ZiOn

Magico

You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be right back after a message
about a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.

Non conosco l'album, ma adoro le sue produzioni Proto-Rap/Funk della prima metà degli anni '70, soliste e con i mitici Last Poets. Colgo l'occasione per segnalare anche un paio di artisti che, riprendendo il suo insegnamento, hanno calato lo spoken-words nello scenario musicale odierno: Ursula Rucker ed il bravissimo Saul Williams. Anzi, se avete l'occasione guardate anche "Slam" di Mark Levin, bellissima pellicola che innalza il reading a pura filosofia urbana. Grande Soc, come sempre :-)

Dagli ultimi commenti mi sorge un dubbio: sono io a sopravvalutarlo considerandolo uno dei 10 album più importanti della storia della musica? :-))

Oppure Fernet Branca. Se noti bene, nella maggior parte dei poliziotteschi campeggia in bella evidenza il logo del Fernet Branca, e ad ogni bar c'è un protagonista o un personaggio importante della pellicola che ne ordina uno. Per la serie "low-cost, caccia allo sponsor" ;-))

Come no, una volta se l'è beccato anche un mio amico e gli caddero a terra, borsa, cappello e stecca di f***o prontamente nascosta nei calzini :-))

Chi si accende la prima scorreggia?

Rido pochissimo Jim

Il top però restano i lanci di uova degli scugnizzi napoletani a Carnevale. L'anno scorso ero ad una festa in maschera nella facoltà di Architettura partenopea e non riuscivo ad uscire, causa gruppetto simpatico di giovincelli che lanciava uova nientepopodimeno che dall'altro marciapiedi, con una precisione incredibile. Ma chi è Robocop a confronto? :-))

Le cacche sintetiche! E chi non ne ha posseduta una? Oppure le mitiche caramelle al peperoncino, un toccasana per ogni cenone con parentado assortito ;-)