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"Benvenuti nel mondo dei Dire Straits", infatti questo tradotto opportunamente sarebbe potuto essere il titolo del primo omonimo lavoro della band di Mark Knopfler. Un disco che sebbene all'inizio abbia avuto delle difficoltà a farsi strada nelle classifiche dell'epoca (consideriamo che nel'78 il punk di Clash, Sex Pistols e simili la faceva da padrone), successivamente ha fatto superare al disco le dieci milioni di copie.
Un disco registrato nel giro di un paio di settimane sotto l'attenta regia di Muff Winwood (fratello di quell'altro grande, Steve!), che mette in mostra nove brani, nei quali a venirne fuori è la gigantesca classe e semplicità dei quattro musicisti, che in seguito difficilmente ritroveremo ascoltando i lavori successivi.
Un brano di apertura come "Down ToThe Waterline", dove una certa tradizione country americana fa capolino insieme a quella cantautorale vena rock che knopleriana, impostata su una ritmica 4/4, che ti sprona a battere il piede per tutti i quasi 4 minuti della sua durata. "Water Of Love" più semplice e forse meno trascinante mette in evidenza ancor di più il ruolo decisivo del (l'allora) giovane Mark che si slancia in quei continui assoli che inframezzano le strofe, e che diverranno il vero trademark(!) del sound del gruppo."Setting Me Up", è la giusta congiuntura tra country e blues che ritroveremo anche più avanti in "Southbound Again"(che chiude il disco), che non può non accendere in chi ascolta la voglia di mimare quell'elettricità che fuoriesce dalle casse.
Un disco che di per sè si divide tra brani ben ritmati come "Lions" (forse autocelebrativo?) e composizioni più malinconiche come "Wild West End", e nonostante ciò riesce a dare una l'immagine di un gruppo fortemente energico che di li a poco riempirà arene e teatri con la sola forza della musica.
Parlare di forza della musica e non parlare di "Sultans Of Swing" sarebbe un vero peccato. Troppo facile aprire la recensione parlando di questa track che sul vinile andava ad aprile il lato b, perciò tutto quello che mi limiterò a dire è che questo è il brano che in una sera del 31 luglio 1977 fu passato dal dj Charlie Gillett (a cui il disco è dedicato) e che fece infuocare le linee telefoniche della sua radio facendo si che la domanda che gli veniva posta con più frequenza fosse: "Ma chi è quel gruppo che suona quel brano che fà ta ta-ta ta...?"
Una canzone che diverrà la vera bandiera della band (senza nulla togliere ai classici che verranno) essendo da più di 15 anni un brano compare su tutte le raccolte dedicate ai migliori assoli di chitarra del rock. Provare per credere.
Elenco tracce testi e samples
01 Down to the Waterline (04:02)
Sweet surrender on the quayside
You remember we used to run and hide
In the shadow of the cargoes I take you one time
And we're counting all the numbers down to the waterline
Near misses on the dogleap stairways
French kisses in the darkened doorways
A foghorn blowing out wild and cold
A policeman shines a light upon my shoulder
Up comes a coaster fast and silent in the night
Over my shoulder all you can see are the pilot lights
No money in our jackets and our jeans are torn
Your hands are cold but your lips are warm
She can see him on the jetty where they used to go
She can feel him in the places where the sailors go
When she's walking by the river and the railway line
She can still hear him whisper
Let's go down to the waterline
03 Setting Me Up (03:19)
you say i'm the greatest bound for glory
well the word is out and i learned
i got the latest side of the story
you're pulling out before you get burned
well your hands are squeezing me down to the bone
i never saw you breaking no law
stands to reason i've got to leave you alone
what you taking me for
you're setting me up to put me down
you're just making me out to be your clown
you're just setting me up to put me down
you better give it up
quit your messing around
you think i care about your reaction
you think i don't understand
all you wanted was a piece of the action
now you talk about another man
04 Six Blade Knife (04:13)
your six blade knife do anything for you
anything you want it to
one blade is for breaking my heart
one blade for tearing me apart
your six blade knife - do anything for you
you can take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
when you come up from behind and lay it down cold on my skin
took a stone from my soul when i was lame
just so you could make me tame
you take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
i wanna be free of that thing - i don't want it no more
i wanna be free of it now - you know i don't want it no more
everybody got a knife it can be just what they want it to be
a needle a wife or something that you just can't see
you know it keeps you strong
yes and it'll do me wrong
your six blade knife - do anything for you
05 Southbound Again (02:59)
Southbound again I don't know if I'm going or leaving home
Boy got to be moving
Seems like the boy is bound to roam
Southbound again got no money I've got no place to go
That woman's with her lover boy
Never want to see her face no more
Every single time I roll across the rolling River Tyne
I get the same old feeling
Every time I'm moving down the line
Soutbound again last night I felt like crying
Right now I'm sick of living
But I'm going to keep on trying
06 Sultans of Swing (05:48)
You get a shiver in the dark
It's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
Mind he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
When he gets up under the lights to play his thing
And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's doing alright
He can play the honky tonk like anything
Saving it up for Friday night
With the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
Then a crowd of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing
07 In the Gallery (06:16)
Harry made a bareback rider proud and free upon a horse
And a fine coalminer for the NCB that was
A fallen angel and Jesus on the cross
A skating ballerina you should have seen her do the skater's walz
Some people have got to paint and draw
Harry had to work in clay and stone
Like the waves coming to the shore
It was in his blood and in his bones
Ignored by all the trendy boys in London and in Leeds
He might as well have been making toys or strings of beads
He could not be in the gallery
And then you get an artist says he doesn't want to paint at all
He takes an empty canvas and sticks it on the wall
The birds of feather all the phonies and all of the fakes
While the dealers they get together
And they decide who gets the breaks
And who's going to be in the gallery
No lies he wouldn't compromise
No junk no bits of string
And all the lies we subsidise
That just don't mean a thing
I've got to say he passed away in obscurity
And now all the vultures are comming down from the tree
So he's going to be in the gallery
09 Lions (05:03)
Red sun go down way over dirty town
Starling are sweeping around crazy shoals
A girl is there high heeling across the square
Wind blows around in her hair and the flags upon the poles
Waiting in the crowd to cross at the light
She looks around to find a face she can like.
Church bell clinging on trying to get a crowd for Evensong
Nobody cares to depend upon the chime it plays
They're all in the station praying for trains
Cogregations late again
It's getting darker all the time these flagpole days
Drunk old soldier he gives her a fright
He's crazy lion howling for a fight.
Strap hanging gunshot sound
Doors slamming on the overground
Starlings are tough but the lions are made of stone
Her evening paper is horror torn
But there's hope later for Capricorns
Her lucky stars give her just enough to get home
Then she's reading about a swing to the right
But she's thinking about a stranger in the night
I'm thinking about the lions tonight
What happened to the lions.
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Altre recensioni
Di AJM
"Questo è il disco di Sultans Of Swing, il singolo vincente ma degno di essere ascoltato per intero."
"Mark Knopfler ha l'innato dono di suonare esattamente quello che ci vuole al momento giusto."
Di Pandalillo
"Sultans of Swing è entrato di diritto nell’Olimpo della musica contemporanea."
"Il disco è tiratissimo ed ispirato, l’apice assoluto del Mark Knopfler songwriter."
