Martine, parisian, is a journalist and she was my friend since the early 80's. She admired our musical taste and the quality of our radio. We often went with some friends to a disco-bar called "Jamaica". That place was mostly frequented by students of Fine Arts and Architecture. The music there, was played by the master of all guilty of such good taste. I remember Martine having so much fun jumping in a foolish way with Nina Hagen's sounds and others... One year ago, November 1, I was on my way to Azeitão, when I heard on the radio AS was gone. I stood in trance. The one who had taught us everything about new music and vanguard music and how to love it would do it no more. The fact is that one year after no one was able to take his place.
He stood at Basílica da Estrela for the last reunion of family and friends. Wolves, as I call them because he called himself "the wolf" due to the hours of his programs late at night. So only when I came back home at 3 o'clock in the morning, I could try to approach him but all doors were closed.
The funny thing is that I knew he was there beyond that wall with the lighted window next to me and I heard a friend of nights and wolves, an owl hooting in the garden in front. And then an enormous plane passed painted in hot colours coming from Angola.
The artist below was deeply admired by himself. He, who intruduced him to us so many times.
The choice came from him. The anger is mine.
Well, the man behind all this permanent discovery of new good sounds, with an amazing art of showcasing, was António Sérgio.
He stood at Basílica da Estrela for the last reunion of family and friends. Wolves, as I call them because he called himself "the wolf" due to the hours of his programs late at night. So only when I came back home at 3 o'clock in the morning, I could try to approach him but all doors were closed.
The funny thing is that I knew he was there beyond that wall with the lighted window next to me and I heard a friend of nights and wolves, an owl hooting in the garden in front. And then an enormous plane passed painted in hot colours coming from Angola.
The artist below was deeply admired by himself. He, who intruduced him to us so many times.
The choice came from him. The anger is mine.
original post Kings of Maybe