DRESSED IN RED

DRESSED IN RED - A WALK THROUGH THE CITY IN ENGLISH AND CZECH

I feel like mother after hard birth pangs. Maybe I haven’t survived, bled to death at the delivery room, left my body stained with blood lying somewhere at the corridors dark like night but the life I’ve given to that child shall not be stopped in bloom.

And now it comes into the world to get beaten and gain experience and rejoice and grow and I’ll just stay in the distance and pay attention like a careful parent at the playground.

It is always a strange feeling, something ended and something new begins. Two years of nothingness that were binding my hands and tongue and then emptiness and darkness, crisis, sadness and then again a hope with the first notes shouted out in the world.

Bloodflies. I was at the mountains of Slovakia in the neverending silence and there at the bridge over the stream intriquing for that terrible triplet rhythm and looking for words I would bark into the chorus, because one thing was clear since the first note, THIS was going to be a single, crop-full with dark energy, something that makes you stamp into the rhythm and shake your head. The beginning of a story that is a cliché same like comics itself and Lady Torment and suffering on a cross in a neverending orgasm and latex and black lines and vampires that suck out of you… everything.
And Starlover, that kinky lovesong for You which resisted for such a long time and a year and a half of waiting for that right chorus that has lifted it all into the clouds. And last winter in exile and an amplifier which fell down the stairs and nothing happened to it... and Vito in the end who took this song and converted it into a club hymn. In The Night Lies The Dawn, the last song made, I have never managed to stay on the ground ever before and make the song as simple as it deserves. Clean and clear, throbbing and alive. And one another lucky chance, when one chord changed and strings have crept in out of the blue to take the song and lift it somewhere above the clouds.

And singing in the night when Vanessa slept behind the door so that a strange crispiness sneaked into the voice and strange sadness and a shadow in this tired dream. And Mystic Highway, which had been waiting for almost four years for the right moment when I found the right attitude and the right end and Brian Eno giving instructions in my dreams – MORE space, just more space, I sublimed in the mist with this song and if you don’t know what’s suffering, please skip this track right away. And then here we got this raw and dirty cell in a long time ago abolished nuthouse where I was forgotten and my head vainly beats into that padded door. Nobody is opening. It’s just me and my demons of sadness. Accused, taken behind the city limits and killed with silent scream I end up here left alone. I run, before myself?

Do I wake up in the darkness, where maybe new lives are born, or am I going to be tried again? Am I a wandering soul who doesn’t know where it belongs? And here comes Brian Eno again, who after sixteen void versions helps to find the right one. One of the first and the simplest ones, how else... so give me a chance and I’ll try, I promise I’ll try...maybe next time. In the city, where rain always pours down from the sky and angels on the houses’ fronts are coming alive and are waving at you. It doesn’t matter that you are dead, so am I. And I’m a shadow that woke up alive just for that thought that You are. I can’t believe that You are... And here comes Lady Death, so beautiful and pure, take my hand because you know, that you’re like a feather doll and a sleep is a gentle friend to get along with. And this chorus will be haunting me for a long time after. How many versions. Ten? Maybe. And a guitar solo across half of the song? Why not. Everything once comes for the first time. And for this trip, you may set sail just once.

And it is time to say goodbye, because this bullet in my head is into pieces with every part of it yelling at me “It’s the end!” I don’t know what happens next, no titles, no happy endings, I do not travel anywhere, I just feel cold. The clock is broken and it no longer measures our time. Farewell. And then this strange guy who lives on the beach came in my dream and convinced me that it is still worth it to write, to dream and to sing, even though it seems that a hope is buried somewhere in the unmarked grave. Perhaps about that, that when those Tibetan monks finally manage to count all the stars in the sky, they all start to fade out, one by one. And that it will be You, who will silently whisper to my ear, that this is the last day of the world.

NEJSI TO TY, NEHLEDÍŠ SNAD NA MNE?
NENÍ TO SNAD STUDENÁ KREV NA KOEČCÍCH PRSTŮ CO LEPÍ SE NA MNE?
JESTLI JSEM SKUTEČNĚ ŠPATNOU CESTOU ŠEL
A VYPRŠEL MI VŠECHEN ČAS?

Jsem jako matka po těžkých porodních bolestech. Možná jsem to nepřežil, vykrvácel jsem na sále, nechal svoje krví zbrocený tělo ležet někde na chodbách temných jak noc ale ten život, který jsem dal tomu dítěti, už nikdo nezastaví v rozkvětu.

A teď jde do světa, kde se bude otloukat a otrkávat a narážet a radovat se a růst a žít a já jen z dálky ho budu sledovat a chránit a hlídat jako starostlivej rodič na pískovišti.

Je to vždycky tak zvláštní pocit, něco skončilo, něco začíná. Dva roky nicoty, který mě svazovaly ruce a jazyk a pak temno a prázdno, krize, smutek a pak zase naděje s prvníma notama vykřičenýma do světa. Bloodflies. Byl jsem ve slovenských horách v tichým nekonečnu a tam na mostě u potoka spřádal plány na ten děsivej trojkovej rytmus a hledal slova který budu štěkat do refrénu, protože od první noty bylo jasný, že TOHLE je singl, nacpanej temnou energií až k prasknutí, něco, co tě donutí dupat si do rytmu a házet hlavou. Začátek příběhu kterej je klišé jak comics samotnej a Lady Soužení a trýznění na kříži v nekonečným orgasmu a latex a černý linky a vampíři, který z tebe vysajou ...všechno. A Starlover, ten divnej lovesong pro Tebe co tak dlouho vzdoroval a rok a půl hledání a čekání na ten správnej refrén, kterej to celý zvednul do oblak. A minulá zima v exilu a zesilovač, kterej spadnul ze schodů a nic se mu nestalo..a nakonec Víťa, kterej si tenhle song vzal a tajně z něj udělal klubovou hymnu. In The Night Lies The Dawn, poslední dokončenej song, ještě nikdy se mi nepovedlo se uhlídat a nechat song tak jednoduchej, jak jen to jde. Čistej a průzračnej a tepající a živej. A zase jedna šťastná náhoda, když se jeden akord změnil a vloudily se stringy který přišly odnikud a odnesly song někam nad mraky.

A zpívání v noci když Vanessa za dveřma spala takže nepozorovaně se zvláštní křehkost vloudila do toho hlasu a divnej smutek a stín v tom unaveným snu. A mystická dálnice, která čtyři roky čekala na tu chvíli až najdu tu správnou polohu a správnej konec a Brian Eno, kterej mi ve snu dával rady – ještě VÍC prostoru, ještě víc, rozplynul jsem se v mlze s tímhle songem a kdo neví co je trápení, ať tenhle song rovnou přeskočí. A pak je tu syrová a špinavá cela v dávno zrušeným blázinci, kde na mě zapomněli a já marně biju hlavou o ty polstrovaný dveře. A nikdo neotevírá. Jsem tu jen já a démoni smutku. Obviněn, odveden za město a s tichým výkřikem tu sám a opuštěný skonám. Utíkám, sám před sebou?

A probouzím se v temnotě, kde snad nové životy se rodí, nebo budu zase souzen? Jsem snad bloudící duše, která neví, kam patří? A zase je tu Brian Eno, kterej po šestnácti marných verzích pomáhá najít tu pravou. Jednu z prvních a jednu z nejjednodušších, jak jinak...Tak dej mi šanci a já se budu snažit, určitě to zkusím...možná příště. Ve městě, kde pořád prší a andělé na domech ožívají a mávají na tebe. Nevadí, že jsi mrtvá, to já taky. A jsem stín, který obživl jen kvůli té myšlence, že Ty jsi. Nemůžu uvěřit tomu, že jsi... A přichází paní Smrt, tak krásná a čistá, vezmi mne za ruku protože víš, že jsi jak figurka z peří a spánek je přítel se kterým si rozumíš. A tenhle refrén mě bude strašit ještě dlouho. Kolik verzí, deset? Možná. A kytarový sólo přes půl songu? Proč ne. Všechno je jednou poprvý. A na tenhle výlet se můžeš vydat jen jednou.

A je čas se rozloučit, protože ta kulka v mý hlavě je na kusy a každou svojí částí křičí, že je konec. Nevím, co bude, žádný titulky, happyendy, nikam necestuju, jen mi je zima. Hodiny se rozbily a už neměří náš čas, sbohem. A pak přišel ve snu ten divnej chlapík co bydlí na pláži a přesvědčil mě, že má smysl psát, snít a zpívat, i když už se zdá, že naděje leží někde v neoznačeným hrobě. Třeba o tom, že když se těm tibetským mnichům podaří konečně spočítat, kolik je hvězd na obloze, začnou jedna po druhé zhasínat. A že to budeš Ty, kdo mi zašeptá do ucha, že tohle je poslední den světa.

CITY OF RED LIGHTS

Sitting inside the skyscraper and the sun goes down again, creating red and yellow flashes through the roller-blinds, here again, feeling like in the Tyrell Building. What is happening, is happening now, and it’s happening fast. Live fast die old, for it is so much to do. Death creeps around like a sinister shade and it seems it has never enough. I’m enjoying life and happily travel through the dark corners of my mind, thinking about those who are gone and travel alone in between worlds. Or in another worlds?
Tommorrow can be pretty different to what we see today. A constant change is the only certainty of life.

So for the glimpses, now for the news.
The new LX album shall be titled “CITY OF RED LIGHTS”. Feel free to go for any meaning it deserves.
“BLOODFLIES” are doing pretty well I guess and there has been some preparation works for the video shooting again with Dan and Igor and it’s quite promising. The video shall be out in autumn together with the album.
“STARLOVER”, a kinky lovesong for my beautiful girl is another new song that will be featured on the album and it was included in our setlist in Hard Rock Café past Wednesday.
As far as the production work goes, it is now quite clear that the new album will be a lot different to what we’ve ever done before. I hear a lot of backwards sounds, and a reverb. A lot of reverb. And maybe a Daniel Kessler’s ghost possessed my Epiphone Joe Pass.
Have a beautiful holiday ;)

J.

Notes I.

I wanted to place the story inside of the noir movie, like it was all a strange sinister dream performance in a theatre or a room with red curtains. It's maybe David Lynch, maybe comic book, maybe noir story from in-between-worlds of life and death. Many sounds are backwards, like you would wake up in a lucid dream on psychedelic drugs. It is a sort of a vampire cabaret of a modern age. It is sarcastic but not hopeless. There is still this dirty city outside the window, but you feel reconciliated with the fact that you are part of that dirt yourself.

There's this city, it's dark, in black and white. Except the red colour shines out of the shades. And there is always rain in the streets. Strings of water pouring down and the downtown mess touching your ears. Car horns, people arguing, somebody screams at each other. Do you feel love? It seems so distant. Pain. And loneliness. Waiting for redemption. Waiting for the rain to stop.

march songs 2010

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away I composed a couple of songs and I gave them a poetic title "March Songs". It was in 1991, i think and one of the song was called "Dark Land", that was later re-done and appeared on our first album. I just reminded that since it is March now. It's been some time since then. Well, that doesn't mean I'm going to write songs about getting old, but I would lie if I said I'm not concerned about it lately. Well, more about staying young, to be precise. I got used to the fact that my contemporaries are fat, bald, having grown up children and the last record they bought was U2's Pop.

And I'm thinking about finally getting some desired tattoos, writing poetry and songs about sex and death and destiny and vampires, thinking about new "March Songs" full of lush, make-up, desires and suffering, drinking wine and enjoying life.

I'm a weirdo, I guess, but I like it.

..untitled

Přežil jsem svou smrt a ze záhrobí zpívám
posílám pozdravy jak třásně na smutečním dortu
jak perly z vlasů mtrvé
jak ozvěny z doby která minula
...
My own death was the thing I have survived
Now I am sending greets like fringes on a funeral cake
like pearls from hair of a dead girl
like echoes from times once gone

...

neposlany dopisy se mi kupej v hlave
nevyrceny myslenky
ztraceny
jak v prazdny lahvi od vonavky
vycpely
zivoty

the unsent letters gathering in my head
unspoken thoughts
lost
like in an empty perfume bottle
lives
vanished away

NIGHT OVER PARIS

A night over Paris
So calm and so bright
I am dead
But so are you

We are trapped in time


On the rooftops
On the city lights
Watch guardians
Are weeping for us

For the city the bitch the lover
Dressed in leather boots
And plastic around her legs

City that always sleeps
Sleeps with us

So when the morning comes

I am lonely
But so are you

Statuses

Listening to White Lies.
Suffering at work.
Feeling too young.
Writing lyrics.
Enjoying nice weather.
Dreaming of Fender Jaguar.
Planning few tattoos.
Looking forward to hear some finished LX track again.

Are we alone? You don't mean it, do you?

One day, people will realize and take for granted that the whole universe is a one big living organism.

I guess that people in the future will laugh at the widespread idea of our time that we're the only intelligent lifeform in the universe. Even now it sounds a bit absurd, doesn't it?

Nothing, just a little glimpse today. More news coming soon.

INVOKING SPIRITS

Next week I'm gonna disappear to well-deserved vacation on the mountains, so I'll be completely off-line. Quite looking forward to it. Lately I became maybe too addicted on being on-line and it seems that it sucks off more creativity and energy out of me than I first thought.

I found out that I have concentrated more on being on-line and taking care about the things around the band than on what's most important - music.
So I guess a week without being connected to the outer world won't do any harm. I am trying to invoke Jim Morrisson's spirit and dig the last drops of emotions from myself and save the last pieces of creativity.

I'd like to ignore all the trends (have we ever been trendy? I guess not - and that's why we're still not successful at all), but let's say - fuck it.
I don't care. I'm old enough to know that being successful is not just a result of creating a good music. And I even strongly doubt that my music is good. So far I would like to write a song that would somehow resonate in me and create the feeling I once had when writing Follow Me..or Ultraviolet. Maybe they aren't good songs, but they're special for me.

Let's not be too pesimistic. For myself, guys from the band, who rely on me and mainly for the fans/friends, who are not indifferent to what they are listening to, I'm writing my songs. Maybe I could write some piece of shit and we would have thousands of people in front of the stage, but I simply cannot write anything I wouldn't believe in. It wouldn't be true and people would easily recognize it and maybe we wouldn't even have thousands of them in front of the stage. And I would certainly lose the ones I do care the most.

Question of these days is: do I believe in something? Something I could write my songs about? I don't know, but perhaps I could write songs about how I search for something to believe. Or write a song about having nothing to write of. Anyway, I have plenty of glimpses made in my notebook, less or more interesting, but what I think I have lost, is the ability to put all the things together to make a good song. Well, let's say there wasn't much time to try and comparing to previous years I've had more time to live and enjoy life than just dreaming about it. Is the fact I'm the happiest I've ever been in my life the reason for not writing songs? I guess it's not. I thing I'm just lazy. Big time.

Enough of complaining. Because you read this, it's clear that I still haven't given up. And I hope we're gonna come up with something that wouldn't be just a few songs to calm down the company and promoter.

The songs will perhaps be about a desire. Or more precisely about desire to find a true desire.

Broken nails, the way I'm crawling up the wall into the light.

I really recommend an interview with Hana Hegerova in latest Reflex. It's a real inspiration.

Have a great time and merry xmas ;)

Thanx janne

WHITE ROOM NEWS

Let's revive the tradition of short news from LX's camp.
Today just few glimpses.

Guns'n'Roses' album "Chinese Democracy" is out - well, one thing less to make fun of.

More interesting thing - Placebo are gonna play a special gig at Angkor Wat, Kambodia, dedicated to raise awareness and increase prevention of human trafficking. As it is the first concert ever in this UNESCO heritage and first performance of Placebo with their new drummer, it'll be a really special event for sure.

I'm fighting with my sloth, but some new ideas are being born. I have almost all the song names and few lyrics done.

Rob attended a premiere of "Creamfields 2008", a documentary about the party and the armageddon. You can find the trailer, together with a piece of 'Anywhere' on YouTube.

I've finally managed to get the indie video of 'Anywhere' from I.G. so now you're finally able to take a look at it on YouTube and our website.

New LX album won't be produced by J.P.Muchow - unfortunately he's too busy :( few more interesting names yet in store. But it's sure that the new album will have a producer.

Soundcard is still broken, so far no guitars involved in demoing.

LX video for 'Sway' has surprisingly appeared on "Emoblog.cz". Are LX emo? Nothing's impossible, I guess. Looking forward to stripe-dressed pierced teenagers under the stage :)

The new album shall be released at X production next year.

Still hoping that Interpol will come to play to Czech Republic someday. If not, guess it'll be time to travel out for them. After Placebo, there is perhaps no band these days that would really touch me the way this band does.

There is yet no working title for the album. Any suggestions?

Next year will be the first year of LX playing gig outside Czech Republic (westwards).

I have a parrot. He's yellow-green budgerigar and his name is Larry Mullen jr.

that's for the news, C U L8R
J.

Autumn Twitting

I feel really tired after the moving. Seems that my backbone is not constructed for such amount of load. Day before yesterday I couldn't almost move. Today I'm able to turn my neck already but it's still far away from being fresh and free.

My soundcard is out of order. This is real bad news as I was planning to start to work hard on new songs. I'll try to have it repaired as soon as possible or the new album will be pure electronic one. Which was obviously not my intention at first.

Good news is as well that a meeting of the band is scheduled for this week and there are some really interesting news in store. Stay tuned.

Everybody these days is asking the same question: Where has our old Sparta gone?

Dave Gahan is still looking cool even in his mid-40's. How the hell is he doing that? Got to ask him.

And last, but not least I can't forbear to write this down: New Facebook really sucks!

untitled

I am like a chord tight to crack
Like a junkie before a fix
Obsessed by creation
And incapable to move withal

I am a tumor inside my head
A parasite of myself
I am a guile
A nervous reptile

I am a sight out of the dirty window
My own shadow
That burns

BLOGGER STRIKES BACK!

A brief twitting after summer holidays. Chinese Olympics sucks – glad they’re over. Politics and propaganda were never my cup of tea, and it’s a shame that sportsmen didn’t have enough courage to steer clear of this bitter theatre. Money doesn’t stink, I guess..
Having cable TV with more than 60 other channels than sport, I managed to successfully boycott and ignore the whole thing. All I know is that the American mutant has won some 8 medals or something because it’s simply everywhere.

Frost comes after years from Cremlin again. No matter how deep the rabbit hole is, I reckon this time it leads to doubtful sources of gas and oil. The same arguments as Nazis had back in the 30’s for aggression – questionable “protection of our citizens abroad”. This is simply inexcusable. And it proved once again that Russians will never give up what they called “area of our interests”. Ironically among the high point of the stupid debate “shall we have this radar here or not?” I guess the Russians hurried to bring the heaviest argument themselves. I hope that it helped some people to wake up.

Summer vacation was really fine, first of all some nice festivals, Creamfields escape before mayhem, Sazavafest on beverage truck rulley and one little festival on Czech-Polish border full of homeless and ska, than relaxing in the countryside doing absolutely nothing. Ideal holiday for me ;) The band is now being put on ice, some new ideas come to my mind, but very slowly. I was supposed to do music for some fashion show but eventually it didn’t turned out. About my plans in next post.

Yesterday I saw “Horton Hears A Who” and it’s really cute ;) And I guess it’s a nice and optimistic end of this post.

Thanx J.

Short note by native European guy

I don't celebrate Valentine's day, I don't celebrate Halloween, I don't like Santa Claus.
I celebrate 1st May, I celebrate Memory of Deceased 2nd November and I believe in Little Jesus.

That's all I wanted to say today.

Something about poetry

Say I’d really like to find the real identity, the real sense. Among the poetry and the life fucked up above a wineglass in a room full of smoke. Existencionalism is a false friend, a furbished whore hiding a worm..a worm that may eat you from inside. It all looks pretty attractive unless you go through it. There’s nothing more sad than an eyeview on a poet, or so-called one, a wretch and a loser being broke both materially and spiritually trying to think up above a glass of wine something that would last for ever..may it all end up just with both glass and the notepad being empty.. poetry is nice, being a poet is not great bargain.

Still, there’s perhaps a slight chance that the paper in front of you catches something special, something unique, perhaps just a spirit of a moment..one single glimpse of eternity in a dirty booze joint, somewhere in the middle of an old town, or quiver of heart from two eyes just passing by, or maybe just a feeling that writing about having nothing to write about still makes some sense..

There are many things that may poetry say, much more than a poet can think about when writing, maybe that’s why it’s all somehow worth it. A poetry shall be much bigger than a poet. A poet is insignificant, can turn into an alcoholic wreck, having forgotten even his own words, but a poetry shall remain and sound off.

NEXT?

Having slowly started to compose new ideas for some distant release, some things are constantly floating through my mind..how we can penetrate this hidden veil that divides the exceptional work from the flock of averageness?

Always push the limits, artistically and humanly.
It is pointless to make music without knowledge of at least trying to get better and better. Improvement in every area is my goal since I have begun to compose. To surprise listeners and to surprise myself has to be the primary goal. To have somehow a courage to experiment and to extend personal and professional boundaries and artistic limits.
Our sound has to be enigmatic and eccentric all the way through.
Thinking about the pigeon holes that many people have tried to stuff us in since we ever started to appear in so called “scene”, I will help myself with part of an interview with Brian in some US magazine last autumn: “Creative expression represents a sort of freedom, and it’s tapping into an instinct with so many borders in the rest of the world, and so much significant meaning – and questions and answers that – it’s a kind of place we wouldn’t like to go, or think about, or even justify“.

For me, the question „what comes next“ is pointless in a way. There always will be a present, and it’ll bring many inspiration and surprises for us all.

I don't understand it - again...

First time I didn't want to comment it, but having read another news article about this topic, I cannot restrain.
Children in one Sudan's class voted for the name of the teddybear "Muhammad".
So far so good.
Until the crowds of thousands of people were calling for her death. Until the class teacher was sentenced for 15 days jail (and I guess that such moderate punishment was chosen only because of the "perpetrator" being a foreign citizen - stoning or whipping was yet in store).
What the fuck shall that mean..
We're appealed for the tolleration. We acknowledge the entire crowd of religious, ethnical, cultural minorities, opinion streams.. but be aware when you find yourself on the other side of the map.. for you might be sentenced to death even for simply being who you are. No common sense. This is madness for me. And I don't understand it. And I slowly become being pissed off with people who want to freely practice their religion here, wear burkas and turbans and build mosques in Europe, but at the same time are acclaiming death to anyone different in their countries.
Don't tell me that islam is a peaceful religion. Perhaps christianity was a "peaceful religion" too in the middle ages when they were burning people on the bonfires.
Any religion proclaiming death and hell for the non-believers is a pure evil, and its followers are
servants of evil.

EXIT?

It's now some distance taken from the release of EXIT:Nowhere and the first stage of the tour almost over. When reading all the reviews and thinking about the energetic and funny touring (tour diary coming soon), when thinking about all the irony and sensuality shining from the songs, when thinking about complete misunderstanding of the sense of the songs, as from the journalists as from the common people (few fans are light exceptions).. I cannot defend myself from having some dull thought like: "Is this really the album I nearly died for?" .. Well, life's full of surprises.

It's been time since the last post hasn't it?
Strange.
Well, I started now with change of template. Something shall follow. Yeah, maybe some tour diary perhaps, it will take some time to translate it. We'll now have the last festival ahead.
I guess that everything concerned with the band now has something in common with the word "maybe" :)
seeya J.