"Ian McDonald - Fat Tuesday" - читать интересную книгу автора (McDonald Ian)

throne. тАШLet the sambada decide. Yo! El Batador!тАЩ

Rhythm answers. Complex, sinuous, muscular, many-layered rhythm
that strikes into the heart and finds its resonant frequency. El Batador is
seated on an empty beer-crate drumming on an upturned plastic bucket,
lifting the rim and slapping it against the pounded clay of the sambadrome
with his boney feet in counterpoint.

Q: How many men does it take to fill a sambadrome with one plastic
bucket?

A: One, but he must be muy muy sambadero.

HeesusHos├йMaria, Annunciato has been waiting all his short life to
play with musicians of this calibre. This old black man, he makes the
massed batterias of all Birimbao Hill sound like kids kicking rhythms out of
the bus stops with disposable chopsticks. Annunciato picks up the beat:
Baile Mi Hermana, one of the standards, easy to play badly, hard to play
good. He will show this fat transvestite carnivalado. If they are gods, these
spirits in the computers, he will be worthy of them. He plays the theme high
and pure and holy and RosтАЩaтАЩJericho behind her deck comes in on a wave
of samples as he breaks into improvisations. And it lifts. It soars. It takes
off and heads from the Van Allen belts. It screams, high and holy and hot
hot hot and the caba├▒a bums and malandros are standing two four six
eight deep around the concrete-block walls mouths open eyes popping
what kinda merda this and Annunciato feels the thing in the guitar awaken
and open like a moonflower blooming and he looks inside and sees ...

тАШAi ai ai ai,тАЩ shouts La Baiana dancing on his throne. тАШEnough enough
enough enough. I believe you, I believe you.тАЩ And one of his body-boys
throws the master isolator and it all fails, it all falls, it all fades and comes
apart and Annunciato, soaked with sweat, feels like a crashed angel.

тАШHot dog, jumpinтАЩ frog,тАЩ says RosтАЩaтАЩJericho. тАШMuy guitarristo! Seu
Guantanamera!тАЩ She kisses him on the mouth. She tastes of pork, like white
women are supposed to.

****

CrackinтАЩ bottles, yabba yabba; long-necks from a tin bath full of ice up at La
BaianaтАЩs place, which is cool and airy and has ceiling fans which Annunciato
has only ever seen on tele-vision and lots of things in terracotta pots on the
patio and is built into the third тАШOтАЩ of the letters of the hill.

Bosque de los Acebos, that is what it means, RosтАЩaтАЩJericho tells
Annunciato, which means nothing at all to him.

тАШUsed to make movies here, way way long back before the Treaty of
Albuquerque,тАЩ says La Baiana, sweating like a pig developing little five
oтАЩclock shadow problemo vicinity upper lip. тАШLegend is, if you go down, way