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Happy New Bomb (?)

29 Dic

***

“Hell Broke Luce”

I had a good home but I left
I had a good home but I left, right, left
That big fucking bomb made me deaf, deaf
A Humvee mechanic put his Kevlar on wrong
I guarantee you’ll meet up with a suicide bomb
Hell broke luce Hell broke luce
Big fucking ditches in the middle of the road
You pay a hundred dollars just for fillin’ in the hole
Listen to the general every goddamn word
How many ways can you polish up a turd
Left, right, left, left, right
Left, right
Hell broke luce Hell broke luce Hell broke luce
How is it that the only ones responsible for making this mess
Got their sorry asses stapled to a goddamn desk
Hell broke luce Hell broke luce
Left, right, left
What did you do before the war?
I was a chef, I was a chef
What was your name?
It was Geoff, Geoff
I lost my buddy and I wept, wept
I come down from the meth
So I slept, slept
I had a good home but I left, left
Pantsed at the wind for a joke
I pranced right in with the dope
Glanced at her shin she said nope
Left, right, left
Nimrod Bodfish have you any wool
Get me another body bag the body bag’s full
My face was scorched, scorched
I miss my home I miss my porch, porch
Left, right, left
Can I go home in March? March
My stanch was a chin full of soap
That rancid dinner with the pope
Left, right, left
Kelly Presutto got his thumbs blown off
Sergio’s developing a real bad cough
Sergio’s developing a real bad cough
Hell broke luce Hell broke luce Hell broke luce
Boom went his head away
And boom went Valerie
What the hell was it that the president said?
Give him a beautiful parade instead
Left, right, leftWhen I was over here I never got to vote
I left my arm in my coat
My mom she died and never wrote
We sat by the fire and ate a goat
Just before he died he had a toke
Now I’m home and I’m blind
And I’m broke
What is next?

TOM WAITS – KATHLEEN BRENNAN (ANTI – Records)

***

post scriptum

Questa canzone antimilitarista è probabilmente dedicata al soldato americano Jeff Lucey che si tolse la vita dopo che tornò in patria dall’Iraq . Il titolo è un gioco di parole costruito sull’idioma “all hell broke loose” , cioè “si è scatenato un putiferio” (scoperto dopo una estenuante ricerca, spero positiva – qualunque smentita è ben accetta).

Annunci

Portraits

1 Nov

Marlene Dumas – Pasolini

Sakamoto – forbidden colors

***

Nicholas Cristiakov – il ritratto nero

Terjie Rypdal – charisma

***

Andy Warhol -Ritratto di Jean Michel Basquiat

Thelonious Monk – round midnight

Agata

22 Ott

The Cure – the love cats

Elton John – Honky Cat

Fred Penner – the cat came back

photos by  ©Antonio Occulto

TOM WAITS

26 Set

1.

Lowdown

 

2.

the piano has been drinking

3.

I don’t wanna grow up

4.

Ol’ ’55

‘The Genius’ by Leonard Cohen

12 Gen

Il genio

Per te sarò un ebreo del ghetto
e ballerò
e mi infilerò calze bianche
sulle gambe deformi
e avvelenerò pozzi
in tutta la città

Per te
sarò un’ebreo apostata
e dirò al prete spagnolo
del giuramento di sangue
del Talmud
e dove sono nascoste
le ossa del bambino

Per te
sarò un ebreo banchiere
e manderò in rovina
un antico e borioso re cacciatore
e metterò fine alla sua stirpe

Per te
sarò un ebreo di Brodway
e piangerò nei teatri
invocando mia madre
e venderò beni d’occasione
sottobanco

Per te
sarò un ebreo medico
e cercherò in tutti i cassonetti
prepuzi
da ricucire

Per te
sarò un ebreo di Dachau
e giacerò nella calce
con gambe deformi
e un dolore così gonfio
che nessuna mente potrà comprendere

***

the genius

For you
I will be a ghetto jew
and dance
and put white stockings
on my twisted limbs
and poison wells
across the town

For you
I will be an apostate jew
and tell the Spanish priest
of the blood vow
in the Talmud
and where the bones
of the child are hid

For you
I will be a banker jew
and bring to ruin
a proud old hunting king
and end his line

For you
I will be a Broadway jew
and cry in theatres
for my mother
and sell bargain goods
beneath the counter

For you
I will be a doctor jew
and search
in all the garbage cans
for foreskins
to sew back again

For you
I will be a Dachau jew
and lie down in lime
with twisted limbs
and bloated pain
no mind can understand

Down By The Water

31 Ott


I lost my heart under the bridge
That little girl
So much to me
And now I moan, and now I holler
She’ll never know just what I found
That blue-eyed girl she said no more
And that blue-eyed girl became blue -eyed whore
Down by the water I took her hand
Just like my daughter
See her again
Oh, help me Jesus come through this storm
I had to lose her to do her harm
I heard her holler, I heard her moan
My lovely daughter
I took her home
Little fish, big fish, swimming in the water
Come back here, man, give me my daughter
Little fish, big fish, swimming in the water
Come back here, man, give me my daughter
(PJ Harvey)

Bad as me

27 Ott

You’re the head on the spear
You’re the nail on the cross
You’re the fly in my beer
You’re the key that got lost
You’re the letter from Jesus on the bathroom wall
You’re mother superior in only a bra
You’re the same kind of bad as me

I’m the hat on the bed
I’m the coffee instead
The fish or cut bait
I’m the detective up late
I’m the blood on the floor
The thunder and the roar
The boat that won’t sink
I just won’t sleep a wink
You’re the same kind of bad as me

No good you say
Well that’s good enough for me

You’re the wreath that caught fire
You’re the preach to the choir
You bite down on the sheet
But your teeth have been wired
You skid in the rain
You’re trying to shift
You’re grinding the gears
You’re trying to shift
And you’re the same kind of bad as me

They told me you were no good
I know you’ll take care of all my needs
You’re the same kind of bad as me

I’m the mattress in the back
I’m the old gunnysack
I’m the one with the gun
Most likely to run
I’m the car in the weeds
If you cut me I’ll bleed
You’re the same kind of bad as me
You’re the same kind of bad as me

[Tom Waits – il nuovo album: Bad as me]

La filosofia di Watkins il Vagabondo

2 Ott

Sono stato sgridato, sballottato, ostacolato, vilipeso, appeso, maciullato, sgarrato, schiacciato, ingannato, strizzato e derubato; tartassato da tasse di guerra, tasse sui profitti, tasse sulle vendite, tasse sui cani, dai tassi d’interesse e dalla sintassi, oppresso dalle obbligazioni del Tesoro, dai doveri filiali, dai vincoli matrimoniali, dalla Croce Rossa, dalla Croce Blu e da crociati fasulli di tutte le risme; mi sono ammazzato di lavoro, ho ammazzato gli altri di lavoro, mi sono ubriacato e ho ubriacato gli altri, ho perduto tutti i miei averi, e ora, per non aver voglia di prestare o dilapidare quel poco che guadagno o riesco a elemosinare, a farmi prestare e a rubare, vengo maledetto, incriminato, boicottato, rimproverato, chiacchierato, abbindolato, frainteso, calpestato, represso, rapinato e ridotto praticamente in rovina. C’è un unico e solo motivo per cui tiro avanti: sono proprio curioso di vedere

CHE COSA DIAVOLO SUCCEDERA’ ANCORA.

[Strade blu di William Least Heat-Moon]

[il testo originale del brano Death Letter Blues di Son House]

(a Walter o mio fratello)

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