“…And I talked to Jesus at the sewer and the Pope said it was none of his God-damned business…”
Beyond Truthful Account Of Recent Memory:
Last night (finally), with the help of technology and piracy (equally), we were able to marvel at what promised to be one of the best (if not best) documentaries of recent memory. “Searching For Sugar Man” is not only deserving of the Academy Award it won, but it deserving of any man/woman/child that consideres themselves fans of singer-songwriters, true musicians and hometown heroes. Most documentaries take what I’ve dubbed the “Noun Concept”; take a person/place/event and research it well and present it to the audience. Most great documentaries leave you satisfied as a cinephile and content that you could learn something interesting and intriguing about said subject. This film surpasses any celluloid expectation yes, but it does what most don’t/cant: it makes you stand in awe and complete respect for this humble musician that for a million and one ways, was cheated out of much deserving recognition. This man should have been referred to in the same breath as Dylan.
Most friends, fiends, and passerbys have reached out and complemented me through the years on the music I choose to surround myself with. I don’t do this too often, but if you want to discover truthful, songs, tunes, words and outbursts filled with nothing else but beauty and grit, watch this film and get introduced to the living-legend, Sixto Rodriguez.
Welli, welli, welli…
1986 by Matt Leunig
Prints available at scrapedknee. Matt’s portal into everybody’s collective childhood captures that moment late at night when you knew you should have been going to bed, perfectly aware that your face was gonna eat desk later that day in class due to no sleep, but you persevered anyways because you just had one more level to beat. Although, if you’re like me, there is no fundamental difference between adulthood and childhood, as I still do this with no regrets!
And look, Fernando Alfonso at dailydot GIFified it with magical movingness:
1986 in my room.
“I know too much about life to have any optimism”