Rufus Wainwright (22 de julio de 1973, Rhinebeck, Nueva York, EE. UU.) es un cantautor canadiense-estadounidense que compone e interpreta en inglés y también en francés.
Hijo de los cantantes de folk Loudon Wainwright III y Kate McGarrigle, y hermano de la también cantante Martha Wainwright. Empezó a tocar el piano con 6 años e hizo giras con su familia a los 13. Su música tiene unas marcadas influencias líricas que van desde la ópera hasta la canción francesa pasando por el musical.
¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
___________________________ / Rufus Wainwright / From his website: "When I first came up with / I Don't Know What It Is / the lines, "I don't know what it is, but you got / Want One / to do it / I don't know where to go, but you got /__________________________/ to be there" I was at this party for The Strokes in New York. There was this prevailing sense of, "We're not quite sure what's happening or what is cool, but we know that it's somewhere around here, in this room." It was this vague confusion, with everybody kind of sniffing for blood. It wasn't that it was a bad party, or that I don't like The Strokes; I just think there's a lot of confusion right now in the music business. Then, later on, I realized the song was really personal. I didn't know where I was, and I didn't know I was actually lost. It wasn't about the party at all; it's about searching but not knowing what you're searching for. There's the train motif, being on this train heading for either oblivion or salvation – and just holding on for dear life. That song came down from some mountain somewhere, because it was right after I wrote it that I sort of packed it in."
LYRICS ********** I don't know what it is But you got to do it I don't know where to go But you got to be there I don't know where to fall But I know that it's comfortable where... I don't know where it is
Putting all of my time in learning to care And a bucket of rhymes I threw up somewhere Want a locket of who made me lose my perfunctory view Of all that is around And of all that I do
So I knock on the door Take a step that is new Never been here before Is there anyone else here too?
In love with beauty Playing all of the games Who thinks three's company Is there anyone else who wears slightly mysterious bruises? I don't know what it is
Take a looking around at friendly faces All declaring a war on far off places Is there anyone else who is through with complaining about what's done unto us
So I knock on the door And I am on the train Going god knows where to To get me over To get me over
Give me heaven or hell, Calais or Dover
I was hoping the train was my big number Stopping in Santa Fe and the Atchison-Topeka Though I'm chugging along, put away by the crossing hand We'll be heading for Portland or Limbo or Lower Manhattan Find myself running around
I don't know what it is so get me over I don't know what it is so get me over I don't know what it is so get me over To get me over You gotta do it You gotta be there
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