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18 de octubre de 2014

La música según Yann Tiersen (3) Esperando a Yann / Meteorites

Reescuchamos 'Infinity' anticipando el placer del concierto de esta noche y publicamos el video de su tema 'Meteorites' (con la guapísima Clémence Poésy) que completamos con su letra, una de las mejores de la discografía del genio bretón, para componer un conjunto audiovisual y poético emocionante, magistral. 

So here we are under London's glass and granite arms as they reach for the half moon. Me a blur of boldness and booze and the rusty Earth polka-dot breeze of you stands stuck to the street in cool shoes. What could possibly go wrong? What could possibly go right? We could list all the good things and list all the bad things but if we're all just vibration what difference does it make? My heart could be a stone. It's a sponge. It's a balloon. It's a lonely rock with a fiery tail falling in your atmosphere burning up and breaking down. So let our atoms melt together; let our nuclei converge. I want you now and your conscience can be clear. My yesterday is dead; the present's an illusion; and tomorrow is just a nightmare away. This is our story. Our movie. This is our rom-com and it ends like this: Without looking up the girl cautiously takes the boys hand. She steels herself then meets his gaze. The boy smiles, the girl surrenders. They kiss. We pull away to reveal more lovers: in a long winter coat a woman straddles a man on a wooden bench; behind a coin operated lavatory two boys passionately embrace; Vague silhouettes sigh behind the steamed windows of a parked car; two figures fumble in a phone box. There's a couple in every doorway and around every corner. Snow begins to fall. We drift up into the sky and look down on the boy and the girl as they become tiny specks on a London street. We pull away further and further until London's gone, England's gone, Europe's gone. Now we're in space watching the earth as the sun rises behind it. Satellites orbit by. A billion stars surround us. We float over the moon, then we cut to black and the credits roll. I want you now and now is all we can know. I want you now and now is all we can know. I want you now and now is all we can know. I want you now and now is all we can know. Imagine we wake up tomorrow and nothing's happened. Think of what we'll never know. One night of love and a month full of doubt. Take my hand; take my tongue. Let's run. Tonight can be a detour; a respite. I'm your bus-man's holiday; your much deserved night off. I'm your sensual sojourner. My heart could be a stone. My heart could be a sponge. This is the end: 10 years in the making; a decade of design. This kiss is hello. This kiss is goodbye.