Fikk idéen til denne tråden etter å ha lyttet til Life Down Here In Hell med Paal Flaata.
Men det finnes sikkert andre...
Men det finnes sikkert andre...
Din dystreste låt?
- Trådstarter Steinar_Lund
- Startdato
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- 02.01.2005
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'failure' med The Swans er en av mange dystre låter i min platesamling.er å høre på 'white light of the mouth of infinity'.
mvh. s,
mvh. s,
- Ble medlem
- 02.01.2005
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'isolation' & 'decades' fra Joy Division's 'closer'.
mvh. s,
mvh. s,
- Ble medlem
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mye dystert innen metal'en f.eks. Gehenna's 'vinterriket' fra plata 'seen through to veils of darkness'.
mvh. s,
mvh. s,
Days Of The Lords med Joy Division fra Unknown Pleasures,Black Sabbath fra samme album og gruppe 8) Tomhet med Burzum..
mvh Filip
mvh Filip
Bonnnie 'Prince' Billy (Will Oldham) har jo noen dystre låter ' I see a dakness', 'Today I was an evil one', 'Death to everyone', 'Another day full of dread'.
Men den som lager de mest "deprimerende" låtene er, for min del, Willy Vlautin (Richmond Fontaine). Skiva 'The Fitzgarald' er direkte slitsom. Den kryper inn under huden på deg og deg trist. Hør bare 'Welhorn Yards'
P.S. vet det var en låt du var ute etter, men det er så jævlig vanskelig å skulle rangere musikk. Låter kan kan ha forskjellig virkning alt etter stemningen man er i når man hører den.
Men den som lager de mest "deprimerende" låtene er, for min del, Willy Vlautin (Richmond Fontaine). Skiva 'The Fitzgarald' er direkte slitsom. Den kryper inn under huden på deg og deg trist. Hør bare 'Welhorn Yards'
P.S. vet det var en låt du var ute etter, men det er så jævlig vanskelig å skulle rangere musikk. Låter kan kan ha forskjellig virkning alt etter stemningen man er i når man hører den.
- Ble medlem
- 02.01.2005
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man kommer heller ikke utenom Tindersticks : låta 'my sister' er ikke så lystig.
mvh. s,
mvh. s,
hørte flaata da jeg skrev noen minneord til mitt søskenbarn i fjor vinter, og i år, da jeg skrev noen til min mor.
Jeg griner godt på life down here in hell under slike omstendigheter kan man si.
Ellers er kyssing av per n bergersen riiimelig dyster. For ikke å snakke om verdikrise, av samme mann.
Verdiløse menn nikker jeg også til, man vil ikke, men kjenner seg igjen der, på en måte.
Jokke var en stor mann!
Jeg griner godt på life down here in hell under slike omstendigheter kan man si.
Ellers er kyssing av per n bergersen riiimelig dyster. For ikke å snakke om verdikrise, av samme mann.
Verdiløse menn nikker jeg også til, man vil ikke, men kjenner seg igjen der, på en måte.
Jokke var en stor mann!
P
Parelius
Gjest
QUICKSILVER DAYDREAMS OF MARIA
Townes Van Zandt - 1968
Well, the diamond fades quickly when matched to the face of Maria
All the harps they sound empty when she lifts her lips to the sky
the brown of her skin makes her hair seem a soft golden rainfall
that spills from the mountains to the bottomless depths of her eyes
Well, she stands all around me her hands slowly sifting the sunshine
all the laughter that linger down deep 'neath her smilin' is free
Well, it spins and it twirls like a hummingbird lost in the morning
and caresses the south wind and silently sails to the sea
Ah, the sculpter stands stricken and the artist he throws away his brushes
when her image comes dancin' the sun she turns sullen with shame
And the birds they go silent the wind stops his sad mournful singing
when the trees of the forest start gently to whisper'in her name
So as softly she wanders I'll desperately follow her footsteps
and I'll chase after shadows that offer a trace of her sight
Ah, they promise eternally that she lays hidden within them
but I find they've decieved me and sadly I bid them goodbye
So the serpent slides slowly away with these moments of laughter
and the the old washy woman has finish her cleanin' and gone
but the bamboo hang heavy in the bondage of quicksilver daydreams
and a lonely child longingly looks for a place to belong
Townes Van Zandt - 1968
Well, the diamond fades quickly when matched to the face of Maria
All the harps they sound empty when she lifts her lips to the sky
the brown of her skin makes her hair seem a soft golden rainfall
that spills from the mountains to the bottomless depths of her eyes
Well, she stands all around me her hands slowly sifting the sunshine
all the laughter that linger down deep 'neath her smilin' is free
Well, it spins and it twirls like a hummingbird lost in the morning
and caresses the south wind and silently sails to the sea
Ah, the sculpter stands stricken and the artist he throws away his brushes
when her image comes dancin' the sun she turns sullen with shame
And the birds they go silent the wind stops his sad mournful singing
when the trees of the forest start gently to whisper'in her name
So as softly she wanders I'll desperately follow her footsteps
and I'll chase after shadows that offer a trace of her sight
Ah, they promise eternally that she lays hidden within them
but I find they've decieved me and sadly I bid them goodbye
So the serpent slides slowly away with these moments of laughter
and the the old washy woman has finish her cleanin' and gone
but the bamboo hang heavy in the bondage of quicksilver daydreams
and a lonely child longingly looks for a place to belong
Z
Zomby_Woof
Gjest
Caroline says pt I/II (Lou Reed). Hele Berlin er forresten omtrent like dyster.
Skikkelig skillingsvise med Terry Jacks
Seasons In The Sun
Goodbye to you, my trusted friend.
We've known each other since we're nine or ten.
Together we climbed hills or trees.
Learned of love and ABC's,
skinned our hearts and skinned our knees.
Goodbye my friend, it's hard to die,
when all the birds are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
Pretty girls are everywhere.
When you see them I'll be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the hills that we climbed
were just seasons out of time.
Goodbye, Papa, please pray for me,
I was the black sheep of the family.
You tried to teach me right from wrong.
Too much wine and too much song,
wonder how I get along.
Goodbye, Papa, it's hard to die
when all the birds are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
Little children everywhere.
When you see them I'll be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the wine and the song,
like the seasons, all have gone.
Goodbye, Michelle, my little one.
You gave me love and helped me find the sun.
And every time that I was down
you would always come around
and get my feet back on the ground.
Goodbye, Michelle, it's hard to die
when all the bird are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
With the flowers ev'rywhere.
I whish that we could both be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the stars we could reach
were just starfishs on the beach
Seasons In The Sun
Goodbye to you, my trusted friend.
We've known each other since we're nine or ten.
Together we climbed hills or trees.
Learned of love and ABC's,
skinned our hearts and skinned our knees.
Goodbye my friend, it's hard to die,
when all the birds are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
Pretty girls are everywhere.
When you see them I'll be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the hills that we climbed
were just seasons out of time.
Goodbye, Papa, please pray for me,
I was the black sheep of the family.
You tried to teach me right from wrong.
Too much wine and too much song,
wonder how I get along.
Goodbye, Papa, it's hard to die
when all the birds are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
Little children everywhere.
When you see them I'll be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the wine and the song,
like the seasons, all have gone.
Goodbye, Michelle, my little one.
You gave me love and helped me find the sun.
And every time that I was down
you would always come around
and get my feet back on the ground.
Goodbye, Michelle, it's hard to die
when all the bird are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
With the flowers ev'rywhere.
I whish that we could both be there.
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the stars we could reach
were just starfishs on the beach
Drar du den får vel jeg dra denne, som min mormor pleide synde for oss:
I en sal på hospitalet,
hvor de hvide senge står,
lå en lille brystsvag pige,
syg og bleg med gyldent hår,
lå en lille brystsvag pige,
syg og bleg med gyldent hår.
Alles hjerter vandt den lille,
som hun lå der mild og god,
bar sin smerte uden klage
med et barnligt heltemod,
bar sin smerte uden klage
med et barnligt heltemod.
Og hun spørger da sin læge,
som ved hendes leje stod:
Må jeg komme hjem til påske,
skal jeg være rigtig god,
må jeg komme hjem til påske,
skal jeg være rigtig god.
Lægen svarede den lille:
Nej, mit barn, det knapt jeg tror,
men til pinse kan det hænde,
du kan komme hjem til mor,
men til pinse kan det hænde,
du kan komme hjem til mor.
Pinsen kom med grønne skove,
blomsterklædt står mark og eng,
men den lille syge pige
fængsles stadig til sin seng,
men den lille syge pige
fængsles stadig til sin seng.
Og hun spørger atter lægen,
som ved hendes leje står:
Må jeg komme op til høsten,
må jeg komme hjem til mor?
Må jeg komme op til høsten,
må jeg komme hjem til mor?
Lægen svarer ej den lille,
klapper hendes gyldne hår,
med en tåre i sit øje
vender han sig om og går,
med en tåre i sit øje
vender han sig om og går.
Høsten kom og marken bugned
under kornets gyldne lag,
men den lille syge pige
hun blir stadig mere svag,
men den lille syge pige
hun blir stadig mere svag.
Og til sidst med fred i følge
julens glade højtid kom,
men en lille røst var stille,
og en lille seng stod tom,
men en lille røst var stille,
og en lille seng stod tom.
I sin grav nu trygt hun hviler
under snebelagte skrud,
efter denne lange vinter
er hun gået hjem til Gud,
efter denne lange vinter
er hun gået hjem til Gud.
Nu i himlens lyse sale
vandrer hun blandt engle små,
men i jordens skyggedale
mange lidende må gå,
men i jordens skyggedale
mange lidende må gå.
Varige skader på sjelen fikk vi.
I en sal på hospitalet,
hvor de hvide senge står,
lå en lille brystsvag pige,
syg og bleg med gyldent hår,
lå en lille brystsvag pige,
syg og bleg med gyldent hår.
Alles hjerter vandt den lille,
som hun lå der mild og god,
bar sin smerte uden klage
med et barnligt heltemod,
bar sin smerte uden klage
med et barnligt heltemod.
Og hun spørger da sin læge,
som ved hendes leje stod:
Må jeg komme hjem til påske,
skal jeg være rigtig god,
må jeg komme hjem til påske,
skal jeg være rigtig god.
Lægen svarede den lille:
Nej, mit barn, det knapt jeg tror,
men til pinse kan det hænde,
du kan komme hjem til mor,
men til pinse kan det hænde,
du kan komme hjem til mor.
Pinsen kom med grønne skove,
blomsterklædt står mark og eng,
men den lille syge pige
fængsles stadig til sin seng,
men den lille syge pige
fængsles stadig til sin seng.
Og hun spørger atter lægen,
som ved hendes leje står:
Må jeg komme op til høsten,
må jeg komme hjem til mor?
Må jeg komme op til høsten,
må jeg komme hjem til mor?
Lægen svarer ej den lille,
klapper hendes gyldne hår,
med en tåre i sit øje
vender han sig om og går,
med en tåre i sit øje
vender han sig om og går.
Høsten kom og marken bugned
under kornets gyldne lag,
men den lille syge pige
hun blir stadig mere svag,
men den lille syge pige
hun blir stadig mere svag.
Og til sidst med fred i følge
julens glade højtid kom,
men en lille røst var stille,
og en lille seng stod tom,
men en lille røst var stille,
og en lille seng stod tom.
I sin grav nu trygt hun hviler
under snebelagte skrud,
efter denne lange vinter
er hun gået hjem til Gud,
efter denne lange vinter
er hun gået hjem til Gud.
Nu i himlens lyse sale
vandrer hun blandt engle små,
men i jordens skyggedale
mange lidende må gå,
men i jordens skyggedale
mange lidende må gå.
Varige skader på sjelen fikk vi.
- Ble medlem
- 16.02.2008
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"Black Sabbath" fra albumet med samme navn, muligens også "The Ripper" med Judas Priest fra "Unleashed in the East" er to som kommer meg i minne her.
- Ble medlem
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Har vel ingen bestemt låt, men Alice in chains tar meg på en ganske dyster tur en gang iblandt. Fasinerende musikk med nerve og sjel. Får en til å tenke på hvor godt en egentlig har det.
Layne Stanley, sanger, døde i 2002 bare 34 år gammel pga langtids misbruk. R.I.P
Bandet er aldri erklært oppløst og ny plate er planlagt sluppet 29. september i år. Det er 14 år siden siste studio album. Ny sanger er William DuVall
Skal bli spennende å høre om de klare å matche sine gamle bragder.
Mvh
RBN
Layne Stanley, sanger, døde i 2002 bare 34 år gammel pga langtids misbruk. R.I.P
Bandet er aldri erklært oppløst og ny plate er planlagt sluppet 29. september i år. Det er 14 år siden siste studio album. Ny sanger er William DuVall
Skal bli spennende å høre om de klare å matche sine gamle bragder.
Mvh
RBN
The Eternal av Joy Division, fra Closer, kommer høyt opp på en slik liste. The Funeral Party med Cure (fra Faith) er heller ikke langt unna.
M
musicus
Gjest
Nick Cave "People aint no good" fra "the boatsman´s call" skiva.
Fasinerende dystert...
mvh
Fasinerende dystert...
mvh
Kjell Höglund: Man vänjer sig! dystert og ångest laddat som bare den
MAN VÄNJER SIG
Text och musik: Kjell Höglund
Man vaknar varje morgon med en hemskhet i sitt bröst
kan inte äta, dricker kaffe, åker buss till jobbet
där är långa, trista timmar, meningslösa klyschor
ingen öppnar sig, man stirrar bara tomt
och pratar strunt och skrattar till
men man vänjer sig
man vänjer sig
Och jobbet som man gör, det har man ingenting för
det är nån annan som drar nytta av det
ingen aning vem
man bara flyttar sina papper, drar i sina spakar
hämtar sina pengar
det känns dumt och idiotiskt
men man vänjer sig
man vänjer sig
När man kommer hem på kvällen
har man glömt att stänga fönstret
det är sot och smuts på fönsterkarmen, avgaser i rummet
man har glömt att köpa mat
fast inte har man just nån matlust, pressar i sig några mackor
man vänjer sig
man får vänja sig
Man tar magnecyl mot huvudvärken, dåsar framför tv:n
grannen går på toaletten och det brusar i rören
man är trött och går och lägger sig
och grannen grälar med sin fru, trafiken är oändlig
det är omöjligt att sova
men man vänjer sig
man måste vänja sig
Lakanen snor sig och blir fuktiga av svett
och nattens timmar är som gummiband
i väntan på glömskans sömn
så ringer väckarklockan
herrejävlar, denna pina, man orkar inte tvätta sig
dricker kallnat kaffe från igår
och ute är det kallt och mörkt och ruggigt och dimma
men man vänjer sig
man vänjer sig
Så blir det fredag alla fall, man super lite håglöst
och på lördan går man ut i parken, unnar sig en pizza
och på kvällen kommer gråten
det är skönt att våga bli förtvivlad
känna sig verklig
man köper lite porr i en tidningsautomat
och går hem och onanerar
det är outsägligt torftigt
men man vänjer sig
man får lov att vänja sig
MAN VÄNJER SIG
Text och musik: Kjell Höglund
Man vaknar varje morgon med en hemskhet i sitt bröst
kan inte äta, dricker kaffe, åker buss till jobbet
där är långa, trista timmar, meningslösa klyschor
ingen öppnar sig, man stirrar bara tomt
och pratar strunt och skrattar till
men man vänjer sig
man vänjer sig
Och jobbet som man gör, det har man ingenting för
det är nån annan som drar nytta av det
ingen aning vem
man bara flyttar sina papper, drar i sina spakar
hämtar sina pengar
det känns dumt och idiotiskt
men man vänjer sig
man vänjer sig
När man kommer hem på kvällen
har man glömt att stänga fönstret
det är sot och smuts på fönsterkarmen, avgaser i rummet
man har glömt att köpa mat
fast inte har man just nån matlust, pressar i sig några mackor
man vänjer sig
man får vänja sig
Man tar magnecyl mot huvudvärken, dåsar framför tv:n
grannen går på toaletten och det brusar i rören
man är trött och går och lägger sig
och grannen grälar med sin fru, trafiken är oändlig
det är omöjligt att sova
men man vänjer sig
man måste vänja sig
Lakanen snor sig och blir fuktiga av svett
och nattens timmar är som gummiband
i väntan på glömskans sömn
så ringer väckarklockan
herrejävlar, denna pina, man orkar inte tvätta sig
dricker kallnat kaffe från igår
och ute är det kallt och mörkt och ruggigt och dimma
men man vänjer sig
man vänjer sig
Så blir det fredag alla fall, man super lite håglöst
och på lördan går man ut i parken, unnar sig en pizza
och på kvällen kommer gråten
det är skönt att våga bli förtvivlad
känna sig verklig
man köper lite porr i en tidningsautomat
och går hem och onanerar
det är outsägligt torftigt
men man vänjer sig
man får lov att vänja sig
En lystig låt på en grå søndag.
Violent Femmes - Country Death Song
I had me a wife, I had me some daughters.
I tried so hard, I never knew still waters.
Nothing to eat and nothing to drink.
Nothing for a man to do but sit around and think.
Nothing for a man to do but sit around and think.
Well, Im a thinkin and thinkin, till theres nothin I aint thunk.
Breathing in the stink, till finally I stunk.
It was at that time, I swear I lost my mind.
I started making plans to kill my own kind.
I started making plans to kill my own kind.
Come little daughter, I said to the youngest one,
Put your coat on, well have some fun.
Well go out to mountains, the one to explore.
Her face then lit up, I was standing by the door.
Her face then lit up, I was standing by the door.
Come little daughter, I will carry the lanterns.
Well go out tonight, well go to the caverns.
Well go out tonight, well go to the caves.
Kiss your mother goodnight and remember that God saves.
Kiss your mother goodnight and remember that God saves.
A led her to a hole, a deep black well.
I said make a wish, make sure and not tell and
Close youre eyes dear, and count to seven.
You know your papa loves you, good children go to heaven.
You know your papa loves you, good children go to heaven.
I gave her a push, I gave her a shove.
I pushed with all my might, I pushed with all my love.
I through my child into a bottomless pit.
She was screaming as she fell, but I never heard her hit.
She was screaming as she fell, but I never heard her hit.
Gather round boys to this tale that I tell.
You wanna know how to take a short trip to hell?
Its guarenteed to get your own place in hell.
Just take your lovely daughter and push her in the well.
Take your lovely daughter and throw her in the well.
Dont speak to me of lovers, with a broken heart.
You wanna know what can really tear you apart?
Im going out to the barn, will I never stop in pain?
Im going out to the barn, to hang myself in shame.
Violent Femmes - Country Death Song
I had me a wife, I had me some daughters.
I tried so hard, I never knew still waters.
Nothing to eat and nothing to drink.
Nothing for a man to do but sit around and think.
Nothing for a man to do but sit around and think.
Well, Im a thinkin and thinkin, till theres nothin I aint thunk.
Breathing in the stink, till finally I stunk.
It was at that time, I swear I lost my mind.
I started making plans to kill my own kind.
I started making plans to kill my own kind.
Come little daughter, I said to the youngest one,
Put your coat on, well have some fun.
Well go out to mountains, the one to explore.
Her face then lit up, I was standing by the door.
Her face then lit up, I was standing by the door.
Come little daughter, I will carry the lanterns.
Well go out tonight, well go to the caverns.
Well go out tonight, well go to the caves.
Kiss your mother goodnight and remember that God saves.
Kiss your mother goodnight and remember that God saves.
A led her to a hole, a deep black well.
I said make a wish, make sure and not tell and
Close youre eyes dear, and count to seven.
You know your papa loves you, good children go to heaven.
You know your papa loves you, good children go to heaven.
I gave her a push, I gave her a shove.
I pushed with all my might, I pushed with all my love.
I through my child into a bottomless pit.
She was screaming as she fell, but I never heard her hit.
She was screaming as she fell, but I never heard her hit.
Gather round boys to this tale that I tell.
You wanna know how to take a short trip to hell?
Its guarenteed to get your own place in hell.
Just take your lovely daughter and push her in the well.
Take your lovely daughter and throw her in the well.
Dont speak to me of lovers, with a broken heart.
You wanna know what can really tear you apart?
Im going out to the barn, will I never stop in pain?
Im going out to the barn, to hang myself in shame.
Strange Fruit
(Abel Meeropol)
Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.
Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
(Abel Meeropol)
Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.
Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
K
krille_krokodille
Gjest
Har aldri helt klart å se denne som en spesiellt lystig låt.
- Ble medlem
- 29.01.2005
- Innlegg
- 2.828
- Antall liker
- 10
"One Hundred Years"
It doesn't matter if we all die
Ambition in the back of a black car
In a high building there is so much to do
Going home time
A story on the radio
Something small falls out of your mouth
And we laugh
A prayer for something better
A prayer
For something better
Please love me
Meet my mother
But the fear takes hold
Creeping up the stairs in the dark
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot
Fighting for freedom on television
Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs
Have we got everything?
She struggles to get away . . .
The pain
And the creeping feeling
A little black haired girl
Waiting for Saturday
The death of her father pushing her
Pushing her white face into the mirror
Aching inside me
And turn me round
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Caressing an old man
And painting a lifeless face
Just a piece of new meat in a clean room
The soldiers close in under a yellow moon
All shadows and deliverance
Under a black flag
A hundred years of blood
Crimson
The ribbon tightens round my throat
I open my mouth
And my head bursts open
A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water
Thrashing in the water
Over and over
We die one after the other
Over and over
We die one after the other
One after the other
One after the other
One after the other
One after the other
It feels like a hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
One hundred years
- Ble medlem
- 02.01.2005
- Innlegg
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'pornography' er utvilsomt den beste Cure-skiva.den eneste som fortsatt blir spillt hos meg.har rubbel og bit av gruppa.'the top' rangeres som nr.2.
mvh. s,
mvh. s,
Det må jo være Per Bergersen. Ha må være den mest depressive musikeren vi har hatt i Norge. Jeg har denne platen på vinyl. En tøff plate. Et must!
http://alge.anart.no/perbergersen/
http://alge.anart.no/perbergersen/
Van der Graaf Generator har vel een del dystre tekster. Killer fra H to He, Who am the only one er i hvert fall ikke særlig lystelig.
So you live in the bottom of the sea,
and you kill all that come near you ....
but you are very lonely, because all the other fish
fear you .....
And you crave companionship and someone to call your own;
because for the whole of your life you've been living alone.
On a black day in black month
at the black bottom of the sea,
Your mother gave birth to you and died
immediately ....
'Cos you can't have two killers living in the same pad
and when your mother knew that her time had come
she was really rather glad.
Death in the sea, death in the sea,
somebody please come and help me, come and help me
Fishes can't fly, fishes can't fly,
Fishes can't and neither can I, neither can I ....
Now I'm really rather like you,
for I've killed all the love I ever had
by not doing all I ought to and by leaving my mind coming
bad.
And I too am a killer, for emotion runs as deep as flesh
and I too am so lonely, and I wish that I could forget
We need love,
We need love,
We need love ..........
So you live in the bottom of the sea,
and you kill all that come near you ....
but you are very lonely, because all the other fish
fear you .....
And you crave companionship and someone to call your own;
because for the whole of your life you've been living alone.
On a black day in black month
at the black bottom of the sea,
Your mother gave birth to you and died
immediately ....
'Cos you can't have two killers living in the same pad
and when your mother knew that her time had come
she was really rather glad.
Death in the sea, death in the sea,
somebody please come and help me, come and help me
Fishes can't fly, fishes can't fly,
Fishes can't and neither can I, neither can I ....
Now I'm really rather like you,
for I've killed all the love I ever had
by not doing all I ought to and by leaving my mind coming
bad.
And I too am a killer, for emotion runs as deep as flesh
and I too am so lonely, and I wish that I could forget
We need love,
We need love,
We need love ..........
V
vredensgnag
Gjest
Siegfrieds død er trist/dyster, men på en så triumferende måte at jeg får frysninger mer enn jeg blir nedstemt ... ;D
Når Valse triste spilles godt, så gråter jeg, uten unntak. Men det er altså trist, ikke nødvendigvis dystert. Men det avhenger av hvordan det spilles.
Stokowski gjør det for hurtig her, så det blir oppmuntrende trist!:
Men så kommer Janssons, og han styrer fint mellom trist og dystert.
Men skal det være riktig trist, og dystert, så må det spilles og vises slik. Ormandy:
Og dette er skikkelig dystert - her synger et lik:
Når Valse triste spilles godt, så gråter jeg, uten unntak. Men det er altså trist, ikke nødvendigvis dystert. Men det avhenger av hvordan det spilles.
Stokowski gjør det for hurtig her, så det blir oppmuntrende trist!:
Men så kommer Janssons, og han styrer fint mellom trist og dystert.
Men skal det være riktig trist, og dystert, så må det spilles og vises slik. Ormandy:
Og dette er skikkelig dystert - her synger et lik:
- Ble medlem
- 23.11.2008
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Mht dysterhet er det lite som slår "Trouble Every Day" av Tindersticks.
K
Kaare G. Opsahl
Gjest
Denne! Fantastisk plate
Vedlegg
- Ble medlem
- 01.10.2005
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Hank Williams`"Alone and Forsaken" fremført av 16 Horsepower.
Salige David skrev ikke mer sjelevrengende salmer enn dette...(om enn med et annet fortegn
"We met in the springtime, when the blossoms unfold
The pastures green, and the meadow gold
Our love was in flower, as the summer grew on
Her love like the leaves, have all withered and gone
Roses have faded, and there's frost at my door
The bird of the morning, wont sing anymore
The grass in the valley, has started to die
And out in the darkness, the whippoorwill cry
Alone and forsaken
By fate and by man
O lord if you hear me
Take hold my hand"........etc
Salige David skrev ikke mer sjelevrengende salmer enn dette...(om enn med et annet fortegn
"We met in the springtime, when the blossoms unfold
The pastures green, and the meadow gold
Our love was in flower, as the summer grew on
Her love like the leaves, have all withered and gone
Roses have faded, and there's frost at my door
The bird of the morning, wont sing anymore
The grass in the valley, has started to die
And out in the darkness, the whippoorwill cry
Alone and forsaken
By fate and by man
O lord if you hear me
Take hold my hand"........etc
Ingen som har nevnt Per Bergersen?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Per_Bergersen
"da skal jeg pynte juletre med hjernegrøt og blod..........."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Per_Bergersen
"da skal jeg pynte juletre med hjernegrøt og blod..........."