Muzick ... deviant

Απάντηση: Muzick ... deviant



Υ.γ. Ο τίτλος του νήματος μου αρέσει πολύ.

 

Στις περισσότερες επιλογές η ερωτική παρέκκλιση εκφράζεται κυρίως μέσω της εικόνας και του λόγου, (εν προκειμένω του στίχου). Στον Χάρολντ στην Ιταλία, έργο που ο Εκτόρ Μπερλιόζ εμπνεύστηκε από το ομώνυμο ποίημα του Μπάυρον, είναι η ίδια η μουσική που αναλαμβάνει να περιγράψει ένα όργιο που κορυφώνεται μ’ έναν ομαδικό βιασμό:



Sir Colin Davis and the London Symphony Orchestra perform Hector Berlioz's Harold in Italy.

Solo Viola - Nobuko Imai

 

Απάντηση: Muzick ... deviant

Ωραίο νήμα, ζουμερότατο!!

Οι Κodagain μελοποιούν Oscar Wilde: ''Τhe Ballad of Reading Gaol''
(...)Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.



Ιnterpol, απίστευτη εσωτερική δύναμη..μαύρη κι άραχλη!!



All that I see
show me your ways
teach me to meet my desires...with some grace

All that I fear
don´t turn away
and leave me to plead in this hole of a place...what if I never break
estuary won´t you take me
far away
far away

All that I seek
please police me
I want you to police me
but keep it clean
uhhh...

now that you mean.. my day
now let´s take them away
(that´s why I hold you)
Strong as you´ve seen
bold as you behave
(that´s why I hold you)
you will always obey
(that´s why I hold you)

 

Κι ένα εξαιρετικό ελληνικό τραγούδι που θεωρώ εξόχως deviant σε μια απροσδόκητη εκτέλεση:



Ο χρόνος είναι ο χειρότερος γιατρός
σε καίει, σε σκορπάει και σε παγώνει
μα εσύ σε λίγο δε θα βρίσκεσαι εδώ
κάποιοι άλλοι θα παλεύουν με τη σκόνη.
Θέλεις ξανά ν' αποτελειώσεις μοναχός
ένα ταξίδι που ποτέ δεν τελειώνει
κάτω απ' τα ρούχα σου ξυπνάει ο πιο παλιός θεός
μες στις βαλίτσες σου στριμώχνονται όλοι οι δρόμοι.

Ποιοι χάρτες σου ζεστάνανε ξανά το μυαλό
ποιες θάλασσες στεγνώνουν στο μικρό σου κεφάλι
ποιος άνεμος σε παίρνει πιο μακριά από δω
πες μου ποιο φόβο αγάπησες πάλι.
Σε ποιο όνειρο σε ξύπνησαν βρεμένο, λειψό
ποιοι δαίμονες ποτίζουν την καινούργια σου ζάλη
ποιος έρωτας σε σπρώχνει πιο μακριά από δω
πες μου ποιο φόβο αγάπησες πάλι.

Το όνειρο που σ' έφερε μια μέρα ως εδώ
σήμερα καίγεται, σκουριάζει και σε διώχνει
μια σε κρατάει στη γη, μια σε ξερνάει στον ουρανό
το ίδιο όνειρο σε τρώει και σε γλιτώνει.
Θέλεις ξανά ν' αποτελειώσεις μοναχός
ένα ταξίδι που ποτέ δεν τελειώνει
κάτω απ' τα ρούχα σου ξυπνάει ο πιο παλιός θεός
μες στις βαλίτσες σου στριμώχνονται όλοι οι δρόμοι.

Ποια νήματα σ' ενώνουν με μια άλλη θηλιά
ποια κύματα σε διώχνουν απ' αυτό το λιμάνι
ποια μοίρα σε φωνάζει από την άλλη μεριά
πες μου ποιο φόβο αγάπησες πάλι.
Ποια σύννεφα σκεπάσαν τη στεγνή σου καρδιά
ποια αστέρια τραγουδάνε την καινούργια σου ζάλη
ποιο ψέμα σε κρατάει στην αλήθεια κοντά
πες μου ποιο φόβο αγάπησες πάλι.

Ποιες λέξεις μέσα σου σαπίζουν και δε θέλουν να βγουν
ποια ελπίδα σε οδηγεί στην πιο γλυκιά αυταπάτη
ποια θλίψη σε κλωτσάει πιο μακριά από παντού
πες μου ποιος φόβος σε νίκησε πάλι.

 

Finger deep within the borderline.
Show me that you love me and that we belong together.
Relax, turn around and take my hand...

 

Απάντηση: Muzick ... deviant

Sugar Sugar Sugar
Keep on driving on
Until the City of right
Becomes the City of wrong

That stretch is long
You'll slip and slide
That stretch will find you
Gagged and tied



It's a lot
It's a lot
Like life

There's a new game
We like to play you see
A game with added reality
You treat me like a dog
Get me down on my knees

We call it master and servant
We call it master and servant

It's a lot like life
This play between the sheets
With you on top and me underneath
Forget all about equality

Let's play master and servant
Let's play master and servant

It's a lot like life
And thats what's appealing
If you despise that
throwaway feeling
From disposable fun
Then this is the one

Domination's the name of the game
In bed or in life
They're both just the same
Except in one you're fulfilled
At the end of the day

Let's play master and servant
Let's play master and servant

Let's play master and servant
Come on master and servant.

 

Απάντηση: Muzick ... deviant

Ο δικος μου SM υμνος,χρονια τωρα,απο τον ξεχωριστο Frank Zappa!!!



Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes and scratch their matted hair
A tiny light from a window hole a hundred yards away
Is all they ever get to know about the regular life in the day;
An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops

Slime 'n rot, rats 'n snot 'n vomit on the floor
Fifty ugly soldiers, man, holdin' spears by the iron door
Knives 'n spikes 'n guns 'n the likes of every tool of pain
An' a sinister midget with a bucket an' a mop where the blood goes down the drain;

An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops.

Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig in a chamber right near there
He eats the snouts 'n the trotters first
The loin's 'n the groin's is soon dispersed
His carvin' style is well rehearsed
He stands and shouts
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
And disagree, well no-one durst
He's the best of course of all the worst
Some wrong been done, he done it first

(Well, well) An' he stinks so bad, his bones been chokin'
(Yeah) 'N weepin' greenish drops,
(Well) In the night of the iron sausage,
(Well) Where the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops.

Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Who are all those people that he's locked away up there
Are they crazy?,
Are they sainted?
Are they zeros someone painted?,
It has never been explained since at first it was created
But a dungeon like a sin
Requires naught but lockin' in
Of everything that's ever been
Look at hers
Look at him
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in

 

Απάντηση: Muzick ... deviant



Bring it back,
sing it back,
bring it back,
sing it back to me

When you are ready, I will surrender
Take me and do as you will
Have what you want, your way's always the best way
I have succumbed to this passive sensation
Peacefully falling away
I am the zombie your wish will command me
Laugh as I fall to my knees

Bring it back,
sing it back,
bring it back,
sing it back to me

Can I control this empty delusion?
Lost in the fire below
And you come running your eyes will be open
And when you come back, I'll be as you want me
Only so eager to please
My little song will keep you beside me
Thinking your name as I sing

Bring it back,
sing it back,
bring it back,
sing it back to me

Bring it back,
sing it back,
bring it back,
sing it back to me

Come to my sweet melody (repeat)
No, you can't help it if you feel have been tempted
By fruit hanging ripe on the tree
And I feel useless
Don't care what the truth is
You will be here come the day
Truth do you hear me?
Don't try to come near me
So tired I sleep through the lie
If you desire to lay here beside me
Come to my sweet melody

Sing it back to me (sing it)
Bring it back (sing it)
Sing it back (sing it)
Bring it back
Sing it back to me

(Sing it, sing it, sing it)
(Sing it back to me)

Bring it back
Sing it back
Bring it back
Sing it back to me

 

Απάντηση: Muzick ... deviant

Λατρεμένος, έτη φωτός μπροστά  

Δεν θα βάλω στίχους, θα βάλω 2-3 κλασσικές κυνικές ατάκες του
"There are more love songs than anything else. If songs could make you do something we'd all love one another. "
"In the fight between you and the world, back the world."
"Jazz is not dead, it just smells funny."

 

Απάντηση: Muzick ... deviant

Πάλι Sadomazombies ...Under Her Feet!

 

Απάντηση: Muzick ... deviant

Take What's Mine
Make Me Feel Good
Make Me Feel Soft
Come Into My Room
Put Your Hands On My Throat
Now Choke Me
We'll Die

Make Me Nothing
Make Me Nothing
Be My Father
Be My Father
Think For Me
Make It Right
Think For Me
Make It Right
Put Your Hands On My Throat
Choke Me
We'll Ride
​

 

Απάντηση: Muzick ... deviant

Για να δούμε πόσο ζουμερή θα σας φανεί αυτή η ανάρτηση. Ο σεφ σήμερα προτείνει νεκροφιλία.

Ξεκινώντας από κάτι σχετικά απλό. Η Anna Varney, από μόνη της μια "παρεκκλίνουσα" προσωπικότητα (γεννήθηκε άντρας, δεν έχει κάνει αλλαγή φύλου), μελοποιεί ένα ποίημα του Πόε, την Κοιμωμένη. Ένα ποίημα που αγγίζει τα όρια της νεκροφιλίας.

The Sleeper



At midnight, in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.
An opiate vapor, dewy, dim,
Exhales from out her golden rim,
And softly dripping, drop by drop,
Upon the quiet mountain top,
Steals drowsily and musically
Into the universal valley.
The rosemary nods upon the grave;
The lily lolls upon the wave;
Wrapping the fog about its breast,
The ruin moulders into rest;
Looking like Lethe, see! the lake
A conscious slumber seems to take,
And would not, for the world, awake.
All Beauty sleeps!—and lo! where lies
Irene, with her Destinies!

Oh, lady bright! can it be right—
This window open to the night?
The wanton airs, from the tree-top,
Laughingly through the lattice drop—
The bodiless airs, a wizard rout,
Flit through thy chamber in and out,
And wave the curtain canopy
So fitfully—so fearfully—
Above the closed and fringéd lid
’Neath which thy slumb’ring soul lies hid,
That, o’er the floor and down the wall,
Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall!
Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear?
Why and what art thou dreaming here?
Sure thou art come o’er far-off seas,
A wonder to these garden trees!
Strange is thy pallor! strange thy dress!
Strange, above all, thy length of tress,
And this all solemn silentness!

The lady sleeps! Oh, may her sleep,
Which is enduring, so be deep!
Heaven have her in its sacred keep!
This chamber changed for one more holy,
This bed for one more melancholy,
I pray to God that she may lie
Forever with unopened eye,
While the pale sheeted ghosts go by!

My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep,
As it is lasting, so be deep!
Soft may the worms about her creep!
Far in the forest, dim and old,
For her may some tall vault unfold—
Some vault that oft hath flung its black
And wingéd pannels fluttering back,
Triumphant, o’er the crested palls
Of her grand family funerals—

Some sepulchre, remote, alone,
Against whose portals she hath thrown,
In childhood, many an idle stone—
Some tomb from out whose sounding door
She ne’er shall force an echo more,
Thrilling to think, poor child of sin!
It was the dead who groaned within.


Ένα άλλο κομμάτι από την ίδια κυρία που μάλλον θα αρέσει στον vautrin, αν έχω κρίνει σωστά τα γούστα του. Ως ανταπόδοση. Τα ευρήματά σου από τον χώρο της κλασσικής ήταν όντως αναπάντεχα, τουλάχιστον για μένα. Ουδεμία σχέση με bdsm. Απλά, αυτό που λέει ο τίτλος.

Questions beyond terms





Και τώρα κατάδυση σε πιο υπόγεια μουσικά μονοπάτια.

Ο ιταλός Atrax Morgue χτίζει drone/noise μουσικά ηχοκύματα, αναπτύσσοντας τα με αργόσυρτο και βασανιστικό τρόπο γύρω από τα αγαπημένα του θέματα του έρωτα, του θανάτου και της παρακμής. Αυτοκτόνησε το 2007.

Από corrupted delights :

You seem obsessed by death-decay-sex: how do you relate all those elements togheter?
I feel a high connection between sex and death. I feel connections in every contrasts and extremes: Birth-Death, Black-White, light-darkness, purity-sleazyness , beauty-uglyness……To make sex is like to die. As you probably know G.Bataille called orgasm as a little death. And i think that not only to make sex is like to die. Every moment we pass we die. The past is always dead. The future is a black hole.

Death obsessed artists (witkin, Nitsch, Baudelaire, Sade) often eroticise death- do you? Does it interest you to?
Yes, i always eroticise death. Death is the highest expression of sexuality/ sensuality. I like very much these artists like Witkin, Nitsch, Sade and especially Georges Bataille and Hans Bellmer (that was also very good friends…)They made fetish as a philosophy centred on the eternal
life-death cycle, eros-thanatos. Their art is erotic, sadomasochistic, feticist and perverse. they had an hard fight against society that always condamn death and sexuality like disorder elements and charge them with taboos and prohibition. Bataille and Bellmer have decided to run " a way without compromises, a stormy way, that one of the human being in his integrity without mutilations". At the basis they suppose that a man that do not try eroticism beyond the limits is alienated like the man that have not known the interior experience.

Do you enjoy violence? How?
Well, i'm not a sadist. I don't like gratuite violence.I'm more masochist and i like more psychological violence upon the masses. I'm a great mass-hater! If i'll be able to express my final wish it will be to destroy all humanity - and after this, to kill myself.

Crush my cock


Myself as a corpse




Για το τέλος, το καλύτερο. Τι είναι αυτό που ακόμα και μια καλλιτεχνική σκηνή σαν αυτή του LA αδυνατεί να ανεχθεί και αναγκάζει έναν καλλιτέχνη να ταξιδέψει μέχρι το Μεξικό και το Τόκυο για να ολοκληρώσει το έργο του; Τίποτα λιγότερο, τίποτα περισσότερο από μία performance στην οποία ο καλλιτέχνης θα επιδίδεται σε νεκροφιλία. Κυριολεκτικά. Όσοι θέλουν και ηχητικά ντοκουμέντα, παραπέμπονται εδώ(μην περιμένετε να βρείτε κάτι στο youtube).

Θα κλείσω με κάτι πιο απαλό. Δεν γνωρίζω αν η Beth Gibbons έχει τίποτα bdsm τάσεις. Δεν αποκλείεται, για τέτοια γυναίκα. Σαν κάτι να διακρίνω όμως, πίσω από τους φαινομενικά απλούς στίχους του παρακάτω τραγουδιού.

Undenied


Your softly spoken words
Release my whole desire
Undenied
Totally
And so bare is my heart, I can't hide
And so where does my heart, belong
Beneath your tender touch
My senses can't divide
Ohh so strong
My desire
For so bare is my heart, I can't hide
And so where does my heart, belong
Now that I've found you
And seen behind those eyes
How can I
Carry on
For so bare is my heart, I can't hide
And so where does my heart, belong