Playlist:
Wolf of the Bees - Dead Sea Apes
Acid Couple Kiss - Froth
Backlash - The Girobabies
Being and Nothingness - Great North Star
Buried My Husband - Honeyfeet
She's Gone - PyPy
Ocean - The Owls
Wasted - Mary Joanna and the Southern Electrikk
Gaptooth Elle - Glitter Canyon
Sa Sa Sa Sails - It Hugs Back
Hooks For Hands (Acoustic Demo) - Sugar Army
Wind Blows Harder (Thumpers remix) - Natalie McCool
Serial Immortality [Part6/Part7] - DeStijl
Distress - Popstrangers
Anatolia - Naik
Jungle Struttin' - The Lions
Riley - Hotel Wrecking City Traders
My Friend - Groove Armada
Nakemarra - Hiatus Kaiyote
Being and Nothingness - Great North Star
Buried My Husband - Honeyfeet
She's Gone - PyPy
Ocean - The Owls
Wasted - Mary Joanna and the Southern Electrikk
Gaptooth Elle - Glitter Canyon
Sa Sa Sa Sails - It Hugs Back
Hooks For Hands (Acoustic Demo) - Sugar Army
Wind Blows Harder (Thumpers remix) - Natalie McCool
Serial Immortality [Part6/Part7] - DeStijl
Distress - Popstrangers
Anatolia - Naik
Jungle Struttin' - The Lions
Riley - Hotel Wrecking City Traders
My Friend - Groove Armada
Nakemarra - Hiatus Kaiyote
Before Summer Rain
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Suddenly, from all the green around you,
something-you don't know what-has disappeared;
you feel it creeping closer to the window,
in total silence. From the nearby wood
you hear the urgent whistling of a plover,
reminding you of someone's Saint Jerome:
so much solitude and passion come
from that one voice, whose fierce request the downpour
will grant. The walls, with their ancient portraits, glide
away from us, cautiously, as though
they weren't supposed to hear what we are saying.
And reflected on the faded tapestries now;
the chill, uncertain sunlight of those long
childhood hours when you were so afraid.
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Suddenly, from all the green around you,
something-you don't know what-has disappeared;
you feel it creeping closer to the window,
in total silence. From the nearby wood
you hear the urgent whistling of a plover,
reminding you of someone's Saint Jerome:
so much solitude and passion come
from that one voice, whose fierce request the downpour
will grant. The walls, with their ancient portraits, glide
away from us, cautiously, as though
they weren't supposed to hear what we are saying.
And reflected on the faded tapestries now;
the chill, uncertain sunlight of those long
childhood hours when you were so afraid.
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