• Voto:
Mettiamo che uno sia triste, che sia anche di salute cagionevole, che la ragazza che gli piace non lo veda di striscio, che nessuno gli presti attenzione. Ecco, se la vita va così, c'è poco da fare, non si è certo tra i fortunati della società, in particolare quella americana. Ma prima o poi arriva qualcuno che prende coscienza di questa condizione, e fa un disco, a mio parere il disco più "sfigatamente" bello che io abbia mai sentito. Creep e i Nirvana ormai sono soluzioni facili, il punk ha perso la sua forza, Beck latita, gli anni '80 sono ancora in incubazione prima del loro ritorno. Così nasce Transatlanticism.
I Death Cab For Cutie, nell'ambiente si erano già fatti un nome con The Photo Album e la meravigliosa A Movie Script Ending, ma evidentemente non bastava. Diventare vere e proprie bandiere di quelli che nella società americana sono considerati gli Emoboy, quelli un po' sfigati, è missione assai ardua. Puoi dire loro di spaccare tutto, di combattere la società, oppure di chiuderti in te stesso e soffrire in silenzio. Puoi però anche dire loro, chissenefrega, tanto la tua vita la puoi vivere anche nell'illusione, e va bene così. Perché tu puoi immaginarti come la ragazza in realtà ti guardi, come il capitano di football sia un grassone di 40 anni che si ciba solo di Big Mac. Non è proprio così, ma dopo tutto a te va bene in questa maniera. Te ne andrai da quella squallida provincia, e diventerai un bravo ragazzo, ti farai rispettare. Ora goditi l'attimo, e non lasciartelo rovinare. L'amore è tuo, non è degli altri.
Ciò che potrebbe essere ma non è, ciò che solo tu vivi, e gli altri nemmeno immaginano.
Ecco cos'è questo disco, il tuo modo per fuggire dalla squallida vita di tutti i giorni. Ogni tanto riappare l'ombra della tristezza, ma c'è quel filo di speranza, di rinnovamento che non viene mai tagliato. Quell'attimo di luce che offusca tutto il resto.
Tra arpeggi mai così belli, campionamenti sottili e una voce soffice ti perdi, chiudi gli occhi e vivi la vita che vorresti. Quella fatta di sofferenze pedagogiche, e non fini a se stesse, quelle dove le tue storie infinite si concludono nel migliore dei modi, quella dove alla fine risorgi sempre. I suoni così curati e meravigliosi di questo album ti cullano, ti perdi tra ciò che resta dell'indie, perché questo disco indie non è, ma non è nemmeno tutto il resto.
Per molte persone Transatlanticism non significherà niente, sarà solo un ammasso di canzoni che non colpiscono, troppo mielose per giunta. Per te no, questo è l'album della tua vita forse, o quanto meno è l'album della vita che ti vuoi immaginare.
La tua piccola Via Crucis, c'è la lacrimuccia che scende, ma sempre con il sorriso. I Death Cab For Cutie li porterai sempre con te, e li riascolterai quando le cose andranno finalmente bene, perché tu lo sapevi: avevano ragione loro.
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 The New Year (04:06)
So this is the new year
and I don't feel any different
the clanking of crystal
explosions off in the distance
in the distance...
so this is the new year
and I have no resolution
it's self-assigned penance?
for problems with easy solutions
so everybody put your best suit or dress on
let's make believe that we are wealthy for just this once
lighting firecrackers off on the front lawn
as thirty dialogues bleed into one
I wish the world was flat like the old days
so I could travel just by folding the map
no more airplanes or speed-trains or freeways
there'd be no distance that could hold us back
so this is the new year
02 Lightness (03:30)
There's a tear in the fabric of your favorite dress and I'm sneaking glances
I'm looking for the patterns in static: they start to make sense the longer I'm at it
Ivory lines lead...
Your heart is a river that flows from your chest through every organ
And your brain is the dam and I am the fish who can't reach the core
Ivory lines lead...
Oh, instincts are misleading; You shouldn't think what you're feeling
They don't tell you what you know you should want
Ivory lines lead...
Oh instincts are misleading; You shouldn't think what you're feeling
They don't tell you what you know you should want
Ivory lines lead...
04 Expo '86 (04:11)
Sometimes I think this cycle never ends
We slide from top to bottom and we turn and climb again
And it seems by the time that I have figured what it's worth
The squeaking of our skin against the steel has gotten worse
But if I move my place in line I'll lose
And I have waited the anticipation's got me glued
I am waiting for something to go wrong
I am waiting for familiar resolve
Sometimes it seems that I don't have the skills to recollect
The twists and turns of plot that turned us from lovers to friends
I am thinking I should take that volume back up off the shelf
And crack its weary spine and read to help remind myself
But if I move, my place in line, I'll lose
And I have waited the anticipation's got me glued
I am waiting for something to go wrong
I am waiting for familiar resolve
I am waiting for another repeat,
Another diet fed by crippling defeat
And I am waiting for that sense of relief
I am waiting for you to flee the scene
As if you held in your hand the smoking gun
And on the floor laid the one you said you loved...
And it's strange - they're all basically the same
So I don't ask names anymore
Sometimes I think this cycle never ends
We slide from top to bottom and we turn and climb again
And it seems by the time that I have figured what its worth
The squeaking of our skin against the steel has gotten worse
05 The Sound of Settling (02:12)
I've got a hunger twisting my stomach into knots; that my tongue is tied off
My brain's repeating if you've got an impulse, LET IT OUT!
but they never make it past my mouth
(Bop Ba...) This is the sound of settling (Bop Ba, bop ba...)
(Bop Ba...) This is the sound of settling (Bop Ba, bop ba...)
Our youth is fleeting, old age is just around the bend and I can't wait to go gray
And I'll sit an wonder of every love that could have been
If I'd only thought of something charming to say
(Bop Ba...) This is the sound of settling (Bop Ba, bop ba...)
(Bop Ba...) This is the sound of settling (Bop Ba, bop ba...)
I've got a hunger twisting my stomach into knots
06 Tiny Vessels (04:21)
This is the moment that you know
That you told her that you loved her but you don't
You touched her skin and then you think
That she is beautiful, but she don't mean a thing to me.
Yeah she is beautiful, but she don't mean a thing to me
I spent two weeks in Silverlake, the California sun cascading down my face
There was a girl with light brown streaks,
And she was beautiful, but she didn't mean a thing to me
Yeah she was beautiful, but she didn't mean a thing to me
I wanted to believe in all the words that I was speaking as we moved together in the dark
And all the friends that I was telling all the playful misspellings and every bite I gave that left a mark
Then tiny vessels oozed into your neck and formed the bruises that you said you didn't want to fade
But they did and so did I that day
All I see are dark gray clouds in the distance moving closer with every hour
So when you'd ask, "Is something wrong?" (I'd say)
"You're damn right there is, but we can't talk about it now. No we can't talk about it now."
So one last touch and then you'll go and we'll pretend that it meant something so much more
But it was vile and it was cheap and you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me
Yeah, you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me.
Yeah, you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me.
07 Transatlanticism (07:55)
The Atlantic was born today, and I'll tell you how
The clouds above opened up and let it out
I was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere
When the water filled every hole
And thousands upon thousands made an ocean
Making islands where no islands should go (oh no...)
Most people were overjoyed; they took to their boats
I thought it less like a lake and more like a moat
The rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your
Door have been silenced for evermore
And the distance is quite simply much to far for me to row;
It seems farther than ever before (oh no...)
I need you so much closer...
So come on; come on...
08 Passenger Seat (03:41)
I roll the window down and then begin to breathe in
the darkest country road and the strong scent of evergreen
from the passenger seat as you are driving me home
Then looking upwards I strained my eyes and try to
tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
from the passenger seat as you are driving me home
Do they collide? I ask and you smile.
With my feet on the dash, the world doesn't matter.
When you feel embarrassed then I'll be your pride
When you need directions then I'll be the guide for all time
for all time...
10 We Looked Like Giants (05:32)
God bless the daylight, the sugary smell of springtime
remembering when you were mine in a still suburban town
When every Thursday, I'd brave those mountain passes
and you'd skip your early classes and we'd learn how our bodies worked
God damn the black night, with all its foul temptations
I've become what I always hated when I was with you then
We looked like giants in the back of my grey subcompact
fumbling to make contact as the others slept inside
and together there in a shroud of frost, the mountain air
began to pass through every pane of weathered glass
and I held you closer than anyone would ever get
Do you remember the J.A.M.C. and reading aloud from magazines
I don't know about you but I swear on my name they could smell it on me
But I've never been to good with secrets... ohh...
Oh together there in a shroud of frost, the mountain air
began to pass through every pane of weathered glass
and I held you closer...
Carico i commenti... con calma
