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Go and tell Lord Grenville that the tide is on the turn/ It's time to haul the anchor up and leave the land astern/ We'll be gone before the dawn returns/ Like voices on the wind.
Bastano un pugno di versi dell'opening track di questo album per ritrovarsi catapultati nell'universo musicale di Al Stewart, un universo che si esprime attraverso testi raffinati, metaforici, a volte anche un po' prolissi, che trovano le loro radici nei grandi poeti cantori degli anni '60 (Bob Dylan in primis). Un universo musicale che nasce dal folk rock anglosassone e caratterizzato da linee melodiche sostanzialmente semplici, ma non per questo banali. Un universo fatto di Storia oltre che di storie (si parlò addirittura di "historical folk rock" riferendosi alla musica del cantautore-chitarrista scozzese), popolato di personaggi più o meno famosi a cui fanno da sfondo grandi eventi storici come la rivoluzione francese, la guerra civile spagnola o l'invasione tedesca dell'unione sovietica. E Lord Grenville è uno di questi personaggi, un comandante della marina inglese del XVI secolo, intrappolato dalla flotta spagnola e ucciso dopo un lungo combattimento, figura emblematica di tanti soldati alla vigilia di battaglie senza speranza, dalle quali sanno che non ci sarà possibilità di ritorno.
L'album "Year Of The Cat" inizia a prendere forma nel 1975 (l'anno del gatto nell'astrologia vietnamita) a due anni di distanza da Past, Present and Future che aveva avuto un inaspettato, sia pur limitato, successo negli USA e in corrispondenza del passaggio di Stewart dalla CBS alla RCA. C'era sicuramente la voglia di "fare il botto" con questo album, se si considera che alla produzione troviamo Alan Parsons (insieme a Stuart Elliot alla batteria e Phil Kenzie al sax, che lo accompagneranno in seguito nei dischi del suo Project), per la registrazione si scelgono i mitici Abbey Road Studios di Londra e per la copertina del disco ci si affida alla celebre agenzia artistica Hipgnosis (quella, per intenderci, delle copertine di quasi tutti gli album dei Pink Floyd).
Rispetto ai lavori precedenti non stupisce quindi una maggiore attenzione all'immediatezza, con soluzioni musicali che ammiccano al pop (pur senza concedergli troppo, come nel successivo "Time Passages"), ma mantenendo comunque alta la liricità dei testi. Oltre alla già citata "Lord Grenville", meritano senz'altro una menzione (e un ascolto) particolare: la trascinante "On The Border", con pregevoli inserti di chitarra spagnola e un'introduzione in cui piano, tastiere, archi, basso e nacchere creano un ingranaggio musicale che si muove con la perfezione di un orologio svizzero; la livida "Midas Shadow", riedizione in chiave moderna della maledizione inflitta al mitico re greco, malinconico affresco del culto del successo e del denaro, fatto di valige di una notte, asettiche camere d'albergo e poltrone d'aereo trasformate in uffici itineranti; l'ariosa "Flying Sorcery", leggera e spensierata, dedicata ad Amy Johnson, la prima donna a realizzare in solitaria la trasvolata dall'Inghilterra all'Australia; la misteriosa "Broadway Hotel", in cui sul tema ossessivamente ripetuto del cantato si inseguono e si intrecciano mirabilmente le divagazioni di violino e mandolino;
On a morning from a Bogart movie/ in a country where they turn back time/ you go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre/ contemplating a crime
Canzoni pregevoli, in linea con la sua produzione precedente, ma per fare il botto occorreva qualcosa di più e di diverso e Al Stewart lavorò a lungo su quella che sarebbe diventata la title-track del disco. Inizialmente il brano avrebbe dovuto chiamarsi "At The Foot Of The Stage" e narrare il tragico declino dell'attore comico Tony Hancock, ma non è difficile immaginare che una vecchia volpe come Parsons abbia avuto parecchio da obiettare in proposito… Fu così che iniziò il lungo e faticoso parto, durato una decina di mesi, del singolo Year Of The Cat: si scelse così già dalle prime strofe un'ambientazione più ammiccante (i riferimenti a Bogart e Lorre rimandano evidentemente al film Casablanca), qualche vago riferimento all'oriente (l'anno del gatto, appunto, ma anche la misteriosa figura femminile che corre avvolta in un "abito di seta simile ad un acquerello nella pioggia") fino ad echi odorosi della cultura hippy (l'incenso e l'essenza di patchouli). Pare anche certo che Parsons abbia fortemente voluto l'inserimento del sax di Phil Kenzie nella sezione centrale, una sorta di assolo a staffetta, che si articola come un meccanismo perfettamente oliato, in cui si alternano sulla scena la chitarra acustica, quella elettrica e infine appunto il sax.
La melodia lenta e accattivante, nonché l'ambientazione esotica che fa da sfondo alla storia romantica tra un turista e una fascinosa ragazza locale, fecero di questo brano una tra le più note canzoni d'amore della storia musicale. Vorrei tuttavia far notare una curiosità una specie di piccola incongruenza, non saprei quanto voluta dall'autore (forse per "vendicarsi" di quella bocciatura dell'idea iniziale?): la strofa su "Peter Lorre contemplating a crime" evoca in effetti ai cinefili più smaliziati l'indimenticabile "M - Il Mostro Di Dusseldorf" di Fritz Lang e lo sguardo di Lorre in quel film evoca tutt'altro che facile romanticismo, gettando una luce ben diversa e assai più tetra sulla presunta "storia d'amore"… Comunque, al di là dei possibili significati nascosti, la pubblicazione nel 1976 vide un successo clamoroso del singolo e, a traino, dell'intero album, che nel corso degli anni vendette oltre un milione di copie.
In conclusione, un album particolare, da ascoltare ma anche da leggere (e possibilmente con un buon dizionario a portata di mano), che a quelli della mia generazione non mancherà di evocare ricordi lontani (e non soltanto musicali!). Forse il miglior compromesso che questo moderno trovatore sia riuscito ad esprimere tra musica e parole.
Elenco tracce testi samples e video
01 Lord Grenville (05:02)
Go and tell Lord Grenville that the tide is on the turn
It's time to haul the anchor up and leave the land astern
We'll be gone before the dawn returns
Like voices on the wind.
Go and tell Lord Grenville that our dreams have run aground
There's nothing here to keep us in this shanty town
None of us are caring where we're bound
Like voices on the wind
And come the day you'll hear them saying
"They're throwing it all away"
Nothing more to say
Just throwing it all away
Go and fetch the captain's log and tear the pages out
We're on our way to nowhere now, can't bring the helm about
None of us are left in any doubt
We won't be back again
Send a message to the fleet, they'll search for us in vain
We won't be there among the reaches of the Spanish Main
Tell the ones we left home not to wait
We won't be back again.
(Won't be back again...)
And come the day you'll hear them saying
"They're throwing it all away"
Nothing more to say
Just throwing it all away
Our time is just a point along a line
That runs forever with no end
I never thought that we would come to find
Ourselves upon these rocks again
Oh no...
Go and tell Lord Grenville that the tide is on the turn
02 On the Border (03:20)
The fishing boats go out across the evening water
Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
The wind whips up the waves so loud
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
Turns the rifles into silver on the border
On my wall the colours of the maps are running
From Africa the winds they talk of changes coming
The torches flare up in the night
The hand that sets the farms alight
Has spread the word to those who're waiting on the border
In the village where I grew up
Nothing seems the same
Still you never see the change from day to day
And no-one notices the customs slip away
Late last night the rain was knocking at my window
I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow
I thought I saw down in the street
The spirit of the century
Telling us that we're all standing on the border
In the islands where I grew up
Nothing seems the same
It's just the patterns that remain
An empty shell
But there's a strangeness in the air you feel too well
The fishing boats go out across the evening water
Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
The wind whips up the waves so loud
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
Turns the rifles into silver on the border
On the border
On the border
On the border
03 Midas Shadow (03:10)
You got your ticket and your hotel keys
And your overnight bag at your feet
You're looking down on the tropical trees
While the Spanish maids pick up the sheets
Conquistador in search of gold
For all the jackdaw reasons
The Midas shadow that's so hard to please
And follows wherever you go
Nothing ventured, nothing gained they said
So you played for the winner takes all
And tossed the dice high up and craned your head
To see how the numbers would fall
You stole the game so easily
Your luck ran with the seasons
But still the shadow that the night won't free
Just follows wherever you go
Another day, another boarding card
As you wait for your seat on the 'plane
The movie runs but you're still working hard
And you don't touch your food or champagne
I know that when your well runs dry
You'll want to know the reason
The empty night will bring you no reply
As it follows wherever you go
04 Sand in Your Shoes (03:03)
You always were a city kid
Though you were country raised
And back in some forgotten time
We shared the cold north days
But the simple life was not your style,
And you just had to escape
So it's goodbye to my lady of the islands
On Remembrance Day the bands all played,
The bells pealed through the park
And you lay there by the "Do Not" signs,
And shamed them with your spark
Now winter moans in old men's bones
As the day falls into dark
And it's goodbye to my lady of the islands
It was just like this
Behind the kisses you so soon swept away
Oh I always knew
That some day you'd
Be bound to just get pulled away
The summer sun beats on and on,
The shops swim in the heat
And you're standing by the traffic signs
With taxis at your feet
Oh I know that in your city skin
You're feeling more complete
So it's goodbye to my lady of the islands
No I never got the letters
That you said you'd send me
So it's goodbye to my lady of the islands
05 If It Doesn't Come Naturally, Leave It (04:29)
Nothing that's forced can ever be right
If it doesn't come naturally, leave it
That's what she said as she turned out the light
And we bent our backs as slaves of the night
Then she lowered her guard and showed me the scars
She got from trying to fight
Saying oh, you'd better believe it.
Well I'm up to my neck in the crumbling wreckage
Of all that I wanted from life
When I looked for respect all I got was neglect
Though I swallowed the line as a sign of the times
But dealing a jack from the back of the pack
They said-"You lose again"
Oh, I said, who needs it?
Well don't get me wrong now I tried to get on
With the jokers that got in my way
And I put on a smile and I tried all the while to be straight
But they just wanted more all the time and I'm sure
That you know what I mean when I say
That I'm sick of the touch and there's only so much you can take.
Well nothing that's real is ever for free
And you just have to pay for it sometime
She said it before, she said it to me
I suppose she believed there was nothing to see
But the same old four imaginary walls
She built for living inside
I said oh, you just can't mean it
Well there was never a doubt that she had to get out
she was just looking around for a way
In the pit of the night there was nowhere to hide any more
She was out on a limb, she was reaching for things
That she wanted, but just couldn't say
And she had to be sure that she wouldn't get caught like before.
Well nothing that's forced can ever be right
If it doesn't come naturally, leave it
That's what she said as she turned out the light
And she may have been wrong, and she may have been right
But I woke with the frost, and noticed she'd lost
The veil that covered her eyes
I said oh, you can leave it.
06 Flying Sorcery (04:22)
With your photographs of Kitty Hawk
And the biplanes on your wall
You were always Amy Johnson
From the time that you were small.
No schoolroom kept you grounded
While your thoughts could get away
You were taking off in Tiger Moths
Your wings against the brush-strokes of the day
Are you there?
On the tarmac with the winter in your hair
By the empty hangar doors you stop and stare
Leave the oil-drums behind you, they won't care
Oh, are you there?
Oh, you wrapped me up in a leather coat
And you took me for a ride
We were drifting with the tail-wind
When the runway came in sight
The clouds came up to gather us
And the cockpit turned to white
When I looked the sky was empty
I suppose you never saw the landing-lights
Are you there?
In your jacket with the grease-stain and the tear
Caught up in the slipstream of the dare
The compass rose will guide you anywhere,
Oh, are you there?
The sun comes up on Icarus as the night-birds sail away
And lights the maps and diagrams
That Leonardo makes
You can see Faith, Hope and Charity
As they bank above the fields
You can join the flying circus
You can touch the morning air against your wheels
Are you there?
Do you have a thought for me that you can share?
Oh I never thought you'd take me unawares
Just call me if you ever need repairs
Oh, are you there?
07 Broadway Hotel (03:56)
You told the man in the Broadway Hotel
Nothing was stranger than being yourself
And he replied, with a tear in his eye
Love was a rollaway
Just a cajole away
Mist on a summer's day
Nothing was clear
Love was a smile away
Just a defile away
I sought it every way
No-one came near
You asked the man for a room with a view
Nothing was said as he stared at his shoe
Then he replied as he gave you the key
Love was a rollaway
Just an unfold away
That's all there is to say
No-one came near
Alone in your room you hide
As the night rolls by
In the street outside
And you feel over the words he said
Till they turn to rain all around your head
You're seeking a hideaway
Where the light of day
Doesn't touch your face
And a door-sign keeps the world away
Behind the shades
Of your silent day.
You made your home in the Broadway Hotel
Room service came at the push of a bell
And the man said as he put down the tray
Love was a stealaway
Just a reveal away
I tried to find a way
Nothing was clear
Then as he turned away
You asked the man to stay
He was there all the day
No-one came near
09 Year of the Cat (06:37)
On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolour in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat
She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers
And you follow 'till your sense of which direction
Completely disappears
By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
There's a hidden door she leads you to
These days, she says, I feel my life
Just like a river running through
The year of the cat
Well, she looks at you so cooly
And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli
So you take her, to find what's waiting inside
The year of the cat
Well, morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you've thrown away your choice and lost your ticket
So you have to stay on
But the drum-beat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the new-born day
You know sometimes you're bound to leave her
But for now you're going to stay
In the year of the cat
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Altre recensioni
Di Danny The Kid
"Un irreplicabile capolavoro di arrangiamento? Una tra le più belle pop songs mai scritte?"
"Al Stewart è più profondo di Donovan, più accattivante di Bob Dylan e dotato di un gusto melodico sopraffino che Bruce Springsteen può solo sognare."
