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Once, an ex tried to convince me to go back together with him in a quite, let us say, original way. He said that he really wanted to wake up next to a singer because, according to him, we get up singing. Did it work? No way! I remained irreducible. And you do not need to feel sorry for him, okay? The guy was a jerk. What kind? A “I-do-not-like-you-traveling-alone-to-conferences” kind of jerk. Nevertheless, he had a point.

I always thought this was something everyone did on a normal basis. It never occurred to me that entering the day singingit was a privilege, let alone a specific characteristic of singers. I wonder if my many birthday rituals also count as, let us say singer’s follies.

The thing with my b-day superticious is that they are quite flexible, but they usually include changing the bed linen, bringing the garbage out, followed by a nice shower or bath, finalizing with a glass of Champagne by midnight. They may or may not include posting a story on a social network (sign of the times) or some sort of self-care routine, such as a facial moisturing mask.

Silly? Sure it is silly, but it helps me somehow, not only to leave the previous solar year and all the stuff I do not need anymore behind, but also getting ready for the new cycle to come. To be honest, I think my rituals are charming, say what you will.

You know what? I am sure you have your rituals too, if not for your birthday, at least for some special dates, such as New Year´s Eve. Am I right?

Here in Brazil there are many rituals for the last last of the year: we dress in white, eat lentils and grapes (seven grapes, to be more specific) and there is a complete chapter on how the colour of your underwear will influence your life in the coming year (yellow for money, red for love, green for health, so on and so forth, and another one for the beach-related rituals suposed to bring you good luck.

My guess is that we follow rituals for a variety of reasons, including the fleeting feeling of power over a destiny we do not control. Whatever your ritual to start another year might be, I wish you face the inevitable coming challenges with courage, because often that is all life asks of us.

Happy New Year and, as Annie Lennox sings in Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This):

Hold your head up (movin’ on)

and keep your head up (movin’ on)

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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I do not like fake adornments. From wigs (as “high tech” aand expensive as they might be) to fake eyelashes, from acrigel nails to breast implants, from dental lenses to plastic flowers. I am aware that perhaps it is not the nicest confession, but it is the truth. You can put it down to my idiosyncrasies, if you must

However, at a wedding reception I attended recently, the centerpieces offered to guests were small arrangements of plastic lilies and forget-me-nots. I not only happily brought mine home, but also gave it some special place in my decoration, and it is now among the books, on one of my shelves.

Lack of coherence? Let me explain the case and then you can judge for yourself.

The bride and groom in question have been together for over thirty-five years and rose a beautiful family. Despite the desire of the bride to make the union official, the ceremony had been postponed several times, for different reasons, all quite tragic.

With superhuman strength, the bride overcame each of her challenges and made her dream come true. And I was lucky enough to be invited to this special moment.

The ceremony was simple and for a few people only. Everything was done by the family: the food service at the cocktail, the decoration, the souvenirs, and the table centerpieces. All that was made with love, facing the the effort that only workers know about: how to make an already tight salary, just for a moment of celebration, a day to remember.

There was so much love at the gathering, tender affection in every little detail, in every piece of cake offered, in every gesture, every smile in the room. In fact, there was a “good vibe” aura all around the place. How could I refuse to take an object offered in an environment of such love and care?

Another of my idiosyncrasies is that I think that objects can hold some traces of their owners and evoke memories. In other words, they have their own beauty, not related to their shape or material, but a certain, let us say, beauty within.

It is a crazy theory, I know, and it probably only makes sense in my head, but I can guarantee that the memories that come to mind every time I look at the small arrangement on my shelf are not only happy, they are truly beautiful.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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This morning I read another report about the sphere inaugurated in Las Vegas with a concert by the band U2. Feedback on the show has been very positive and everyone seems quite impressed with the tons of LED lights and the (poor words, so worn out) immersive experience.

I wonder if these people have ever been to a planetarium in their lives. I remember memorable shows at fantastic planetariums in Osnabrück, Germany and Lisbon, Portugal. And we are talking about the 1990s and 2000s!

Honestly, I am surprised (in a negative way) by the collective mesmerization, in the worst sense of the word, with inventions that, honestly, are nothing new (the true global cult of cars, so harmful to the environment, comes to mind).

It seems that everything that has been done before social media simply never existed. I would say there is a tendence of treating “old” (pre-social media) events as new stuff, or even worse, sometimes they are considered revolutionary, disruptive etc. The very word “experience” has reached a level of overuse by publicity pieces, that it no longer inspires the slightest confidence.

Thge point here is not to question the quality, much less the merit of the band U2 (who, in fact, neither asked nor need my opinion).The reflection I would like to bring today has to do with the widespread use of pyrotechnics in the most diverse musical events.

How much of our already weakened attention can withstand yet another bomb of visual stimuli and still reserve some attention for the music?

Among the artists you know with astronomical numbers of followers, how many people they brought to the stage on their last performance? Hard to rememeber, right? No wonder, with screens that go up and down, dancers with vibrant choreography and costume changes, musicians are just a tiny detail.

I cannot help but thinking that the sparkling lights are taking a place that should be occupied by the music/musicians.. That is, when we are lucky enough to have musicians on stage.

Currently, not only many festivals host attractions whose performances are based on pre-recorded beats, they also consider lip-sync part of the show. And I am not talking about kind-of-hidden-pro-tools-lip-sync”. I am talking about headline performers who would shameless scream words (“Jump”, “Make some noise”) in their mics, while their pre-recorded song goes on.

I am ready to hear any arguments in favor of these resources, I honestly am. However, I fear that any theoretical contortionism will end in some sort of an absolute defense of the concept of entertainment, which I am not opposed to either.

Previously this year, I discussed the difference between large and small concerts, and I am perfectly convinced that there is an audience for everyone. I do not see entertainment as a problem, not at all. The problem is, when there is nothing but entertainment.

Particularly in relation to music, the problem ist that music production has to be reduced to mere entertainment. This is indeed sad, because it means a loss, a decline in its status a form of art. Have you ever heard someone making a comment like: “Well, I did not like that film/exposition, play, because it is sad and I go out to be happy”? I have the impression that this sort of weird reasoning had spread itself throughout society.

Do you know what would really impress me? That people would no longer be hungry and that, at night, everyone would have a shelter. Other than that, honey, there is no sphere giant enough to impress me, and all I can think of all the buzz is: it has been done, babe.

Be seeing you!

G. F.

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The flu I had last week caused a sinus attack so acute that I lost my sense of smell for a couple of days. It was a very terrifying experience, if you ask me.

Firstly because it was the first time it happened to me, but also because my sense of smell is very keen, which means (and this became even more evident during those strange days) that I guide myself in many actions throughout the day based, in large part, on the smell of things.

Suddenly, I fet as if the world had become a place without smells, the good and the bad ones. From cooking to deciding whether or not to wash a piece of clothing, everything became a little more complicated without being able to rely on the smell of things.

In addition to these serious aspects, there was also the irony that I had just bought a new perfume. And this is not something common for me. I have so much trouble finding a fragrance that I like and that is not too strong and cloying for my in normal conditions extemely sensitive nostrils, that I usually end up going back to lavenders no perfum at all.

Well, and then just when I had mad up my mind and decided to give a new fragrance a chance… I cannot smell it. Perfect timing, at least from the for comic relief point of view.

Without the alternative of enjoying my recent purchase with my sense of smell, I turned to the aesthetic side, that is, the perfume bottle. Some context: I had purchased the fragrance without seeing the bottle, based on the experience of a free sample, one of those that comes in a small 4 ml bottle, and the first thing that occurred to me, was that the team responsible for the design had done a really lousy job.

Without the distraction of the fragrance, it was clear that the shape and colors of the bottle were not only ugly, but also did not communicate well with the name of the perfume, as they did not convey at all the idea of “illuminating” suggested by the name of the fragrance.

Photos and description of the olfactory family of the perfume are great tools, but the design of the bottle can be the decisive element in the purchase, which leads us to a reflection: am I taking care of the bottles of the products I sell?

I know it is hard to thinnk about music productions as “products”, but let us play the marketing game for a moment, shall we? Now, take deep breathe and think about your next project as if it was the launch of a new fragrance: what would you say about your bottle? Is it communicating your message the way you want it?

Think about it and do not forget to smell the roses, along the way.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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Pillow Talk (1959), dir. by Michael Gordon) is a romantic comedy released in 1959 and starring Rock Hudson and Doris Day, who was an excellent jazz singer, by the way. The title in Portuguesse is quite different (“Confessions at Midnight”), bu tit still keeps the meaning of the the expression, which refers to confessions and secrets, the kind of talk that only happens privately.

It can also have another meaning, referring to the inevitable moment of facing our conscience (and the consequenced of this act). It is possible to hide many things from many people, for a long time, but it is much more difficult to hide things from yourself. At least for long.

My theory is that as years pass by, we tend to find ourselves more and more in situations where we got to, let us say, be real or, as an expression that I like very much goes: “no one escapes from the pillow”.

After telling you how I made peace with my sleep cycle and how I became the BFF with my bed, I thought I should end the trilogy with a little confession: I have never been able to find a pillow that I like.

They say that many of our most ingrained habits come from observing our parents during our childhood. In my case this is completely true at least in this aspect. Just like my mother, I prefer thin, practically imperceptible pillows.

What I did not tell you last week about my super chic bed is that in addition to new sheets, I also bought two pillows, that are now always dressed up like the best haute couture bedding. However, behind the ridiculously expensive pillows there is a small, timid pillow, but despite its obvious aesthetic disadvantage, it is my very favourite one or, better saying, the one that bothers me the least.

Is it too much to ask for a headrest that does not sink? And,p lease, do not try to fool me with”astronaut technology”, copper wires or a weird design talk. I want a pillow, not a space station.

There is an aspect to be highlighted here: when you really like the something, you will find a way to keep in contact with it. The same goes for the work of an artist, I guess. There are many really talented musicians doing their thing, despite of not having huge press coverage.

Their crowd might not be a “fandom”, but they are good, loyal old school fans, and they appreciate what you do. They connect to your music, and they feel part of your community, even if your community is not a loud one.

They will not shout on socials how much they love you, but they will “pillow talk” you, and this is the kind of talk that sticks to you to life.

Be seeing you!

G.F.