes a-stealing
And Ill cry, girl, but Ill come a-running
Straight to you
For I am captured
Straight to you
For I am captured
Once again

Gone are the days of rainbows
Gone are the nights of swinging from the stars
For the sea will swallow up the mountains
And the sky will throw thunder-bolts and sparks
Straight at you
But Ill come a-running
Straight to you
But Ill come a-running
One more time

Heaven has denied us its kingdom
The saints are drunk howling at the moon
The chariots of angels are colliding
Well, Ill run, babe, but Ill come running
Straight to you
For I am captured
Straight to you
For I am captured
One more time

Last Music of the 1st encore

It was back in ‘32 when times were hard
He had a Colt .45 and a deck of cards
Stagger Lee
He wore rat-drawn shoes and an old stetson hat
Had a ‘28 Ford, had payments on that
Stagger Lee
His woman threw him out in the ice and snow
And told him, “Never ever come back no more”
Stagger Lee
So he walked through the rain and he walked through the mud
Till he came to a place called The Bucket Of Blood
Stagger Lee
He said “Mr Motherfucker, you know who I am”
The barkeeper said, “No, and I don’t give a good goddamn”
To Stagger Lee
He said, “Well bartender, it’s plain to see
I’m that bad motherfucker called Stagger Lee”
Mr. Stagger Lee
Barkeep said, “Yeah, I’ve heard your name down the way
And I kick motherfucking asses like you every day”
Mr Stagger Lee
Well those were the last words that the barkeep said
‘Cause Stag put four holes in his motherfucking head
Just then in came a broad called Nellie Brown
Was known to make more money than any bitch in town
She struts across the bar, hitching up her skirt
Over to Stagger Lee, she starts to flirt
With Stagger Lee
She saw the barkeep, said, “O God, he can’t be dead!”
Stag said, “Well, just count the holes in the motherfucker’s head”
She said, “You ain’t look like you scored in quite a time.
Why not come to my pad? It won’t cost you a dime”
Mr. Stagger Lee
“But there’s something I have to say before you begin
You’ll have to be gone before my man Billy Dilly comes in,
Mr. Stagger Lee”
“I’ll stay here till Billy comes in, till time comes to pass
And furthermore I’ll fuck Billy in his motherfucking ass”
Said Stagger Lee
“I’m a bad motherfucker, don’t you know
And I’ll crawl over fifty good pussies just to get one fat boy’s asshole”
Said Stagger Lee
Just then Billy Dilly rolls in and he says, “You must be
That bad motherfucker called Stagger Lee”
Stagger Lee
“Yeah, I’m Stagger Lee and you better get down on your knees
And suck my dick, because If you don’t you’re gonna be dead”
Said Stagger Lee
Billy dropped down and slobbered on his head
And Stag filled him full of lead
Oh yeah.

Depois da francesinha e de uma noite sublime que irei colocar por aqui algumas imagens e videos, quem sabe se não coloco o concerto todo, fui ao galiza terminar a noite.

Não me acredito que Filipe Menezes tenha tido uma noite tão interessante como a minha, mas por coincidência enquanto eu saia do Galiza ele entrava. Enquanto eu fumava o meu cigarrinho da praxe na saída da cervejaria (maldita Lei de Sócrates) o Menezes falava ao telemóvel antes de entrar. Com quem não sei, mas a confidência que vos quero deixar aqui é que se falava numa segunda volta.

Estará Menezes a montar uma estratégia para derrotar Ferreira Leite?

Vou ler com atenção o regulamento eleitoral do PSD, para assim clarificar esta minha suposição.

Um abraço e segue uma triste imagem do que consegui com o meu telélé.

DIG, LAZARUS, DIG – “Can You Feel The Spirit” – Parte 7

DIG, LAZARUS, DIG – “Blindfold me Sir!” – Parte 6

DIG, LAZARUS, DIG – “Dim The Lights” – Parte 5