Roberto da Silva Rocha, university professor and political scientist
Music for crossbreeding
We live the phase of the soundtrack of the music for crossing, for the mating of the species homo sapiens in Brazil.
Just us Brazilians who came out of the era of the music fad to squeeze in the toilet, hold the Tchan, dancing on top of the bottle's mouth, we did the coconut, pee, everything in the mouth of the bottle, and it was the scream for the beginning of the era and the oral phase, it was to enter the border or border of the double, triple kiss zone, it was to kiss and immediately leave in search of other distracted mouths, this was the sexual initiation in the post-late adolescence rite of passage of millions of paulistanos who, freed from the strict protocol of the formal Paulicéia of the offices of Avenida Paulista, without pantsuits, without suits, without high heels, and without social protocol four hundred years, the paulistada was freed from four centuries of education in the most expensive schools in Brazil, with uniforms gowns, class uniforms, party uniforms, and the impeccable graduation gown, finishing off the luxurious after-prom attire.
Now we are closing the phase of the post romance mode, where we celebrate with great pomp the frustrated loves, the failed romances, the betrayal, the amorous depression, everything that can be the other face of an idealized romance of the last century has become only the thematic lamentation of the failed loves, the theme of amorous melancholy explored from all angles, with a lot of drinking, many hours on social networks avenging the separation to show that now the line has moved on, everything goes on much better, despite the immense pain of separation, this the soundtrack that ends in the new millennium in Brasuca, and thus the sertanejo disputes with the Brazilian funk that takes revenge on years of toxic machismo and the vagina dominates the dance, women crouch to show their vagina and rub their vagina which is now the main choreography of funk, the boys just trim the pelvis of the girls almost kneeling to rub the boy the power of the vagina and make the surrender of the phalluses but under the conditions imposed by female testosterone.
Gone are the days of dances where the hips drew a half moon with small and vigorous movements just hinting at a distant sensuality, all very discreet with many complex chords with extremely elaborate melodies in many sound layers with dissonants already awaited by ears trained to a very sound sound. varied and colorful of novelties that seemed never to end every week, dozens of musicians working for whole months to detonate the halls with brand new choreographies that accompanied the novelties of counterpoint and fugue inspired by the classic chords of Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, Handel, Puccini, Barh many times. phrases plagiarized from classics like Tchaikovsky and sophisticated harmonies taken from Mozart's opus, it was the era of music cut in the halls of the big clubs, you couldn't be an artist without studying a lot of music theory, the disco era ended with the invention of the variant called disco techno, with repeated riffs on the electronic synthesizer rônico and electronic drums with the DJ and MC building the theme on a disco base, doing the live mixing and the drive on the needle of a very expensive record player always on top of a vinyl record.
And now what comes after this avalanche of sound disturbances and erotic innuendo; have we reached the limit? So fashion returns to the starting point as a spiral reinventing itself from the past and remaking everything as if it were new, after all, the new generation has never heard the past, and the past is the remake of those who think everything is new.
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