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Oggi volevo fare la recensione di uno dei gruppi più intransigenti del punk in generale che si schierarono contro gruppi più importanti dell'epoca come Sex Pistols e Clash che il cantante dei Crass definì burattini e promotori del music business che portò a fondare la loro casa discografica, la Crass Records per produrre i propri album. I Crass col loro nichilismo daranno le basi al crust punk e ai pesi massimi deldel grindcore Napalm Death che con la canzone "Crucifix of Possessions" tratta dalla loro demo del 1983 Kak contribuirono proprio alla compilation del 1984 della Crass Records Bullshit Detector Volume 3. Inoltre i Crass si esibirono nella loro breve carriera al centro sociale Virus di Milano e in altri centri sociali d'Europa sempre con la bandiera dell'Anarchia esposta a affermare la lontananza da qualunque ingiustizia e dal music business... I Crass quindi diventarono uno dei più importanti gruppi hardcore punk / anarcho punk dei primi anni '80.
Ora passo a recensire l'album che è composto da ben due cd, il primo cd è intermamente in studio ed è stato registrato tra il luglio 1981 e il febbraio 1982 ai Southern Studios di Londra, è composto da quindici canzoni. Il secondo cd è live ed è stato registrato al 100 Club di Londra il 9 giugno 1981, qui ci sono adirittura venticinque canzoni, che riprendono il massacro cominciato nel primo cd. Tutti e due cd raggiungono la durata di ben 95 minuti, che sono quasi un record per un disco punk.
Le caratteristiche principali che qusi tutte le canzoni incominciano con spezzoni di programmi televisivi, telegiornali e da qui incominciano le critiche al sistema in ogni sua parte o hanno testi demenziali o blasfemi che causarono non pochi problemi al gruppo. Tutte le canzoni sono proiettili che prendono improvvisamante velocità raggiungendo a volte limiti con la cacofonia o direi quasi col grindcore...
Penso che i gruppi come i Crass che con loro idee si scagliavano contro tutto e tutti non guardando in faccia in nessuno ma andando sempre avanti per le loro idee se ne trovano ben pochi. Quanto sarebbe meglio il mondo senza music business e altre ingiustizie varie....
Un saluto a tutti... prossima rece sarà meglio.... ve lo prometto....
''WE ARE CRASS NOT CLASH''
LINEUP:
STEVE IGNORANT - voce
JOY DE VIVRE - voce
PEEVE LIBIDO - voce
PHIL FREE - chitarra solista
SRI HARI NANA B.A - sitar
SYBIL RIGHT - basso
ELVIS RIMBAUD - batteria
G. SUS - nastri
PS: Oggi ci sono ragazzini che considerano alternativi perché ascoltano Tokio Hotel, Vasco, Ligabue, Finley, Green Day e altra spazzatura varia... questa mia recensione è un invito ad aprire gli occhi e guadare oltre questi pseudocantanti/pseudogruppi da MTV... la musica vera non è questa....
Elenco tracce testi e video
03 Nineteen Eighty Bore (04:09)
who needs lobotomy when they?ve got the ITV?
who needs ECT when there?s good old BBC?
switch on the set, light up the screen
fantasise and dream about what you might have been
who needs controlling when they?ve got the cathode ray?
they?ve got your fucking soul, now they?ll fuse your brains away
mindless fucking morons sit before the set
being fed the mindless rubbish that they deserve to get
can?t switch off big brother, they?ve lost all will to act
lost in drab confusion, was it fiction? was it fact?
another plastic bullet stuns another irish child
but no-one?s really bothered, no the telly keeps them mild
they?ve lost all sense of feeling to the ever hungry glow
drained of any substance by the vicious telly blow
no longer know what?s real or ain?t, slowly going blind
they stare into the goggle-box while the world goes by, behind
the angels are on tv tonight, grey puke fucking shit
the army occupy ireland, but the boot will never fit
was it coronation street? or was it londonderry?
oh it doesn?t fucking matter, paul daniels?ll keep us merry.
yes i?ve heard of bobby sands, wasn?t it emmerdale farm?
yes, that?s right, he was kicked by a cow, i hope it didn?t do him no harm
and wasn?t holocaust terrible, a good thing it wasn?t for real
of course i?ve heard of h-block, it?s the baccy man appeal
deeper and deeper and deeper, layer upon layer
illusion, confusion, is there anyone left who can care?
yes, the abbey national cares for you. nat west and securicor
well brings out the branston bren-guns, let?s spice it up some more
the sweeney are cruising brixton, they?ve created another belfast
and j.r.?s advising thatcher on lighting, make up and cast
a thousand camera lenses point at the people?s pain
as millions of fucking morons watch the action replay again
softly, softly, into your life, you?re held in it?s brilliant glow
softly, softly, feeding itself on the you you?ll never know
you?re life?s reduced to nothing, but an empty media game
big brother ain?t watching you mate, you?re fucking watching him.
13 Bumhooler (03:19)
chorus: if they drop a bomb on us, we fucking deserve it
we know we got it coming, we fucking deserve it
they got a comfy set up, they?ll try and preserve it
we had the early warning, we can sit and observe it.
sliding down guidelines, cradle to the grave
all the willing saviours see that we behave
everybody knows they?re there, see them all around
lots of little people who?ll put you in the ground
well, take a burning issue and stuff it up your arse
they?ve fucked you with a furrowed brow, shitting broken class
marching down the ?dilly to demonstrate again
while the men who plan the holocaust are pissed out of their brains
brain of pasty people, who?ll bomb it all to fuck
you can be a victim or they?ll let you try your luck
pass it on to others, ship it down the line
leave your world in ruins, you know we?ve got the time
chorus
cop-outs for motives...freudian analyst,
come on mr. horror, what do you make of this?
wont? find many people without their rationale
any handy concept to hang upon the wall
soldier got his enemy
police have got the state
family have got home sweet home
SS got red tape
MP?s got his duty
priest has got his sin
everybody finds a hole
to drop somebody in
seeking out wisdom in the ironies of life
weighing up subtleties, fiddling with the ties
no-one else decides for you, whether to or not
you make an easy target if you?re running on the spot
chorus
someone?s been training, flexing their muscles
getting in practice, irrelevant tussles
given a march, or a quiet sunday demo
they wait till the state puts the finger on you
peeping through a frown, your humanity in rags
playing the loser till the sense of purpose sags
they can deal with heroes, watch the bleeders run
it?s only your head keeps the target from the gun
no-one else decides for you, whether to or not
you make an easy target if you?re running on the spot...
15 Major General Despair (04:34)
We're looking for a better world, but what do we see?
Just hatred, poverty, aggression, misery.
So much money spent on war
When three quarters of the world is so helplessly poor.
Major General Despair sits at his desk,
Planning a new mode of attack,
He's quite unconcerned about chance or risk,
The Major General's a hard nut to crack.
Oh yes, he designs a cruise missile,
Tactically sound, operationally O.K.,
While the starving crawl onto the deathpile,
They can't avoid their fate another day.
Attack on the mind, but he calls it defence,
But I ask you again who's it for?
Do the starving millions who don't stand a chance
Hope to benefit by his stupid war?
Babies crippled with hunger before they could walk,
Mothers with dry breasts cry dry tears,
And meanwhile Major General Despair gives a talk
On increasing the war budget over the years.
How can they do it, these men of steel,
How can they plot destruction, pain?
Is it the only way thatthey can feel,
By killing again and again?
Is it some part of themselves that has died
That permits them to plan as they do?
Or is it us that is dead, do we simply hide
From the responsibility to stop what they do?
There's so many of us, yet we let them have their way,
At this moment they're plotting and planning.
We've got to rise up to take their power away,
To save the world that they're ruining.
They're destroying the world with their maggot-filled heads,
Death, pain and mutilation,
They've got the responsibility of millions of dead.
Yet they're still bent on destruction.
The generals and politicians who advocate war should be made to wade in the truth of it,
They should spend sleepless nights shivering with fear and by day time should crawl in the deathpit.
They'll find the truth of what they've done there,
Festering corpses they and their kind made,
Eyeless skulls that endlessly stare
Having seen the truth of military trade.
The earth was our home, the wind and the air,
The blue sky, the grass and the trees,
But these masters of war, what do they care?
Only sentiments, these.
It's our world but through violence they took it away,
Took dignity, happiness, pride.
They took all the colours and changed them to grey
With the bodies of millions that died.
They destroy real meaning through their stupid games,
Make life a trial of fear.
They destroy what values we have with their aims,
Make us feel it's wrong if we care.
Well, we do care, it's our home, they've been at it too long,
If it's a fight they want, it's beginning.
Throughout history, we've been expected to sing their tired song
But now it's our turn to lead the singing...
Fight war, not wars,
Make peace, not war.
Fight war, not wars,
We know you've heard it before.
Fight war, not wars,
Make peace, not war.
Fight war, not wars,
Make peace, not war.
Fight war, not wars,
Make love, not war.
Fight war, not wars,
Make love, not war.
1 - 2 - 3 - 4
We don't want your fucking war.
1 - 2 - 3 - 4
We don't want your fucking war.
1 - 2 - 3 - 4
We don't want your fucking war.
Carico i commenti... con calma
