我们在黄记煌吃着焖锅，听到店里在放张杰翻唱的《夜空中最亮的星》。我觉得很难听，如同华晨宇翻唱的《山海》一样，完全换了风格，改编得乱七八糟。
我问能不能放过我喜欢的这些摇滚乐？我喜爱的摇滚之所以打动人，是因为歌手纯粹的嗓音，歌曲表达出的真挚的情感，而真人秀里流行歌手的翻唱，只有炫技的唱腔，华丽的编曲，甚至生拼硬凑的rap。脱离了摇滚核心的纯粹，这样的改编直叫人发笑。
我们谈到某自杀的天才摇滚歌手，谈到梵高，谈到因《我不是药神》备受关注的黄毛章宇，主演的电影《大象席地而坐》的导演胡波，也在获柏林电影节奖前四个月自杀了。
天才总是孤寂，总是英年早逝，他们的不妥协造成了他们与世界格格不入，不被主流所接纳，当恒星陨落之后，人们却又大肆赞扬他们不妥协，惋惜他们的早逝是艺术的一大损失。但人们只能惋惜，他们并没有所作为，假如潦倒的天才在生前得到重视，他讨好着大众同时享受着荣耀，脱离了苦海，又如何能作出震撼人心的作品呢。天才之死是人们一手造就的，天才也只能在死后才能变成一颗举世瞩目耀眼的恒星。
美国民谣歌手Don McLea为纪念伟文森特.梵高所做的歌曲《Vincent》，灵感来源于其画作《Starry night》，它的歌词是这样写的：
Starry starry night //星光 星光闪耀的夜晚
paint your palette blue and grey //让调色板描绘出你深深地忧郁和晦暗
look out on a summer's day //让那双洞察我灵魂深处的眼睛
with eyes that know the darkness in my soul //面朝着夏日的白昼
Shadows on the hills //在这如雪般的画布上
sketch the trees and the daffodils //勾勒出丘陵的投影
catch the breeze and the winter chills //描绘那树丛和水仙花
in colors on the snowy linen land //捕捉微风和冬季的寒意
And now I understand //而此刻我才懂得
what you tried to say to me //你想对我诉说的那些故事
and how you suffered for your sanity //你因深深的思索而承受着苦闷
and how you tried to set them free //你因赋予思想自由而所做的一切
They would not listen //可是，那些人不会听到
they did not know how // 因为他们无法体会
perhaps they'll listen now //又或许 他们现在才知道
Starry starry night //星光 星光闪耀的夜晚
flaming flowers that brightly blaze //那些如烈焰般绽放的花儿
swirling clouds in violet haze //那些在紫罗兰的薄雾中旋转的云朵
reflect in Vincent's eyes of China blue //都在文森特瓷器一样湛蓝的眸子里
Colors changing hue //变幻着色彩
morning fields of amber grain //清晨琥珀色的原野
weathered faces lined in pain //风化了的脸孔镌刻着的痛楚
are smoothed beneath the artist's loving hand.//画家用深情手去抚慰那些忧伤
And now I understand //而此刻我才懂得
what you tried to say to me //你想对我诉说的那些故事
and how you suffered for your sanity //你因深深的思索而承受着苦闷
and how you tried to set them free //你因赋予思想自由而所做的一切
They would not listen //可是，那些人不会听到
they did not know how // 因为他们无法体会
perhaps they'll listen now //又或许 他们现在才知道
For they could not love you //尽管他们并不爱你
but still your love was true //可你的爱却是如此真实
and when no hope was left in sight on that //在那个只有绝望的星夜
starry starry night. //你带走了自己的生命
You took your life as lovers often do //就像殉情的爱人一样
But I could have told you Vincent //然而 我必须告诉你真相 文森特
this world was never meant for one //这世界上不会再有什么
as beautiful as you//如你一般的美好
Starry starry night //星光，星光闪耀的夜
portraits hung in empty halls //那些肖像悬挂在空寂的大厅里
frameless heads //一幅幅没有画框的头像
on nameless walls //在一面面不知名的墙壁上
with eyes that watch the world //用他们那令人难忘的眼睛
and can't forget//注视着这个世界
Like the stranger that you've met //就像你曾遭遇到的陌生人
the ragged men in ragged clothes //邋遢男人们穿着褴褛的衣衫
the silver thorn of bloddy rose //就像是躺在圣洁的雪地里的
lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.// 血红的玫瑰中银白的荆刺
And now I think I know //而此刻我才懂得
what you tried to say to me //你想对我诉说的那些故事
and how you suffered for your sanity //你因深深的思索而承受着苦闷
and how you tried to set them free. //你因赋予思想自由而所做的一切
They would not listen //可是，那些人不会听到
they're not listening still //他们依旧不会听到
perhaps they never will//又或许 他们永远不会知道
