Chronicles of a Vinyl Collector – The Lisbon Era

One of the first purchases I made when I moved to Lisbon a couple of months ago was a turntable (slash radio slash cd and mp3 player) for I wasn’t in the mood to bring my whole hi-fi from home.

The first sign arrived when I was looking for an appartment and the one I ended up choosing has shelves especially designed for vinyl records that seemed to have been constructed four ou five decades ago – which, I may add, is a visible sign of a music lover when you are talking about an appartment as small as a studio. Then, slowly, I began to bring some of my records and, obviously, made some new, interesting purchases.

So this entry is a micro-catalogue of what is on those shelves the moment I write about it. I therefore present you about 10% of my collection.

Imagine, John Lennon (1971),

EMI 2000 digitally remastered edition

 

The Velvet Underground and Nico, Velvet Underground (1967),

Verve 2000 yellow vinyl remastered edition (ltd 500 copies)

 

Portishead, Portishead (1997),

1997 Go! Beat edited by Polygram US double LP edition

 

MTV Unplugged in New York, Nirvana (1994),

2008 Geffen Records European release (part of the Back to Black series)

 

Waiting For the Sun, The Doors (1968),

2009 Elektra reissue 180-gram vinyl US edition

 

A Arte Maior de, Elis Regina (1983)

1983 Polygram Discos double vinyl edition

 

Abbey Road, The Beatles (1969),

1995 Capitol Records Yellow Apple US Release

 

 

Transformer, Lou Reed (1972),

Undated Portuguese RCA – Polygram release

 

 

Disque d’Or vol. 1, Edith Piaf (1980)

1980 Portuguese Columbia edition

 

 

Ralph Burns, Cabaret OST (1972),

1977 ABC Records US edition

 

About Love, Plastiscines (2009),

2009 Nylon Records US Edition

 

Back To Black, Amy Winehouse (2007),

2007 Universal Island Records Europe edition

 

Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana, Leipzig Philharmonic Orchestra (1982),

1982 Spanish Phillips, brazillian edition

 

Pulp Fiction OST, V.A (1991),

2008 MCA Records Europe (part of the Back to Black series)

 

Big Brother & the Holding Company, Big Brother & the Holding Company (1967),

2008 Sundazed Records US mono edition

 

Falco 3, Falco (1985),

1985 A&M edition, US promotional use only release

 

The Big Black & The Blue, first Aid Kit (2010),

2010 Wichita Recordings Ltd UK edition

 

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts’ Club Band, The Beatles (1967),

1967 UK EMI/Parlophone first edition with cutout insert

 

Serge Gainsbourg ft. Brigitte Bardot, Bonnie and Clyde (1968),

2009 4 Men With Beards US edition 180 gram vinyl

The Singles, Pretenders (1987),

1987 WEA Records European edition (Spain)

‘et avec ça je m’en vais’

['Well I used to know someone fair
She had orange ribbons in her hair
She was such a trip
She was hardly there
But I loved her
Just the same.
There was rain in our window,
The FM set was ragged
But she could talk, yeah,
We learned to speak
And one year
has gone by
Such a long long road to seek it
All we did was break and freak it
We had all
That lovers ever had
We just blew it
And I'm not sad
Well I'm mad
And I'm bad
And two years
have gone by
Now her world was bright orange
And the fire glowed
And her friend had a baby
And she lived with us
Yeah, we broke through the window
Yeah, we knocked on the door
Her phone would not answer,
Yeah, but she's still home
Now her father has passed over
and her sister is a star
and her mother smokes diamonds
and she sleeps out in the car
Yeah, but she remembers Chicago
The musicians AND guitars
and grass by the lake
and people who laugh'd
and made her poor heart ache
Now we live down in the valley
We work out on the farm
We climb up to the mountains
and everything's fine
and I'm still here
and you're still there
and we're still around']

Paris, 17th June 1971

Fortune and Old Spice

I should feel lucky for not connecting Carmina Burana’s overture to Old Spice; sure I remember watching those lads fighting against a storm late at night during the break between the two films of TV’s last double feature, but thankfully I learned to enjoy Orff’s masterpiece by its own. And given the fact that Carmina Burana isn’t even an opera, but a scenic cantata, a little girl’s imagination has to struggle a lot more to find something to get attached to. And yes, I did. God, I still do.

I rediscovered Carmina Burana in an old tape my father had given my mother while they were still dating, and then in Oliver Stone’s movie on The Doors; but like most of the people, O Fortuna was the only part that rang a bell whenever I heard someone talking about it. And then it came the time, about a year ago, when I went to see a choir singing it live in front of the main theatre in Lisbon, S. Carlos, and something happened – bang! O Fortuna fell on top of me without any kind of anesthesia, with every note burning my mind and rising it until climax. And by the time it ended, I was crying my eyes out.

Later on I started to listen to the whole composition with much more attention, reading about the poems, Carl Orff himself, the story behind the cantata, etc, and am currently looking for Ponnelle’s adaptation to cinema, which I was told was banned from Germany for years – possibly for reminding Germans about their “dark years”, given the fact that Orff will always be remembered as one of the main composers of the Third Reich.

But every now and then, even if I’m not home, I plug my headphones and look for a recording of O Fortuna online. It always gives me the chills, for I can feel the end and the beginning, the alpha and the omega of Orff’s creation living through every voice that allows itself to be exorcised by a masterpiece. And then I feel the true soul of the piece, an immense connection that began with a couple of poems written in the XIIIth century and ends up in the heart of anyyone that delivers him/herself to the pleasure of listening to Orff’s cantata, allowing it to start a new path inside their own selves.

Carmina Burana’s overture O Fortuna (Carl Orff, 1937)

two tales, one story

Wintertime winds blow cold the season, fallen in love, I’m hopin’ to be
Wind is so cold, is that the reason?
Keeping you warm, your hands touching me
Come with me dance, my dear, Winter’s so cold this year
You are so warm, my wintertime love to be
Winter time winds blue and freezin’ comin’ from northern storms in the sea
Love has been lost, is that the reason? Trying desperately to be free
Come with me dance, my dear, Winter’s so cold this year
And you are so warm, my wintertime love to be
Come with me dance, my dear, Winter’s so cold this year
You are so warm, my wintertime love to be

J’avoue j’en ai bavé pas vous mon amour
Avant d’avoir eu vent de vous mon amour
Ne vous déplaise en dansant la Javanaise
Nous nous aimions le temps d’une chanson
À votre avis qu’avons-nous vu de l’amour ?
De vous à moi vous m’avez eu mon amour
Ne vous déplaise en dansant la Javanaise
Nous nous aimions le temps d’une chanson
Hélas avril en vain me voue à l’amour
J’avais envie de voir en vous cet amour
Ne vous déplaise en dansant la Javanaise
Nous nous aimions le temps d’une chanson
La vie ne vaut d’être vécue sans amour
Mais c’est vous qui l’avez voulu mon amour
Ne vous déplaise en dansant la Javanaise
Nous nous aimions le temps d’une chanson.

[it was the last time]

‘You are so warm/ My wintertime love to be’

A very recent purchase made me seriously reconsider the status that The Soft Parade held as my favourite The Doors’ album. The reason is quite simple and it’s called Waiting For The Sun. Yes, we all know that this is quite a controversial issue – even the river knows that, apparently -, but having the most part of The Doors’ records in vinyl often gets me thinking about line-ups, A-sides and B-sides, lyrics content and other several points that a logical mind likes to analyse before deciding who is “the” number one.

A new edition of Waiting For The Sun, remastered and in 180gram vinyl found its place in my shelf last Sunday, and although I already knew quite well the album, the amazing way it flew from song to song and into my ears came as more than a mere coincidence – as if it spoke to each moment with an easiness strangely built between simple, plain Nature and the melancholy of big cities when left alone, drowning in their own lights and sounds, and both fading as fast as human life (and yes, the album is short, its running time is of approximately half an hour).

Although Waiting For The Sun is a natural consequence of People Are Strange, it seems to exist some sort of “gap” between the new-bought album and The Soft Parade, as if there were something missing, some album that should make a softer transition from one point to another due to their infinite differences in almost any level.

So the final veredict is a tie; I do not give The Soft Parade up as number one favourite that easily, but Waiting For The Sun made me think about the importance of that status; its constant anticipation illustrates a different corner of human behaviour and relates to my own personal world as a necessary catharsis.

I rest my case with Wintertime Love.

The Doors’ Wintertime Love (Waiting For The Sun, 1968)

my wild love

I remember freeways

Summer, beside you
Ocean-brother

Storms passing

electric fires in the night

“rain, night, misery-
the back-ends of wagons”

Shake it! Wanda,
fat stranded swamp
Woman

We still need you

Shake your roly-poly
Thighs inside that
Southern tent

So what.

It was really wild
She started nude & put
on her clothes

Paris Journal, Jim Morrison (1971)