• Voto:
Frank Black è un maledetto genio di ciccione e io gli voglio bene.
Gli ho voluto un bene dell'anima perchè mi ha penetrato brutalmente giù in fondo nelle trombe di eustachio fino a mettere a repentaglio il mio giovine apparato faringeo e poi mi ha portato tra le stelle dello spazio profondo in pieno coito, è lì che va la mia pistola, via verso lo spazio su un'onda di mutilazione, mi ha addomesticato, sono docile taaaaaame! Hey, che Zeus lo benedica, Black Francis, coi piedi su verso il cielo e la testa per terra e sott'acqua, e poi ancora extinction! Named extinction! E allora giù botte, ho la faccia spaccata, tutte le ossa rotte. E poi a rifare l'amore sulla strada per Roswell, con Joey che nella strofa suona due note, due cazzo di note ed è tutto così magico, e Kim, la dolce Kim, che ci guarda impazzire insieme e poverella si sente esclusa, sorride sempre meno, se ne va. E' tutto finito.
Ma c'è sempre stato un feeling speciale tra me e Francis, anche se lui non lo sa. Io lo sapevo che non sarebbe potuta finire così.
E allora eccolo il pischello dell'anno. L'anno era il '94 e io non parlavo neanche tanto bene a quei tempi, tra le pettinature orrende a funghetto e righe in mezzo varie, le tute da ginnastica sgargianti e pacchianate musicali postottantine pseudoavveniristiche che se le risento oggi mi fanno crepare dal ridere.
22 canzoni per un album sono troppe? No. Teenager Of The Year suona come se lo registrassero dopodomani, alla faccia delle pacchianate, è veloce e coinvolgente, lento e sognante. Lui ti sbatte e ti accarezza e tu lo ami: parte con Whatever Happened To Pong, furiosa, Frank incazzato nero sembra un Lou Reed affetto da sindrome di Tourette, arriva Thalassocracy e neanche mi accorgo. Chitarrona distorta, cantilena ossessiva, quanto ti voglio bene Frank. E allora riecco le fatine, riecco l'acustica e le atmosfere rarefatte, viene voglia anche a me di vivere qualcosa di astratto. Tappeti di tastiere e archi, chitarre minimaliste ma perfette, è Speedy Marie, ma soprattutto Sir Rockaby.
Siamo di nuovo tra le nuvole, Frank ora fa tutto da solo ma, diavolo di un pelatone, c'è qualcosa che mi fa impazzire nel suo modo di mettere un accordo dietro l'altro, nella sua voce, nel suo essere un cazzone sofisticatissimo, un fottuto genio della canzone da tre minuti. E' praticamente fisiologico. Ole Mulholland, spigolosa e sognante con quella chitarra lì, quella distorsione non violenta, che goduria. Bravo Lyle Workman, c'è posto anche per te nel mio cuore. Arrivo alle ultime tre tracce confuso e felice che neanche la Consoli e lì c'è Joey alla chitarra, lo sento che è lui. Dire che è un finale in bellezza è dire poco.
Finisce il viaggio e lo vuoi ricominciare da capo. Quanto ti voglio bene, Black Francis, Frank Black, grazie di tutto.
Elenco tracce testi e video
02 Thalassocracy (01:33)
"Well, it isn't so great
Since you learned karate chop-chop-chop-chop-chop
You're walkin' machs and I'm just
Swimmin' in the slop-slop-slop-slop-slop
You wave your wand at me and
Make me dance flip-flop-flip-flop-flip
I want to sing for you and
Make your head go pop-pop-pop-pop
The Inuit man
Had not so much a caesar;
He had provision
Say, you're sprayin' in the windy
And I'm just pissin' off-off-off-off-off
I'm literally deaf down here from
Your canned philosoph-soph-soph-soph
Softly, can you hear me
Through the suckin' of your quaff-quaff-quaff-quaff quaff
I'm thalassocracy and you're just Romanov-ov-ov-ov
The Inuit man
had not so much a caesar;
He had provision"
04 Calistan (03:22)
I took three days to drive down one street
The radio on, tuned to the big fleet
Invisible planes are cracking the concrete
That`s just what some people say
I put down my blanket on Cigarette Butt Beach
I saw the old man, he was doing OK
He`s making his last stand
On old bottles and cans
Round there, Calistan way
Used to be sixteen lanes
Used to be Nuevo Spain
Used to be Juan Wayne
Used to be Mexico
Used to be Navajo
Used to be yippy-ay-I-don`t know
Went in from the weather when I got wheezy
I play some pachinko I play pachisi
And St. Anne is still making be breezy
In the valley of tar that once was L.A.
And my best friend he`s the king of karaoke
He struck up a chord and he took it away
Out of the pan, and into Japan
Round there, Calistan way
Used to be sixteen lanes
Used to be Juan Wayne
Used to be Mexican
Used to be Espano Nuevo
Used to be Navajo
Used to be yippy-ay-I-don`t know
05 The Vanishing Spies (03:37)
The vanishing spies
Just something I read
A couple of eyes
From out of the head
And all that was said
Was that`s just how some things don`t materialize
Could be they broke
And swan like a bird
Fear of spooking the folk
With talk of the third
Or maybe the third
Played a joke
Give me a blip
And I`ll totally flip
Say it`s nothing but sky
And I`ll be a lonely guy
The vanishing spies
Just something I read
Now there were two eyes
Sent out from the head
And all that was said
Was that is just how some things do not materialize
Give me one little blip
And I`ll totally flip
Say it`s nothing but sky
And I will be one lonely guy
07 Headache (02:52)
This wrinkle in time, I can't give it no credit
I thought about my space and I really got me down
(got me down)
Got me so down, I got me a headache
My heart is crammed in my cranium and it still knows how to pound
I was counting the rings
And I fell me into sleep
I peeked to see if you were way back when
I was counting the trees
Until a day when there was one
I'd hoped beneath, asleep is where that you had been
This wrinkle in time, I can't give it no credit
I thought about my space and I really got me down
(got me down)
Got me so down, I got me a headache
My heart is crammed in my cranium and it still knows how to pound
Well, I found you
Maybe you can help me
And I can help you
This wrinkle in time, I can't give it no credit
I thought about my space and I really got me down
(got me down)
Got me so down, I got me a headache
My heart is crammed in my cranium and it still knows how to pound
Got me so down, I got me a headache
My heart is crammed in my cranium and it still knows how to pound
This wrinkle in time, I can't give it no credit
I thought about my space and I really got me down
(got me down)
08 Sir Rockaby (02:55)
You've got a sad face
You don't show it
And you're smiling it, too
Even in deep, deep outer space
There's something for you
I'm Sir Rockaby
And rockin' I am
I'm Sir Rockaby
And rockin' I am
The world is a rock that's
Spinning so fast
It'll give you jim-jams
I'm just a real love diplomat
Won't give you no flim-flams
I'm Sir Rockaby
And rockin' I am
I'm Sir Rockaby
And rockin' I am
How many stars girl
Can you both count
And then classify?
I'm standing here in this big swirl
Singing this lullaby
I'm Sir Rockaby
And rockin' I am
I'm Sir Rockaby
And rockin' I am
I'm Sir Rockaby
12 Olé Mulholland (04:41)
Hey, sleepy monster in the sand
Time to get up and have a drink
Pacific Rim has a tank that thinks
That she is really something grand
Let me tell you about
When I was hanging out
Just in my dothi
Running in the dawn
Right across my lawn
I saw a coyote
Ole', ole', ole' for Mulholland
See the water fall
And hooray, hooray the sky is falling
Down on Bradbury's mall
Ole', ole', ole' for Mulholland
All waxed in pride
I've got a comfortable ride
And man, she could take us
Out across the salts
Right out of these faults
And on into Vegas
So slept a monster in the dune
Woke him up and then he drank
Pacific Rim has a think tank
But does she have IQ for the moon?
the concrete of the aquaduct
will last as long as the pyramid of Egypt
or the Parthenon of Athens
long after Joe Harriman is elected major of Los Angeles
Ole', ole', ole' for Mulholland
See the water fall
And hooray, hooray the ants are crawling
Down in Bradbury's mall
Ole', ole', ole' for Mulholland
Yeah, it's quite a sprawl
And hooray, hooray the sky is falling
Down on Bradbury's mall
Ole', ole', ole' for Mulholland
Ole'
15 The Hostess With the Mostest (01:56)
As fluorescents do
They blink o'er the floor
Of her majestic halls
Yeah, they do
I hear surf on kazoo
I march with the militia of the mine
Malicious are the times
Malicious
In the doors we all flew
To see the great indoors
Of her majestic stalls
Yeah, we flew
Waves break on the shore of the zoo
And I see how
Laurasia sure has changed
Imaginary planes
Imagine
I hit the mall on every friday
When it was biggest in the world
The hostess with the mostest
16 Superabound (03:10)
You heard the sun today
There she blows, there she blows
You saw the wind a'shining
You don't know, you don't know
You felt a tree that does fall
You don't know, that's OK
You don't have much taste for bouquet
I'm bored with the valleys and bored with the peaks
So I bought a ticket to the freaks
I saw a chicken with two heads
Saw something else that was headless
Then P.T. said see the egress
'Cause you move when the salesman speaks
I superabound
But I still got nothing to do
A space is made by telephone
They thought time would be overthrown
And they compiled a wish list
From Mars duels to a dish kissed
I tried to talk to the ishist
But he was debating with his clone
I superabound
But I still got nothing to do
Well, they thought it was a coup
But they still got nothing to do
You must see my domicile
I had it built in decastyle
The other day at the potlach
Come visiting was a sasquatch
He said although I'm a mismatch
Could I stay just for awhile?
'Cause the likes of us are few
And we still got nothing to do
I superabound
But I still got nothing to do
Carico i commenti... con calma
