Lanny Gordin – Projeto Alfa

O grupo originado em 2001 apresenta o repertório de seu primeiro CD, lançado em 2004. Liderado pelo guitarrista Lanny Gordin, um dos principais nomes do pop-rock dos anos 60 e 70. O Projeto Alfa conta também com o guitarrista Guilherme Held, o contrabaixista Fabio Sá e o percussionista Zé Aurélio.
Dia(s) 30/11 Quarta, às 20h. SESC Consolação

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The Legendary Pink Dots

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

The Legendary Pink Dots are a UK rock band formed in London at the end of the late 1970s and who although distinctly underground, have been musically influential over the years. The band has as its focal point the vocalist of the band Edward Ka-Spel, who is, along with Phil Knight, one of the original remaining members of the band. Their music is nothing if not original and it is difficult to categorise, but comparisons may reasonably be drawn at certain points with bands like Pink Floyd and Can.

In 1984 the band transplanted itself to Amsterdam which led to a shift in the original lineup, the original bassist Roland Callaway leaving at this time.

Their sound has been described as an amalgamation of psychedelic rock, industrial, synth-pop and avant-garde. They have released over 40 records since and continuously tour the world.

Members of the band have also collaborated with Skinny Puppy‘s cEvin Key, forming a band named The Tear Garden. Key also appears on the 1994 album 9 Lives to Wonder.

Partial Discography

External links

About the Other Animals

by Ariana-Sophia Kartsonis

The ones Noah forgot, those poor swimmers
God-fearing ghosts on three legs left sinking
in their own faithless tides. The lungfish
were the last to go. Winded from the flood,
breathless from gossip of someday oil spills,
underwater politics, the coming world; tired
of the swim, they made it to the ark,
to its crowded on-board aquarium just in time.
But the others were denied their passage,
littering the shore like so many
Penelopes and Ariadnes.
I’ll return for you, Noah told them,
Wait there on the other bank, I’ll be back.

Noah of the nameless wife, who could believe him?
But they did, and they waited. Waited
until their coats grew matted and frayed, until
the sea became all, overpowering, supreme:
water floor, water ceiling, water walls.
Until their lungs deluged, burst open, collapsed.
(Assuming they had pelts
and lungs and hearts, way back then).
And Noah? He was just another hero,
a floating saint with places to go.

Some say they were the loveliest
of animals—silvery-scaled
feathers, leopard-spotted fins, snowy fur
on their underbellies, jeweled azure eyes.
Others claim the beasts were to blame
too graceful, too leisurely. Taking their sweet time
and drinking iced coffees with the angels,
reciting poems to the stately gazelles
(who left rudely at Noah’s first trumpeting call).
These refined beasts were in no hurry to catch the fleeing ark.
The lost creatures denied
their passage. Always other, always animal.

You can wait, Noah said.
So they did. Swallowed by the storm, suppose
they saw grand things—the throat of the seas,
the underside of an old world and more.
Still, they were left behind.

Rumor has it seven mosquitoes boarded that day,
uninvited, no less; while the other animals
drank the ocean, all seven seas, bits of sky,
maybe more. Call it hearsay, unwritten
history, a last wish, a lie.
That story went down with the old sins
and the olive tree (minus one branch, one dove).
How does it matter now? So many wives’
tales later, rotten apples, borrowed
ribs, snakes in trees, gaps
in the telling and retelling
and untelling.