Андрей Луридов
Ты, кажется, читаешь только затем, чтобы находить что-нибудь насчёт тебя и меня. Впрочем, все женщины так читают. © И.А. Бунин
18.03.2013 в 21:47
Пишет leotart:

выдержки из интервью с автором книги, которая возглавила мой Боуи-вишлист *___*
«1972. Over forty years ago. But still those days float through the eyes: the make-up, the pout, the pose, the clothes, the riffs, the words, the voice, the songs, the attitude... Oh! Look at the pretty things and you'll be sure to see him: the moonage daydreamer with screwed-up eyes and screwed-down hairdo; the man who fell to Earth from the prettiest star... He's there in the sex and the showbiz, the greatness and the glitter, the grotesque and the glam; he's there in the noise, the flair, the hair and the despair; in the fuck up and the freak out, the freaking in tongues, the tongue in cheek. He's there in morse-code drums and laser-beam guitars, and he's there when everything's turned up to eleven. He's there when it's none more black, in the calm before the solar storm and in the twist of cosmic fate. He's there in the market squares, ice-cream parlours, opera houses, and all your favourite melodies. He's there in the boys' toys, electric irons and TVs. He's there when it's cold and it rains and you feel like an actor. And he's there when you think of Ma and you want to get back there. And when the knives seem to lacerate your brain, hang on to yourself! Give him your hands! He's wonderful...»



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