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luís soares

Blog do escritor Luís Soares

Another white guy in 2017 who takes himself so goddamn seriously

Father John Misty's official music video for his song "Leaving LA" from the album Pure Comedy, out now on Sub Pop Records and Bella Union.


I was living on the hill
By the water tower and hiking trails
When the big one hit I’d have a seat
To watch masters abandon their dogs and dogs run free
Come on baby it’s time to leave
Take the van and the hearse down to New Orleans
Leave under the gaze of the billboard queens
Five foot chicks with parted lips selling sweatshop jeans


These LA phonies and their bullshit bands
Just sounds like dollar signs and
So reads the pull quote of my last cover piece
Entitled “The Oldest Man In Folk Rock Speaks”
You can hear it all over the airwaves
The manufactured gasp of the final days
Someone should tell them bout the time that they don't have
To praise the glorious future and the hopeless past


A few things the songwriter needs
Arrows of love, a mask of tragedy
But if you want ecstasy, or birth control
Just run the tap until the water’s cold
Anything else you can get online
Comic gold or a .45
You’re going to need one or the other to survive
Where only the armed or the funny make it out alive


Still I dreamt of garnering all rave reviews
Just believably a little north of God’s own truth
He’s a national treasure now and here’s the proof
In the form of his major label-debut
A little less human with each release
Closing the gap between the mask and me
I swear I never do this, but is it okay
Don’t want to be that guy but it’s my birthday
If everything ends in a photo then I’m on my way


Mara taunts me ‘neath the tree
She’s like “Oh, great, that’s just what they all need
Another white guy in 2017
Who takes himself so goddamn seriously”
She’s not far off, the strange this is
That’s just what I thought when I started this
It took me my whole life to learn to play the G
But the role of Oedipus was just a total breeze


I watch my old gods all collapse
Whoam way more violent than my cartoon past
It’s like my father said before he croaked
“Son, you’re killing me” and “That's all folks!”
So why is it I’m so distraught
That what I’m selling’s getting bought
At some point you can’t control
What people use your fake name for


So I never learned to play the lead guitar
I always more preferred the speaking parts
Besides there’s always someone willing to
Fill up the spaces that I couldn’t use
Nonetheless, I’ve been practicing my whole life
Washing dishes, playing drums, and just getting by
Until I figured if I’m here than I just might
Conceal my lack of skill here in the spotlight
Maya the mother of illusions, a beard, and I


2000 years or so since Ovid taught
Night-blooming teenage rosebuds dirty talk
And I’m merely a minor fascination to
Manic virginal lust and college dudes
I’m beginning to begin to see the end
Of how it all goes down between me and them
Some 10 verse chorus-less diatribe
Plays as they all jump ship, I used to like this guy
But this new shit makes me want to die


My earliest memory of music’s from
The time at JC Penny’s with my mom
The watermelon candy I was choking on
Barbara screaming “Someone, help my son”
I relive it most times the radio’s on
That Tell Me Lies, Sweet Little White lies song
That’s when I first heard the comedy won’t stop for
All the little boys dying in department stores


So we leave town in total silence
New Years Day at 6 o’clock am
Never seen Sunset this abandoned
Reminds me predictably of the world’s end
It’ll be good to get more space
God knows what all these suckers pay
I can stop drinking and you can write your script
What we both think now is

Things It Would Have Been Helpful To Know Before The Revolution

Father John Misty - Things It Would Have Been Helpful To Know Before The Revolution


Director: Chris Hopewell
Video Production House: Jacknife Films
Video Producer: Rosie Lea Brind
Editor: Tom Weller
Director of Photography:  Jon Davey 
Art Direction: Chris Hopewell
Key Animators: Roos Mattaar, Cadi Catlow, Virpi Kettu, Louis McNamara
Art Department: Chris Hopewell, Rosie Lea Brind, Bonnie Griffin, Jo Garland, Siobhan Raw, Rebecca Prior, Elaine Andrew, Lucy Roberts, Mary Murphy, Alison Garner, Zoe Veness, Andy Stewart and Louis McNamara
Edit/Grade: Tom Weller
Digital compositing: Jon Davey and Tom Weller at Jacknife and Bill Pollock at Bonch
Director’s Manager/Rep: Molly Bohas


It got too hot
And so we overthrew the system
‘Cause there’s no place for human existence like right here
On this bright blue marble
Orbited by trash
Man, there’s no beating that
It was no big thing to give up the way of life we had


My social life
Is now quite a bit less hectic
The nightlife and the protests are pretty scarce
Now I mostly spend the long days
Walking through the city
Empty as a tomb
Sometimes I miss the top of the food chain
But what a perfect afternoon


Industry and commerce toppled to their knees
The gears of progress halted
The underclass set free
The super-ego shattered with our ideologies
The obscene injunction to enjoy life
Disappears as in a dream
And as we return to out native state
To our primal scene
The temperature, it started dropping
And the ice floes began to freeze


From time to time
We all get a bit restless
With no one advertising to us constantly
But the tribe at the former airport
Some nights has meat and dancing
If you don't mind gathering and hunting
We’re all still pretty good at eating on the run
Things it would have been helpful to know before the revolution


Though I’ll admit
Some degree of resentment
For the sudden lack of convenience around here
There are some visionaries among us
Developing some products
To aid us in our struggle to survive


On this godless rock that refuses to die


Father John Misty - Holy Shit

Ancient holy wars
Dead religions, holocausts
New regimes, old ideas
That's now myth, that's now real

Original sin, genetic fate
Revolutions, spinning plates
It's important to stay informed
The commentary to comment on

Oh, and no one ever really knows you, and life is brief
So I've heard, but what's that gotta do with this black hole in me?

Age-old gender roles
Infotainment, capital
Golden bows and mercury
Bohemian nightmare, dust bowl chic

This documentary's lost on me
Satirical news, free energy
Mobile lifestyle, loveless sex
Independence, happiness

Oh, and no one ever knows the real you, and life is brief
So I've heard, but what's that gotta do with this atom bomb in me?

Coliseum families
The golden era of TV
Eunuch sluts, consumer slaves
A rose by any other name

Carbon footprint, incest streams
Fuck the mother in the green
Planet cancer, sweet revenge
Isolation, online friends

Oh, and love is just an institution based on human frailty
What's your paradise gotta do with Adam and Eve?

Maybe love is just an economy based on resource scarcity
But what I fail to see is what that's gotta do with you and me