31 de marzo de 2008

40 puntos a falta de 8 jornadas!!!


el athletic se vuelve de Huelva con un puntito en el zurrón después de jugar un partido malo, malo, malo, además con gol de aduriz, que le pasa a aduriz?, ya no se va ni de las meninas de la calle ercilla, amorebieta super revolucionado, iraola desaparecido en la primera parte sobre todo, parecía que el lateral era yeste,... en fin, que lo que vale es el puntito y ya si nos ponemos del mismo centro de bilbao, podemos decir que la uefa está a un punto menos, 5 concretamente ;)

28 de marzo de 2008

Más bandas para el BBK Live 08



Nuevas promesas se suman al bbk live, riders of the storm (los doors sin morrison y también sin ian atsbury), los blues brothers y gari, además the raveonettes, krakovia y hotel persona.

26 de marzo de 2008

Domingo Bbk Live 08


Tequila vuelve a los escenarios 25 años después y dará su primer concierto en las campas de kobetamendi el domingo 6 de julio, por cierto que es la primera banda confirmada para ese día.

25 de marzo de 2008

La UEFA más cerca ;)



Octavos, ay amatxu, quién nos lo iba a decir, aunque vamos a decirlo bajito por que el mick jagger del villamarin, alias paco chaparro, dice que tienen un as en la manga que hará que se jueguen los 25 minutos que quedan, supuestamente hoy va a salir a la luz, asi que no queda otra que esperar acontecimientos.

Aun así convendría recordar a los béticos que los dos goles que dan la victoria al athletic no los metió el comite de competición, por que parece que el betis iba ganando 3-0!!

Estoy hasta el forro de las "ayuditas" de villar, resulta que el año del centenario la federación ya había decidido que el athletic ganará la copa, en la eliminatoria de copa contra el betis de hace unos pocos años todos los verdiblancos llorando por que villar iba a clasificar al athletic y luego nos robaron la eliminatoria a la puta cara, de que van, llorones!!!

me parece injusto que por un cafre se tenga que suspender un partido, pero es que ya van siendo unos cuantos cafres, si no que se lo digan a juande o a los periodistas bilbainos que tuvieron que salir escoltados, total por que la "modélica" afición del betis los quería linchar, que cosas tenemos, o podemos repasar las actas de esta temporada,... aun así la salvación está muy cerca y espero que este año vivamos un final de liga más tranquilo.

aupa athletic!!!

12 de marzo de 2008

nvivo.es


Si quieres estar enterado de los conciertos que se celebran a tu alrededor, no dudes en visitar nvivo, incluso te puedes registrar y recibir alertas en tu email.

9 de marzo de 2008

7 de marzo de 2008

Nuevo álbum de Goldfrapp, 'The Seventh Tree'.

Lleva dos semanas fuera, la primera sólo en myspace
Yo lo considero sublime.
Lo mejor que Goldfrapp podían haber hecho.
Y no estoy solo, cada vez que recomiendo su escucha otra gente me confirma que es una obra de arte.
Casi casi me retiro de lo mucho que duele lo bueno que es.
Recomiendo efusivamente la escucha de 'Road to Somewhere', 'Eat Yourself' y 'Happiness'.

Con esos tres broches de oro es suficiente, y se entiende el conceto del álbum. Jaté.
Voy a tener que confesarme de lo que me gusta, cáspitas.
Qué envidia más poco sana me está dando.
Debajo clip en directo de 'Hapiness', del pasado domingo, presentación oficial del álbum en Channel 4's '4music'.

Nueva incorporación al Bilbao BBK Live 08


ZZ Top y sus famosas barbas estarán en kobetamendi.

6 de marzo de 2008

Tesla - Paradise (Bandas kobetasonik)


Antes de toda la moda de los unplugged, Tesla editaron el impresionante "Five Man Acoustical Jam".

4 de marzo de 2008

Zorionak Saioa!!


Gaur nire koinataren urtebetetzea da!!!!! Zorionak eta musu handi bat digamelonetik!

Más bandas para el Kobetasonik



Saxon



Tesla



Death Angel



Airbourne

Trent Reznor de nuevo


tal y como lo anunció, trent reznor a pasado de las discográficas para su último album y lo vende exclusivamente por internet. Ghosts I-IV

"This music arrived unexpectedly as the result of an experiment. The rules were as follows: 10 weeks, no clear agenda, no overthinking, everything driven by impulse. Whatever happens during that time gets released as... something.

The team: Atticus Ross, Alan Moulder and myself with some help from Alessandro Cortini, Adrian Belew and Brian Viglione. Rob Sheridan collaborated with Artist in Residence (A+R) to create the accompanying visual and physical aesthetic.

We began improvising and let the music decide the direction. Eyes were closed, hands played instruments and it began. Within a matter of days it became clear we were on to something, and a lot of material began appearing. What we thought could be a five song EP became much more. I invited some friends over to join in and we all enjoyed the process of collaborating on this.

The end result is a wildly varied body of music that we're able to present to the world in ways the confines of a major record label would never have allowed - from a 100% DRM-free, high-quality download, to the most luxurious physical package we've ever created.

More volumes of Ghosts are likely to appear in the future.

- Trent Reznor, March 2, 2008 "


de este modo nos encontramos con diferentes formatos a diferentes precios, desde la descarga gratuita de Ghosts-I hasta la edición limitada de extra-lujo a 300$, cuyos 2500 ejemplares se agotaron a las 24 horas de ponerse a la venta, o lo que es lo mismo 750.000 dolares en un día y sólo con la edición limitada.

Dedicado a todos esos artistas de medio pelo que proclaman que se debería prohibir internet.

Bowie, Eno, Fripp... Colin Thurston.



El nuevo libro sobre el periodo Berlin de Bowie, se dice, no destaca nada nuevo sobre aquellos años cargados de creatividad. Los detalles que han goteado durante los años, incluso de manos de sus protagonistas -como Iggy Pop desvelando que llegó a fumar telarañas para descubrir si era verdad que 'pegaban'- son muchos y elaborados.
Pero por lo menos la foto adjunta en el artículo de The Independent el domingo incluye a Colin Thurston, que ejerció las labores de ingeniero y productor. Y se inventó el electro y el pop electrónico de paso.

Bowie in Berlin, By Thomas Jerome Seabrook

One of the great privileges of being an adolescent rock fan in the 1970s was the travelling you got to do. We went everywhere, and we did it in the most desirable company imaginable – a kind of teenage Grand Tour of cultural hotspots undertaken in inky monochrome and interesting clothes. Everything was paid for by somebody else and the only passport required for full participation in the trip was an active imagination, an involved pair of ears and the 40p cover price of NME, Melody Maker or Sounds. Our favourite rockers did the awkward bit – the travelling – on our behalf, while we sat at home in remote fen villages and pillioned their artistic journeys to Prague, Kingston, Marrakesh, Moscow and Berlin, as if vicarious citybreaking were the very essence of the creative life.

Mein Gott, Berlin was the one, though. It became the must-go destination of the artistically minded in the latter part of the decade, following an on-off three-year creative sojourn there by David Bowie and his associates. Hang out in West Berlin, either corporeally or imaginatively, and you really could claim to be on the front line of something. The city represented the cusp twixt East and West, not to mention the living metropolitan interface between ideology and modernism, sternness and frivolity. Somehow bad clothes looked good in Berlin.

Furthermore, in the lee of the Wall you might utter words like Bauhaus, Der Blaue Reite, Weltschmerz and kosmische, and not get punched in the face. Berlin was indeed the cradle of Zeitgeist (and you thought Zeitgeist was made up by the British media to pass the time while it awaited the moment to invest the word "iconic" with new utility). Above all, it was the place where you might chip at the residue of the Weimar Republic with an untrimmed pinky fingernail. Decadence meets the rise of Nazism, with a Soviet shadow throwing your westerly cheekbone into razored relief. Cool.

Bowie fetched up in Berlin in 1976 with Iggy Pop in tow. Both men were ostensibly in flight from the cokey miasma of the LA lifestyle, within which both were suffocating. In 21st-century parlance, both were looking to keep it real for a spell.

"I hold the same opinion as Günter Grass," Bowie told Vogue, name-dropping like the arty Trojan he has always been, "that Berlin is at the centre of everything that is happening and will happen in Europe over the next few years." In lots of ways he was right.

Seabrook's book is a nuts-and-bolts account of what transpired creatively as the two fugitives hunkered down with their Thomas Mann novels and sufficient RCA money to get drunk on a regular basis while recording five albums between them, with time left over to search for the hero inside. However, do not prise apart the book's expensively stiff pages in expectation of a schematic explication of late-20th-century Europe's impact on the American cultural imperium. Nor read it in the hope that the lid might lift at last on the essential natures of our arty Trojan and his self-harming chum. Don't even expect to get much sense of Berlin.

The book begins by insisting that "During the 1970s, David Bowie was British pop's most talismanic, chameleonic character" and finds a kind of apotheosis in sentences such as the one which launches page 203: "If he wasn't filming or working on music, he would stay in and work on his post-expressionist paintings and woodcuts."

Nevertheless, despite the solemn rock journalese, Bowie in Berlin does have its pleasures. Oh man, look at those cavemen go. And just listen to them drone on about themselves. Seabrook tries his best to put a distance between himself and Bowie's on-off attitude to personal responsibility (in particular with regard to his wife and young son), and he takes a sensible line regarding the singer's apparent weakness for the stylistic fancies of the Nazis. But in the end, you feel, it's the fundamental glamour of the creative cheekbone which really gets him going. That and producer Tony Visconti's Eventide Harmonizer, a kind of proto-sequencer which "fucks with the fabric of time".

For this is the very coin of the Bowie Thing: style is substance, novelty is soul. Low, Heroes and The Idiot were stylish and substantial records, both in themselves and in the manner of their making. You want the fragmented post-modern self rendered as bipedal art-work with a great soundtrack and a few interesting thoughts hoiked not-at-all-randomly from the bran-tub of German philosophy? You got it.

Bowie in Berlin takes nothing away from the mythology which has formed around events that took place in that city between 1976 and 1979, and it adds nothing at all to the understanding of its hero as a man. But it does a more than decent trade in the glimmerings which so appealed to home-bound fantasists at the time, from the drugs and the Harmonizer to Brian Eno's "Oblique Strategies" card-based creative inspiration system. To misappropriate John Berger: they're all splendid ways of seeing oneself

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails