Están por aquí cerca y, amables que son los muchachos, se han acercado hasta la Posada para dejar este pedazo de tema, en vivo y con introducción de mucha valía pulmonar.
Que lo disfrutéis.
On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself,
'This could be Heaven or this could be Hell'
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...
Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year, you can find it here
Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes Benz
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget
So I called up the Captain,
'Please bring me my wine'
He said,'We haven't had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine'
And still those voices are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say...
Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
They livin' it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise, bring your alibis
Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink champagne on ice
And she said 'We are all just prisoners here, of our own device'
And in the master's chambers,
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives,
But they just can't kill the beast
Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
'Relax,'said the night man,
We are programmed to receive.
You can checkout any time you like,
but you can never leave!
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself,
'This could be Heaven or this could be Hell'
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...
Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year, you can find it here
Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes Benz
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget
So I called up the Captain,
'Please bring me my wine'
He said,'We haven't had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine'
And still those voices are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say...
Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
They livin' it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise, bring your alibis
Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink champagne on ice
And she said 'We are all just prisoners here, of our own device'
And in the master's chambers,
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives,
But they just can't kill the beast
Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
'Relax,'said the night man,
We are programmed to receive.
You can checkout any time you like,
but you can never leave!
5 comentarios:
Mítica canción y mítica época.
Casi una meca para algunos...
A mi siguen gustando como el primer día.
Gracias, Cristal. Celebro que compartamos, también, gustos musicales.
Linda introducción para una canción inmensa, legendaria por los temas que toca, y ya leyenda ella misma. Si alguien quiere entretenerse, aquí le estuvimos dando vueltas hace ya algunos años.
Al, qué bueno tu comentario de junio de 2001, con tantas puertas abiertas (incluida el recurso a la autoridad de Dámaso Alonso, al que ya no puedo dejar de imaginárnelo, alcuza en mano, dilucidando el sentido último de "colitas" y completamente atrapado por su olor). El nuevo formato trajeado del último concierto de los "Águilas" añade un nuevo misterio a los de este polivalente alojamiento californiano: ¿y si todo se redujera a una fiesta de disfraces verbales, donde cada tópico se cubre las apariencias con una máscara que a su vez recuerda a...? Bueno, eso es (también) la literatura. Gracias por la memoria cibernáutica, tan oportuna.
Gracias, Alfredo (memorable damasazo, a fe mía). Sobre la canción se me ocurren otras cosas, más simplonas quizá. Que la canción, coherente con la tradición misógina del género, es básicamente un ajuste de cuentas con la dama, que prefirió la compañía de sus muchos amigos a la del cantor; que el Capitán podría ser García, el legendario Capitan Trips; que la desorientación del final sugiere un mal viaje de LSD (o al menos un viaje de final accidentado) y que todo el invento es un ejemplo insigne de españolada (o mexicanada), lo que no se nota tanto en la versión canónica pero da el cantazo en las más recientes, que insisten en remarcarlo con acierto discutible.
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