Non ricordo esattamente come ho fatto la conoscenza di Emily Haines, pianista e songwriter classe 1974; quello che so per certo è che fu cosa del tutto casuale.
Probabilmente stavo cercando qualcosa di assimilabile a Tori Amos, Fiona Apple o Lisa Germano su siti genere Lastfm, quando improvvisamente mi si aprì un mondo.
A ben vedere un mondo piuttosto limitato, dato l’esiguo numero di cd concepiti da solista, ma nel quale sono immersa da anni e dal quale non riesco, né voglio, riemergere.
Per parlarvi di lei, posso dirvi che è canadese d’adozione, che cresce respirando arte grazie al padre poeta, Paul, e che inizia presto a dedicarsi alla musica prima ascoltandola e poi scrivendola.
Forma un gruppo (di cui è Leader) che lei stessa indica tuttora come la sua priorità musicale, i Metric, band di indie-funky-rock-elettronico con cui incide cinque album (l’ultimo è del 2012), parallelamente collabora con i Broken Social Scene ma soprattutto pubblica da solista - ma con il soprannome di “Emily & The Soft Skeleton”- due CD ed un EP di ballate in cui spiccano decisamente le sue doti vocali da soprano e la sua attitudine al pianoforte. Il primo cd, autoprodotto in numero di copie limitato (2.000) è pressoché introvabile, mentre quello di cui scrivo ora e di cui mi sto nutrendo da anni, Knives Don't Have Your Back (2006) è facilmente ordinabile online, per chi come me sentisse l’esigenza di averlo in originale.
Come posso riassumervi questa splendida opera?
E’ da molto tempo che penso di riproporla a Debaser in quanto la presenza di una recensione datata 2006 con soli cinque commenti (mio compreso) è cosa scandalosa per un simile cd, ma non ho mai trovato davvero le parole giuste e forse neanche ora le avrò.
E' che in questo nostro controverso salotto virtuale non si può non parlare nuovamente di un cd di simile delicatezza, classe e bellezza, nonché di tale intensità, capace di suscitare profonde emozioni e reale rapimento.
Non c’è una cosa che vada storta nell’arrangiamento, non una virgola nel pentagramma, non una sbavatura nella voce dell’intensa Emily, voce all’apparenza esile, ma capace di scavare cunicoli nello stomaco di chi ascolta.
Con ombrosa malinconia e gioiosa sorpresa.
Tutto diviene rarefatto, non esiste più lo scorrere del tempo così come lo hanno concepito e costruito i nostri antenati, non c’è luogo e materia che rimanga come la conosciamo, si sale di livello, si viene avvolti da un bozzolo caldo dove le parole, i suoni e le immagini evocate ci tolgono completamente dalla realtà, per intraprendere un viaggio lisergico che parte dall’udito e pervade tutti i sensi.
Come se non bastasse, la scaletta è perfetta e ogni brano all’altezza del precedente.
Credo che potrei ascoltare il piano ipnotico (e vederne il “film” nella mia testa) di Crowd Surf Off a Cliff per ore e ore senza mai stancarmi, senza neanche rendermene conto.
“Everywhere and every way I see you with me..…
The life that you thought through is gone
Can't want out, the ending outlasting the mood
I wake up lonely”
Non sono oggettiva, lo ammetto.
Ma qua ragazzi, lasciatemelo dire, non si scherza un cazzo.
Elenco tracce testi samples e video
01 Our Hell (04:09)
First went wrong is hard to find,
We’re paralyzed, we apologize; our hell is a good life.
Last went wrong but where's my prize, under the lights?
Can we call it in? We'll be on the road.
Can we stop? When we stop,
My back will turn your face towards the fence.
What I thought it was it isn’t now
What I thought it was it isn’t now
All this weight is honest worse.
We’re moderate; we modernize 'til our hell is a good life.
All we know is to forget how to do right,
Colouring in the black hole. Can we stop?
When we stop my hands will shake,
My eyes will burn, my throat will ache,
Watching you turn from me towards your friends.
What I thought it was it isn’t now
What I thought it was it isn't
Punishment to stall what is done.
What I thought was in this is missing out.
What I thought it was it isn’t now
There’s a pattern in the system,
There’s a bullet in the gun.
That’s why I tried to save you, but it can't be done.
It can't be done.
02 Doctor Blind (03:57)
The lack of light, hollow sea,
Poison beaches, limousines
Toothless dentists, cops that kill...
My baby's got the lonesome lows,
Don't quite go away overnight;
Dr. Blind just prescribe the blue ones.
If the the dizzying highs don't subside overnight,
Dr. Blind, just prescribe the red ones.
Hard to hold, cold to touch,
Fall to pieces, treat the rush,
In hindsight, with prime time talk.
All your pain will end here.
Let the doctor soothe your brain, dear.
My baby's got the lonesome lows,
Don't quite go away overnight;
Dr. Blind just prescribe the blue ones.
If the the dizzying highs don't subside overnight,
Dr. Blind just prescribe the red ones.
04 Detective Daughter (05:10)
She was calling around to find half an hour.
She walked right into my mirror.
Says she's here to waste time I said "That's fine."
Listen, to thyself be true, to thyself be true
Every thread, every hair re-arranged to resemble
You could have her, detective daughter copy,
Please don't be me.
There are so many skirts under the table,
None of these long legs are mine.
She calls around finds me crying,
Wish I were capable of lying sometimes.
Hide out
Love is hell, hell is love.
Hell is asking to be loved.
Hide out and then run when no one's looking.
She's still calling around to find half an hour.
She'll always have a place in my mirror,
But she's got no more time, now she wants mine.
But I'm all out too.
To thyself be true
To thyself be true
To thyself be true
To thyself be true
Sure, it’s no big deal
05 The Lottery (03:45)
I only wanted what everyone wanted since bras started burning up ribs in the sixties.
Favors are flying, faces are falling and all I desire is to never be waiting.
If that's a crime, let's commit it.
There's a new crime, sexual suicide.
When our underwire radio tears into their international airwaves,
Boredom will die, ears will bleed,
And all they'll desire is to give, and to please...
There's a new crime, sexual suicide.
There's a new crime, let's commit it.
While we're waiting on the next day
To begin it in the best way.
There's a new crime, sexual suicide.
There's a new crime, let's commit it.
Don't worry Heather, about forever.
Don't worry about me;
It's the lottery, baby, everybody roll the dice.
It's the lottery, baby, everybody roll the dice.
Will we always be like little kids,
Running grove to grove, asking,
"Who loves me? Don't know who loves me."
It's pathetic, it's impossible,
Like girls in stilettos.
Like girls in stilettos.
Like girls in stilettos trying to run.
09 Nothing & Nowhere (03:24)
Sketch of your faces I still don’t know you aren’t permanent, permanent.
You want all of our moments stolen,
Blind alleys and hallways to basements.
How you gonna' hide 'till you disappear?
Because nothing and nowhere is golden.
Apartments are cages, I still don't know what is permanent, permanent.
Maybe all my possessions were precious.
Truth is all my possessions I somehow lost them.
Been traveling so light when we're floating by,
Seems nothing and nowhere is golden.
Some say we're lost in space,
Some say we're falling off the page.
Some say our life is insane,
But it isn't insane on paper.
Playgrounds are graveyards, and all of our scars are permanent, permanent.
There's no replacement for places.
I'll always love you, you're mine.
Numb is the new high, old memories die out, 'till
Nothing and nowhere is golden.
Some say we always only want to get off,
Some say our hands are much too soft.
Some say our life is insane,
But it isn't insane on paper.
Some say our hair is in our eyes,
Some say we're out of our little minds.
Some say our life is insane,
But it isn't insane on paper to have to ask
11 Winning (05:08)
To never open a book, always reading a magazine.
Outspend betting, if it looks like winning,
You haven't been.
Knives don't have your back.
I wait and I count,
But knives don't have your back.
I wait and I count to the last breath we take.
What we made doesn't make sense.
What's a wolf without a pack?
Open your chest and take the heart from it.
Open your chest:
What's bad? We'll fix it.
What's wrong? We'll make it all right.
All right, it's gone, we'll find it
Takes so long, we've got time,
All the time.
Some part of you, too small to lose.
Some part of you, too small to lose
All of us, all of you.
All of us, all of you
Counting to the last breath we take.
What we made doesn't make sense.
What's a wolf without a pack?
Open your chest and take the heart from it.
When you talk, can I tape you?
How'd you get what we don't know?
We don't know how to help,
Only know how to hound.
Nose to the grindstone.
Grindstone to the ground.
Don't even visit that place,
They'll sharpen their teeth on your smile.
I'm glad you didn't,
All our songs will be lullabies in no time.
What's bad? What's wrong? Make it all right.
All right, it's gone, so long.
We've got time, all the time.
All the time
Carico i commenti... con calma
Altre recensioni
Di SonOfNothing
Un viaggio intimistico, onirico, etereo e conturbante ad un tempo.
Spettrale, angustiante, disperato. Il lato oscuro di Emily Haines.
