Crippled Black Phoenix is a progressive experimental post rock act from the United Kingdom, led by Justin Greaves, active since 2004. With a complex style, that crosses various genres, Crippled Black Phoenix has managed in just a few years to become a legendary group within the underground scene, breaking soon after into the mainstream, with a moderate degree of success. The band has become notorious for their stage presence and vigorous live performances, acquiring a reputation that made them an icon of contemporary experimental rock. For the entirety of their existence, Justin Greaves has been the only constant member. For live shows, he partners with a competent and dedicated team of musicians, that conceive with epic greatness all the lugubrious, but grandiloquent atmosphere by which Crippled Black Phoenix is well-known. 

Given the fact that the experimental character of the group's music — which, by virtue of Justin Greaves' leadership, mostly reflects his creativity and preferences — is exceedingly experimental, and often crosses several genres, like neo-rock'n'roll, neo-psychedelia and ambient music, the sound of Crippled Black Phoenix is thoroughly hard to categorize. Most of all, Greaves' main priority revolves around the desire to develop a personal creative atmosphere that can provide the conception of something very unique, singular and original, capable of making the band's style easily recognizable, which, to a considerable extent, was sucessfully done, and heavily compromised with a degree of authenticity never seen before in the history of underground music. 

As a matter of fact, all efforts made by Justin Greaves seems to be directed at designing something exceptionally singular; indeed, all the band's albums seems to attest the search for achieving superior goals of genuinely authorial standards of artistry, to the highest degree possible.

Since late 2014, Justin Greaves and Karl Demata — a former guitarist for the group — are involved in a legal battle concerning the band's name. This has caused several distresses and considerable misfortunes for Greaves, that frequently addressed the subject in the band's official social media, apparently full of resentment and anger.

Well, now that you know a little about the history of this fantastic band, let's get down to what really matters, the music. Below, I selected my four favorite Crippled Black Phoenix albums — as well as a live performance, as a "bonus" —, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. 

The first of these albums is A Love of Shared Disasters — that, although I'm not quite certain —, I think it's their debut. Released in 2007, this exceedingly extensive album, seventy-seven minutes long, already features the proverbial elements that would make the group's style severely singular and expressively prominent. Smooth guitar lines, slow dispersive melodies, calm, serene and almost minimalist harmonious densities, that discreetly becomes ominously long, and sensible cantilenas diluted in an ocean of everlasting melancholy, all combined to project a magnificent, but almost delusional perception of a terribly vague, but desperate void. 

The record has the following tracks: The Lament of the Nithered Mercenary, Really, How'd It Get This Way?, The Whistler, Suppose I Told the Truth, When You're Gone, Long Cold Summer, Goodnight, Europe, You Take the Devil Out of Me, The Northern Cobbler, My Enemies I Fear Not, But Protect Me from My Friends, I'm Almost Home and Sharks & Storms / Blizzard of Horned Cats. With a very beautiful, but profoundly technical, as well as impeccable musical diligence, the album is inadvertently authorial and highly experimental. Despite the fact that some passages are relatively monotonous, A Love of Shared Disasters manages to be an epic collection of musical symphonies, that seems perfectly aligned to one another, as a majestically crafted opera, that was entirely conceived from the outer elements of a distant galaxy, created especially to supply human existence with the most splendorous and solemn material ever designed for the delight of the soul. 

A fantastically dense, majestic and graciously epic state of the art work, A Love of Shared Disasters will take you to a journey that you never thought it would be possible. But to fully enjoy the voyage, you will have to close your eyes. Your soul and your most introspective sensibilities will undertake the most fabulous journey you could ever do, without leaving your bedroom.  

Released by Invada Records in 2009, 200 Tons of Bad Luck is in fact a compilation, consisting of twelve tracks: Burnt Reynolds, Rise Up And Fight, Time Of Ye Life, Wendigo, Littlestep, Crossing The Bar, Whissendine, A Real Bronx Cheer, 444, A Hymn For A lost Soul, A Lack Of Common Sense and I Am Free, Today I Perished.

With an interesting, but very depressive and melancholic musicality, that displays some elements of blues — as well as progressive rock —, this compilation reunites the very best the band has done in their first five years of existence. With a fantastic ability to make sensationally soft, dispersive and omnipresent melodies, this exceptional masterpiece can be considered one of the band's greatest records; all of its majestic virtues condensate into an invariably smooth, but surreal epicenter of tragic sonorous rapture, whose marvelous appointments with desolation reveals a sometimes abrasive and rude rock 'n' roll, that flirts constantly with its own dramatic and disruptive tendencies. 

The first track — the epic and spectacular Burnt Reynolds —, is an abrasive and sober anthem of sweet and desperate demise, that easily elongates in the frontiers of its own diffusive harmonies the poetic densities of its conspicuously pleasant and sensible sonorous atmosphere. 

Although this record occasionally falls into more generic and monotonous musical territory — especially because the songs are so long, and here, unlike other albums the band released later, we have a more moderate degree of melodic variation —, 200 Tons Bad luck somewhat manages to be a gracious, serene and enjoyable work, that vividly shows the best qualities the band has to offer to its audience. Their unimaginable versatility, prominently featured throughout the record, also gives the listener sensational sensory surprises.

The third of my favorite albums is I, Vigilante, released by Invada Records in 2010. Giving continuity to their ever restless, evolving, unexpected and experimental nature, Crippled Black Phoenix conceived this spectacular effort in a considerably different fashion from A Love of Shared Disasters. A little shorter too, about forty-eight minutes long, this record has six tracks: 1) Troublemaker; 2) We Forgotten Who We Are; 3) Fantastic Justice; 4) Bastogne Blues; 5) Of a Lifetime; 6) Burning Bridges; with a more serene and unpretentious nature, the sound of this album is a little more clean and less abstract. Nevertheless, the group maintains some of the elements by which they became known, such as exceedingly aggrandizing dispersive melodies and very soft allegorical overflowing densities.

Unexpectedly, some songs transform literally into quasi-ballads, especially while turning into very tender and sentimental tunes. With a certain graceful voracity, which lulls the listener with a certain affability into its dispersing sound waves, I, Vigilante, proves to be a more compact, but also perceptively organic effort, whose strength relies heavily in the imperative uneasiness of its graciously sensible and poetic desire to sculpt slow harmonies in a more diffuse and elongated sonorous diagram. 

A very interesting and majestic album, whose pristine, but proverbial tenacity easily aspires to a more deliberately fugacious type of artistry, I, Vigilante, is an album that goes from the dark propensities of existential lugubrious anthems of splendor to a realm of more dense and mundane sentimental rethorical lyricism, passing by wistfully romanthic serenades, whose gracious harmonies unquestionably float through the darkest ambivalences of the creative diagram of the music, showcasing a very ambitious, marvelous and relevant record, that undoubtedly deserves to be widely appreciated, from the very beginning until the end. 

The fifth track — the song Of a Lifetime, with its powerfully emotional female vocals, and amazingly graceful, but also vehemently rapturous guitar lines — deserves the highest praise, for its incontestable beauty and exceptional majesty, whose wonderfully creative style displays a sensational atmosphere of classic grandiosity. The last track, the friendly sixties-styled rock 'n' roll tune Burning Bridges, closes this album with fantastic and unexpected opulence, exhibiting a versatility that confirms Crippled Black Phoenix polyvalent style as an inherent part of their unquestionable, unconventional and lucid degree of proficient and primordially uncompromising artistry. Undoubtedly, a powerful album, that has no flaws nor blank spaces whatsoever. 

Released by Season of Mist in 2018, Great Scape is the typical Crippled Black Phoenix album, though here they expand the calmness and serenity of the musical atmosphere, that expand almost continuously from the very beginning, probably making this work a little more grounded in post rock than usual. Nevertheless, the band also exhibits heavy doses of dark rock, post-metal and quasi-ballads full of sentimental lyricism, that not only showcases the exponentially epic versatility of the band's style, but also demonstrates the inadvertently sensitive, somber and melancholic elements that their music displays on this release. 

With eleven tracks — You Brought It Upon Yourselves, To You I Give, Uncivil War (pt I), Madman, Times, They Are A’Raging, Rain Black, Reign Heavy, Slow Motion Breakdown, Nebulas, Las Diabolicas, Great Escape (pt I) and Great Escape (pt II), —, this fantastic masterpiece displays a dramatic and very melancholic musical layout, perfectly compatible with the gloriously virtuous harmonies that make up the bulk of this majestic state of the art work. 

With sober, wise and marvelously dilated melodies, the songs on Great Scape are filled with an expected density, that levitates beyond the unusual creative paradox of its own excessively fugacious musical diagram. Despite the more allegorical genesis of the album, nonetheless, the work is versatile and displays a majestic degree of eclecticism. For example, the song Madman is a very dark, depressive and lugubrious symphony of dispersive agony, that elongates the sober hardlines of its dense musical algorithms to deliberately exasperate the uneasiness of its dilated darkness. The next track, the extensive Times, They Are A’Raging, continues and expands precisely the same sonorous atmosphere, becoming basically a pristine and poetic anthem of digressive restlessness, that fully disperses the pragmatism of its own hopeless solitude in the marvelous guitar lines of a vast and plural creativity, that conceives a deranged mosaic of somber galaxies. The track Nebula — exceedingly gracious, sensationally beautiful and proverbially sad — deserves special mention, as the best song in the album, at least according to my personal preference. The first part of the title track, Great Escape (pt I), is also an interesting cantilena of tenderness and emotional grace, that showcases the magnificent versatility that has become a trademark of the band. 

A thoroughly magnificent album, that expands in an exceedingly radical level all the general qualities of the band, Great Scape is a spectacular musical work, that certainly deserves to be qualified as a masterpiece. With a technical precision and a singular style amazingly versatile, vivid and dynamic, Crippled Black Phoenix one more time exceeds all expectations, and shows to everyone that they are, indeed, one of the best alternative bands in the world.

Last, but not least, a live performance by Crippled Black Phoenix. In this show, its possible to see the grandiosity of their stage presence, the proverbial synchronicity of their musical style and the dynamic interaction between the sound and the audience. Although I really don't think that their setlist on this gig is the best — I sincerely affirm that they haven't chosen the best songs to perform, at least the first ones —, nevertheless, the concert is absolutely fantastic. It's possible to see the impeccable, lucid and energetic strength of the band's musical dynamism and versatility right from the beginning.

The fact that their formidable and consistent musicality is majestically transported to the stage in an almost effortless performance is something that seems too exceedingly astounding to be true; nevertheless, its easy to comprehend their exceptional stage presence when they start to play, as the sound gradually — but also tangentially — revolves around the dense perimeter of their exceptionally crafted melancholic, but concomitantly vivid symphonies. Definitely, Crippled Black Phoenix is almost as magnificent live as they are on their records. With a sensational vitality and a vigorous musical splendor, this particular performance certainly deserves to be classified as a majestic work of art by itself. The fact that they perform with three guitars brings even more restlessness to their unexpectedly authorial progressive style. 

This wonderful concert is definitely a great gift for all fans and enthusiasts of the band, who are sure to be thrilled with a performance of such astounding level of artistic grandeur. If you haven't watched, please watch. I'm sure you will be exceedingly delighted. 

Well, I hope you have liked the article, especially the albums selected, with their respective commentaries and descriptions. If you didn't knew Crippled Black Phoenix, I hope you have appreciated their work. As one of the most prominent bands in the alternative rock scene, and one of the few to go mainstream — being backed by a record company, something rare for a band of this category —, Crippled Black Phoenix has managed to become one of the most respected and important bands of their generation. We all hope they continue on this fabulous journey of glorious and formidable creativity, releasing more incredible albums, and doing fantastic live performances, realizing the dream of living a life exclusively dedicated to music.    


Wagner

Probably, Blues is one the most amazing genres to listen when we are depressed. Evidently, this marvelous style of music doesn't limit itself to just that, it can be enjoyed regardless of the mood. Nevertheless, it's more easy to appreciate when everything is reduced to the gray ashes of desolation. But, of course, you can listen to the Blues whenever you want to. For your joy and amusement, I selected below five random compilations of "Whiskey" Blues, to listen, while relaxing. 

It's interesting to note that the "Whiskey" description can be considered more than just a concept; after all, the drink is a perfect match, a formidable combination that makes the relaxing moment an even more pleasant and delightful experience. So if you have a bottle of whiskey available, why not enjoy and drink, while you listen to these wonderful compilations that I have selected? After all, these simple melancholy songs seem to have been wonderfully made for such poetic and dismal moments, especially when we can enjoy the comforts of solitude, while tasting the most delicious of all drinks.

The first of these compilations brings about everything that I described above. You can have exceedingly pleasant moments of expressively serene, but dense sonorous delight, with marvelous artists like Adam Holt, Kim Wilson and The Chris Cain Band, artists who are not very famous or well known, but still incorporate the soul of Blues with mastery, in all its ardent and fantastic dimensions

This compilation goes on basically in the same vibe of the predecessor, with artists like Fred James, Roxy Perry and Jimmy Dawkins. The beginning is already majestic, with the first song being Dear Daddy, performed by Ida Bang & The Blue Tears. With an exceptional voice, and a drastically melancholic atmosphere, this tune dilutes the soul in a splendid ocean of nostalgia and reflection. The following songs on this marvelous compilation are no less graceful and remarkable.  

This compilation features nine tracks, from mostly unknown, but nevertheless competent and very skilled artists, like Ty Curtis Band, Rob Tognoni and Brett Ellis Band. Here, the dehydrated melancholy saturated atmosphere is even more organic and elongated, with abrasive guitar lines, that revolves around lucid harmonies, designed over a flexible and tenacious sonorous layout. The classic blues traditional sensibility outline the vast majority of these melodies, with a sober respect for the cohesiveness of the genre, despite the authorial and modernist tendencies that prevail in some of these tracks.

A little more energized than the others, this compilation is full of rhythm and dynamism. With seventeen tracks, this selection of blues songs is a little more extensive than the others, being seventy-two minutes long. It features artists like Mary-Ann Brandon, Billy Earl McLelland and Jimmy Dillon. The general style is gracefully simple, polished and balanced, displaying exceedingly vibrant tonalities and a masterfully expansive musical atmosphere. 

Last, but not least, a fantastic compilation, with ten tracks, featuring amazing artists like Gene Deer, Chris Bell and Luther Johnson, to close the deal in superb style. Already in the first track, we listen to the amazingly crafted guitar lines of the magnificent song Slightly Hung Over, that could well be considered a classic of the genre. This terrific tune is followed by the equally majestic Midnight Healing, by  Gene Deer, whose wonderfull lugubrious atmosphere embraces the night in the volatility of its sensible and sad splendor. Definitely, one masterpiece after another, this compilation has everything to entertain with grace and compliance the enthusiasts of the genre.  

Well, I hope you have enjoyed all these formidable compilations featured above. Blues enthusiasts certainly cannot complain, as they are very well served with the all the excellent songs that are part of these selections. Fortunately, these compilations can be appreciated endlessly, time and time again, until you become tired of them, which is something very hard to happen, given the magnificent nature of all these wonderful compositions. Blues is a fantastic genre of music, that renews the spirit and strengthens the soul with a pungent and salutary degree of powerfully serene and spectacular sensibility.  


Wagner

Londonbeat is a British-American dance-pop act, that achieved mainstream success with their hit single I've Been Thinking About You, released in the early nineties. The song — that entered the music charts of several countries — made the band to be known worldwide; however, as with many other artists in the music industry, they were unable to duplicate the success with their following releases, and the band quickly faded into obscurity. Today, Londonbeat is mostly known as a One-hit wonder. 

Nevertheless, led by American singer James Helms — best known as Jimmy Helms —, the band remains active. Nowadays, however, the group's career is mostly dependent on live concerts, where they perform their old hits, since the band hasn't released any new material for more than fifteen years. Formed in the late eighties, the band's first album was the lackluster Speak, released in 1988. In 1990, they released In the Blood, the album containing the single that made them famous. They followed with the 1992 full length Harmony, that although was unable to match the success of its predecessor, still managed to produce two minor singles, "You Bring on the Sun" and "That's How I Feel About You". 

Two years later, they followed with the self-titled Londonbeat. Unfortunately, it was too late. Too much time without a significant single meant that the band had already been forgotten by the vast majority of the public. The release passed by without receiveing any notice from the audience nor the music critics. In 1995, the band participated in the Eurovision Song Contest, but again, they were largely ignored. Without any mainstream success to back them, Londonbeat disbanded soon after.  

Some years later, though, in the early 2000's, the band reunited, when German record label Coconut offered them a deal. Since then, the band released two more albums, Back in the Hi-Life, in 2003, and Gravity, in 2004. Back in the Hi-Life featured re-recordings of their most significant successes, including, of course, I've Been Thinking About You. Both albums were largely ignored by the public, the music industry and the critics, and were commercial flops.

Currently active — performing occasional concerts in mostly small venues —, Londonbeat is now seen as a nostalgia act. Unfortunately, unable to break through the One-hit wonder category, Londonbeat certainly would always be known by their greatest hit, I've Been Thinking About You, which is relatively unfair, since the album Back in the Hi-Life is a very formidable release, and has fantastic songs, like 99 and Where Are U; tracks that, in my humble opinion, are even more amazing than the hit that made them famous. In the present day, the band is a trio, consisting of original members Jimmy Helms and Jimmy Chambers, alongside Charles Pierre.


​Wagner

Eric Roberts is one of the most prolific actors of all time. He has participated in more than three hundred films, and about ninety television productions throughout his career. He has literally appeared in almost all important television shows since the late seventies, including Oz, Touched by an Angel and Law & Order: Special Victims Unit — to name just a few —, and has participated literally in all kinds of motion pictures, from relevant blockbusters like The Dark Knight and The Expendables, as well as other very successful movies, like Inherent Vice and even films from horror franchises, like The Human Centipede 3 (Final Sequence). Nevertheless, there is no doubt that Eric Roberts' extensive filmography is mostly made up of irrelevant made-for-television films, mediocre low-budget independent productions and straight-to-DVD releases, that have largely gone unnoticed. And most of all, he does mostly small participations of only a few minutes, since he is never the protagonist of any project on which he is involved, with a few notable exceptions. 

Most of all, Roberts seems to be a "twig breaker" — a potentialized version of Christopher Walken, an actor also known to be prolific, and who is friends with Roberts —, which means someone who is always available for a job, doesn't matter how bad it is. The most important thing, after all, is the salary. In 2016 alone, Roberts participated in thirty-two films. For comparison, this is Leonardo DiCaprio's entire filmography. But of course, let's be fair, DiCaprio rarely does mediocre movies, and he is always the protagonist of all the productions upon which he becomes involved. All this unbridled level of work, in the end, doesn't seem to compensate, since for a lot of people Eric Roberts is still known as the brother of Julia Roberts, and the father of Emma Roberts, both being way more famous than him. 

Despite the fact that Roberts now is wasting his time doing movies so bad and so lackluster that nobody wants to see, he is a very dedicated and talented actor, who had a brilliant start. Initially, doing mostly lead roles — in severe contrast to his current situation —, Roberts received Golden Globe nominations for movies like 1978 King of the Gypsies and 1983 Star 80. He also received an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor, for his role in the 1985 movie Runaway Train. Two years later, he had his Broadway debut in the play Burn This, authored by Lanford Wilson. For his performance, Roberts won the Theatre World Award. From then on, his career would continue in perfectly good standards, almost without any interruptions. Already a hard-working man, in the beginning of this decade, the demand for Roberts work increasingly expanded, and for a long time now, he rarely has a day off cameras. The actor can be in three different movie sets in a day, since his agenda is always full of work. So he has to mantain a flexible schedule, and is always running against the clock to meet the demands of the productions on which he is involved. Currently, the actor accumulates in exceess of five hundred credits in film and television, being a potential candidate for a place in the Guiness World Record as the most prolific English-speaking actor of all time. 

Of course, Roberts has battled severe problems in his personal life, like drug addiction, for which he sought treatment. He was a guest-star in the television show Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew, where he — alongside his family —, discussed the way his addiction on medical marijuana was affecting their lives. He also had a troubled relationship with his famous sister, actress Julia Roberts, well documented in the press, that now seems to be working towards reconciliation. The estrangement between Roberts and his sisters, Julia and Lisa, who is also an actresses, apparently had started when their parents divorced, and Roberts stayed with his father, while the girls went living with their mother. So each one of the siblings built their lives separately, moving away naturally. Moreover, both Julia and Eric had seemed to have natural differences, as a result of character and personality mismatches, whose friction caused them to grew apart from each other over time, which is something relatively normal in any family. Nowadays, however, they seemed to have resolved their differences, and are no longer deliberately ignoring each other.  

Being an actor in such a high demand is a very impressive achievment, especially for someone like Roberts, who is now sixty-three years old, and is no longer a youth full of energy, vitality and health, as he once was. Nevertheless — if he goes on like this —, making dozens of movies a year, Roberts could double the credits he has accumulated so far, making him undoubtedly a potential candidate as the most prolific actor of all time, at least in the English-speaking world. The most important thing, though, is the fact that he is a terrific and very talented actor, which will continue to entertain us in dozens of interesting and remarkable movies, as well as other productions of inferior category, and, well, let's say, of questionable quality. 


Wagner

Felipe D'Oliveira — born Felipe Daudt de Oliveira, in August 23, 1890 — was a Brazilian poet, journalist and pharmacist, born in Santa Maria, a city located in Rio Grande do Sul, the southernmost state of the country. Now, a mostly forgotten man of letters, he has enjoyed a moderate degree of fame and celebrity during his lifetime. 

Pharmacist by profession, he moved to the state's capital, Porto Alegre, when he was eighteen years old. Early in his youth, he started to collaborate in several newspapers and magazines under his own name, and under several pseudonyms as well, which was a normal habit back then. He also wrote poetry, possibly being remarkably influenced by the European symbolists. Soon thereafter, this literary school was perfectly integrated into his personal style, while he also became a member of the Grupo dos Sete — which means 'Group of Seven' —, a circle of intellectuals and friends dedicated to spreading symbolism in Rio Grande do Sul. In 1911, he published his first book of poetry, titled Vida Extinta.  

The poetry of Felipe D'Oliveira is generally simple in substance, but marked by a sensibility of splendor, grace and perception of reality that becomes tangentially circunspect, as he hides underneath the surface of the words an intricate cosmogony of vulnerable restlessness, that subtlety rises to the forefront of the genesis of his emotional horizon. Despite the fact that at twenty-one years old, he could be inadvertently considered a young and talented poet on the rise, his second volume of poetry — titled Lanterna Verde — would be published more than fifteen years later, in 1926. 

Besides the fact that he was an an accomplished intellectual, Felipe D'Oliveira also displayed fitness for physical activity. He was an avid fencing practitioner, and founded in Rio de Janeiro the Federação Carioca de Esgrima, an association dedicated to this sport. 

Felipe D'Oliveira was also a politically minded and active individual. He was an ardent suporter of the 1932 Constitutionalist Revolution — despite the fact that he was not involved at all in this event —, an uprising that took place in the state of São Paulo, against the government of fascist dictator Getúlio Vargas. For his political convictions, Felipe D'Oliveira was pursued by the police, but managed to evade them succesfully. After getting into exile at an embassy, he went to France, where he would die in a car accident, in February 17, 1933, at forty-two years old. 

He had some books published posthumously, of which we can highlight Alguns Poemas, a collection of poetry, released in 1937, and the prose work titled Livro Póstumo, released the following year, in 1938. Unfortunately, as soon as he died, Felipe D'Oliveira was immediately forgotten by the public and the literary establishment, something that sadly happened to most of his contemporaries, in Brazil. 

In the recent past, however, more specifically during the nineties, some of these forgotten authors — including Felipe D'Oliveira —, had their works rediscovered by a new generation of scholars and intellectuals, who were willing to rescue the literary legacy of once notable, prestigious and relevant writers, who had been entirely neglected for decades by the public, the publishing market and the universities, to introduce them to a whole new audience, who never had the opportunity to read them. Although far from being as comprehensive as it deserved, this work was fundamental to rescue important parts of Brazil's literary canon, that had been entirely forgotten by the sands of time. Now, the formidable work of poets like Felipe D'Oliveira, as well as several other equally magnificent authors, can be properly appreciated, as they weren't for a long time. 


Wagner

Alcântara Machado — whose full name was António Castilho de Alcântara Machado d'Oliveira — was a Brazilian modernist writer who, despite having died too early, at the age of thirty-three, on April 14, 1935, was probably one of the most brilliant, innovative, audacious and relevant man of letters of his generation. He possibly could also be considered the best author in the regional context of the Brazilian modernism, in this case, São Paulo, upon which he arose. However, probably because he died very young, and left an ostensibly concise literary legacy, he never achieved the degree of notoriety and appreciation that he certainly deserves. He remains as one of the most underestimated authors in Brazilian literature. His most notorious works are the short stories collections Brás, Bexiga e Barra Funda, and Laranja da China. 

Alcântara Machado was born in São Paulo, at the dawn of the 20th century, in May 25, 1901. Very precociously, he manifested intellectual tendencies. At nineteen years old, he began his literary career, initially as a critic for a newspaper, reviewing books and theatre plays. Despite graduating in law, he would never follow the profession. In 1926 — after returning from Europe —, Alcântara Machado published his first book, Pathé-Baby, a travel journal about his personal impressions and experiences from the old continent. The preface for this book was written by Oswald de Andrade, a playwright, novelist and poet, that was one of the pillars and axial forces of the Brazilian modernist movement.  

Feeling affinity with the modernists, and appreciating the general trends and core proposals of this cultural insurgence — which in turn was highly influenced by an Italian artistic revolutionary movement known as futurism —, Alcântara Machado partnered with Oswald de Andrade to run a literary magazine called Revista de Antropofagia, upon which they would publish and promote the stylistic and artistic concepts associated with modernism. Some years later, he would run another magazine, Revista Nova, with Mário de Andrade, another cornerstone of Brazilian modernism. These magazines were usually short-lived, as modernism itself would be, given the fact that by the late twenties, the movement rapidly dissolved, and each of its members went their own way separately. 

The main objective behind modernism was the establishment of a cultural revolution in the fields of art and literature, whose proposal was to break with the classic elements that for such a long time had been common pratice among the intellectual elite, but now were considered to be ordinary, archaic, anachronistic and obsolete. The more restless, innovative and refreshing creative talents of the younger generations were highly influenced by the anti-establishment trends that were coming out from Europe, and were absorbing those concepts and ideas into their own work. On his two most famous works, the short stories collections Brás, Bexiga e Barra Funda, published in 1927, and Laranja da China, published in 1928, Alcântara Machado — with a superb degree of originality, virtuosity and splendor —, sucessfully conceived an exceptionally fluid, organic and colloquial style of prose, consecrated with a masterfully genuine level of observation and humor, that certainly places him as one of the greatest exponents of Brazilian literature ever. 

The literary art of Alcântara Machado also displayed another important part of the country's culture, immigration, focusing specifically in the Italian immigrants, a subject that the author has developed with resourcefulness, authenticity, wit and mastery, like no other writer has ever done, at least of his generation. Describing with genuine, colorful and poignant mordacity the boiling cultural cauldron that was the São Paulo of his time, Alcântara Machado conceives a vivid portrait of this new type of person that began to transform drastically the urban atmosphere of his hometown, the Italian-Brazilian, incorporating this character into a radically colorful, but realistic chemistry of dynamic sensibility. This individual, for his part, is the son of the Italian immigrant, a man who adapted wisely his lifestyle, habits and work to the cosmopolitan environment of the then emerging metropolis, turning it into his home, yet projecting into the future of his innermost hopes all the temperance and glory of a simple, captivating and genuinely ordinary life.

Alcântara Machado was certainly a man of his time, and despite the fact that he died very young, his work — albeit very concise, given the fact that he didn't had the time to fully improve his art —, deserves to be widely appreciated, and to be considered one of the most originally colorful, masterful and graceful authors of his generation, that needs to have a place of honor in Brazilian literature. 


Wagner

Regrets

The young middle-aged man with his shirt stretched across his broad chest came home late in the evening after an extensive battle with his boyfriend who had accused him of being starstruck with the Fab Four. He had argued that his lover couldn’t understand that as he was too young to have experienced the magic of the Liverpudlian lads. He hadn’t been there when he had sat in front of the TV with his older sister who still was an avid Beatlemaniac. When she had screamed in seeming agony and then held him close to her, had stroked his hair and had told him, how much he reminded her of Ringo with his prominent nose and his narrow eyes. This had always made him smile and had made him feel, well, special. 

His lover hadn’t understood it back then when they had gotten together and he couldn’t understand it now, after nearly four years. Whenever he was here, was sitting in the living room with the nearly larger than life poster of Sergeant Peppers and the seemingly endless row of vinyl with so many doubles and triples and quintrupials – of course the different labels and the different colors and the little differences mattered! – his lover couldn’t understand him and often referred that the owner of such a place right here in the middle of nowhere, in Smalltown America was living in the yesterday only wanting to get back to the hey-days searching for a day in the life of someone else. That’s why they hardly met here and those continuing struggles had been the reason why he had not gone to see John a few years back in New York.
​
He turned on the TV and listened to the news that had just begun. The anchorman was not smiling his usual half-smile. Not welcoming like he always did. He was very serene, very smitten and he looked straight at the camera, not reading off anything but merely speaking words that did not make sense. He spoke of an assassination in New York City and of a fan turned murder. The news did not only drop like a bomb or a bullet, they struck like a knife and the wound they tore was deeper than any before. The tears were welling up in his eyes before he could even notice. He fell down to the ground and started crying. He should have gone to New York, to that concert and maybe he would have met him at the Lakota, too. Now it was too late, forever. He hadn’t imagined that. Never in his life. 

Thorsten

(editor's note: Music inspires us all, especially reviewers. Sometimes the music we listen to inspires our writers to come up with something different, like a poem or a short story. In these series we compile those writings. Or, as Thorsten wrote:
"This record forced me to write something else"

ambient

Life exists only in connection to witnesses. Post-Modernity can only exist after modernity. Black cannot survive without white. And yet – they are all the same, the are language. Thoughts. A stream of consequences rushing through the tips of tongues or fingers in order to sound and evoke something, be it empathy or a feeling of togetherness or antipathy, a sign of intelligence or utter stupidity. 

However – how to describe something that is voiceless but speaks to us? That instills insight but never affirms? Well, pictures might do. And for the sake of this review, pictures painted by binaries will... 

A state-of-the-art WWII motorbike sliding across the Berlin streets. A left-alone helmet lying on the street, no wonder that high-ranked Ivan is not alive.

The beams of the star gliding across a surface black. S/He wakes up, beams tingling her back.

The mere sound of a deep-tuned bass rolling over it all. The shadows for our hero’s last withdrawal.
 
The rocket slowly getting deeper and deeper into the abyss. Kubrick’s visions – nothing more is this. 

The building right next to the Spree was a palace of rust, but it would never falter, never fall to dust.

Harrison Ford on his last neon-lit run. His search for solution undone. 

Embraces are held for a bit too long. Permeated by each and every part of the next song.

A million words to choose from, but nothing to hold to this form.

Sounding from left to right all is glistening tight. Each idea is shown up when the time is ripe.

The ship is sinking slowly into pure deep. Nothing holds on, it is too steep. 

Falling back onto cushions of drone. All unique, somebody’s clone.

The first voyage to the next planet in line, floating closer to Mars. The humans are about to turn this planet too into a farce.

13 songs, an unlucky number. Thirteen miracles, not one going under. 



Thorsten