Se mai dovessi incontrare Courtney, le consiglierei di morire, in un modo o nell'altro. Avrebbero così un senso i suoi vani sfoghi artistici, l'esperienza con le Hole, la sua carriera da attrice, i suoi strenui sforzi per essere all'altezza dello standard del cantautorato rock americano, underground e non, e magari, anche la storiografia si convincerebbe, la smetterebbe di tacciarla come mediocre e per qualche settimana, la celebrerebbe come divina, giusto per riempire qualche pagina in più.

Ma se in questi anni ho capito qualcosa di lei, è sicuramente il fatto che non è di certo una persona artefatta. È ingenua, agisce senza grossa riflessione, è mossa dall'istinto e da un patetismo tutto suo. Tutto ciò, pur traducendosi musicalmente, in una mancanza di metodo e nozionismo di base, sfocia tuttavia in una vena compositiva assai varia, frutto delle molteplici esperienze di vita, musicali e culturali che costituiscono il suo background. L'eclettismo della Love ha dato luogo, nel tempo, ad esiti musicali molto diversi tra loro, in virtù dei quali possiamo considerare abbastanza frammentaria la produzione delle Hole, se non addirittura priva di coerenza. E in un'apparente mancanza di unitarietà si risolve l'album in questione: una specie di raccolta di brani inediti, versioni unplugged e cover, in cui è però sintetizzata in maniera organica tutta la storia delle Hole: dalle origini noize al foxcore, sino alle pretese grunge e alla troppo pesante competizione con l'ombra di Kurt Cobain.

È da dire che le Hole ebbero strani rapporti col foxcore: pur costantemente richiamandosi a quel mondo, di certo non furono delle rigoriste in materia. Anzi. A Courtney, le riot di Olympia dovettero sembrare, ad un certo punto, assai stereotipate e inutilmente velleitarie, a giudicare dal testo di "Olympia". Se mai le Hole hanno fatto foxcore, lo ritroviamo, forse, solo in quest'album: "Turpentine", "Phonebill Song", "Burn Black", "Dicknail", brani depennati dalla tracklist di "Pretty On The Inside", in cui comunque risalta l'originalità dell'interpretazione di Courtney rispetto agli stereotipi del genere. Ci fu poi il grunge e l'album "Live Through This", che stava lì a ribadire il concetto in veste edulcorata ma, se non altro, personale: abbiamo qualche pezzo unplugged: la celebre "Miss World", "Softer, Softest", "Asking for It". E se l'ombra di Cobain grava su quell'album, abbiamo poi "Old Age", una cover dei Nirvana registrata per l'unplugged di MTV, che risente ancora delle emozioni suscitate dalla morte di Kurt e della commozione di Courtney che sembra concentrarsi nel ripetuto "I'm sorry" finale.

Celebrare i Nirvana in quel momento e in quella circostanza aveva un significato del tutto particolare. Proprio in quella occasione, qualche tempo prima, i Nirvana erano stati gli artefici di uno spettacolo assai suggestivo, dal quale fu poi prodotto un disco di grande fortuna, "Unplugged in New York", in virtù del quale, a buon diritto, i Nirvana posero la loro candidatura ad essere ascritti nella schiera dei grandi cantautori della tradizione americana. In questo senso, il tributo ai Nirvana da parte delle Hole, è una celebrazione del ricordo e, allo stesso tempo, un riconoscimento della loro posizione ormai definitiva nell'immaginario rock. Ma è anche senso di appartenenza ad un modello, a degli ideali il cui peso, si rivela, a tutt'oggi, assai difficile da portare. Un peso con cui i musicisti rock di oggi convivono costantemente e di cui, probabilmente, più nessuno si farà carico.

Eppure, Kurt Cobain, così come Courtney Love, non sono mai stati dei musicisti nel senso stretto. Non possiamo certo dire che abbiano inventato qualcosa. La loro peculiarità sta piuttosto in un'originale rielaborazione di una lunga tradizione musicale: rock bianco per lo più, dal country alle avanguardie punk. Ed è in un richiamo alla tradizione che possiamo inquadrare le cover presenti in questo album: "Seasons of the Witch" di Donovan, la versione britannica e avanguardista di Bob Dylan, e "He Hit Me" di Carole King, celebre cantautrice, donna e americana: ed è anche nella scelta di questi due pezzi che si salda la frammentarietà di questo album: è la biografia delle Hole, del loro mondo variegato, complesso, contraddittorio, documento emozionale di una vicenda umana ancor più che musicale, e in quanto tale, compiuto oggetto d'arte.

Elenco tracce testi e video

01   Turpentine (04:00)

It'll come down and look you in the eye
The way you're gonna go with no place to die
My water breaks like turpentine
I sit dead in the sacrifice
You get to watch, you get to watch
Now you get to watch me die
Bless my body and bless my soul
Wrap it in turpentine
I see you standing, whatever for?
All the lads know I like it cold and raw
Who really knows where the ruby rides?
I see all the sick reflections in your ruby eyes
And I know all you devils by your Christian names
And I know all you bitches by your Christian names
You get to watch, I get to watch
Now I get to watch you die
Bless my body and bless my soul
Wrap it in turpentine
Acrid, syphilic coteries
Put your head up over your legs
Count backwards from infinity
Eat the rose and the dirt it grows in
They don't even know what hole that's supposed to go in
And now you're mad and you're slapping me
It stinks up here in the junkie tree
You get to watch, you get to watch
Now you get to watch me die
Bless my body and bless my soul
Wrap it in turpentine
Acrid, syphilic coteries
Put your legs up over your head
I've been walking to your suicide
See the human hometown suicide
I've ceased to exist on the Christmas list
I've ceased to exist in your disease
I lie right down, baby, give it to me
I lie right down
Nowhere to walk, backwards, forwards
Nowhere to walk, backwards, forwards
Nowhere to walk, backwards, forwards
Nowhere to walk, backwards, forwards
Nowhere to walk, black was gold
Nowhere...

02   Phonebill Song (01:48)

She's a bimbo playing on the damn phone

I can really fuck you up, yeah
Because I'm the demon buttercup
You have to spit to see the shine
I see the carcass in your eyes

Before I go to sleep
Get it away from me

See the demon whore has eyes
Well, everything you look at dies
I gotta run up the phone bill
Because I'm a loser buttercup, uh-huh

Before I fall in too
Baby, I don't owe you

I could really suck you in
And you'll never see the light again
I gotta run up your phone bill
Because I'm a loser buttercup, uh-huh

Oh, I just want more
Baby, I just get bored

03   Retard Girl (04:46)

Retard girl makes us sick
Retard, poke her with a stick
Well she walks funny, kind of like a pig
Gotta hate that retard girl

See the retard girl walking in her school
In the same dress from fourth grade
See the retard girl cross-eyed in the schoolyard
Looking for the friend she made

Retard girl
Retard girl
Retard girl
Don't forget her face

Now shines the moon among the lake of fire
She's sucking dick out in the yard
Well she walks funny, kind of like a pig
Gotta hate that retard girl

Hear the retard girl do one for me
She don't think like the others do

See the retard girl squirming in the mud
Throw her in the trash can, see what she does

Retard girl
Retard girl
Retard girl
Don't forget her face

I ask her mother, "Why'd you implode"
Well, her head's so big it just might explode
And she walks funny, kind of like a pig
Gotta hate that retard girl

Hit her

See the retard girl staring at the sun
What does she see
See the retard girl stare at everyone
I hope she doesn't see me

Retard girl
Retard girl
Retard girl
Don't forget her face

Retard girl
Retard girl
Retard girl
Don't throw her away

04   Burn Black (04:56)

Now you complain and say you want the keys
Over my dead body, baby, that's where they'll be
Forget the knots around your neck
You say you remember, baby, you forget

Hey hey, this much is true
I never trusted you
Hey hey, this much is true
Now I'd burn black for you

And I try just to forget
Never, I won't
Never, I won't
Never, ever, never

Saying things that you can't hear
My dumb mouth to your deaf ear
Gushing lump, a violent smear
My dumb mouth to your deaf ear

Hey hey, this much is true
I never twisted you
Hey hey, this much is true
Baby, I'd burn black for you

No, I won't go down to it
Never, I won't
Never, I won't
Never, I won't Never

Crawl right up the wall
Up the stairs and down your hall

Now you beg and you want me
Over my dead body, baby, that's where I'll be
And you laugh at my disease
While sugar runs from my arteries

Hey hey, this much is true
I never bothered you
Hey hey, this much is true
Baby, I'd burn black for you

And I try just to forget
Never, I won't
Never, I won't
Never, I won't
Never

Starts out like magic, some sick religion
That ain't no vulture, that's a fucking pigeon
She's got vultures in her hair
And blood and feathers, they are everywhere
You want retreat, filthy and deep
A dead moon, a drunken seed
Baby, there is a room full of death and whores and truth
And I am waiting in that room
And I am sorry I did that for you
It's all whores, it's all pain
It's all disease, man, it's all the same
My little Judas, my little twin
Where you start, that's where I begin
She said, "I want it NOW!"

05   Dicknail (03:39)

It'll come down and look you in the eye
The way you're gonna go with no place to die
My water breaks like turpentine
I sit dead in the sacrifice
You get to watch, you get to watch
Now you get to watch me die
Bless my body and bless my soul
Wrap it in turpentine
I see you standing, whatever for?
All the lads know I like it cold and raw
Who really knows where the ruby rides?
I see all the sick reflections in your ruby eyes
And I know all you devils by your Christian names
And I know all you bitches by your Christian names
You get to watch, I get to watch
Now I get to watch you die
Bless my body and bless my soul
Wrap it in turpentine
Acrid, syphilic coteries
Put your head up over your legs
Count backwards from infinity
Eat the rose and the dirt it grows in
They don't even know what hole that's supposed to go in
And now you're mad and you're slapping me
It stinks up here in the junkie tree
You get to watch, you get to watch
Now you get to watch me die
Bless my body and bless my soul
Wrap it in turpentine
Acrid, syphilic coteries
Put your legs up over your head
I've been walking to your suicide
See the human hometown suicide
I've ceased to exist on the Christmas list
I've ceased to exist in your disease
I lie right down, baby, give it to me
I lie right down
Nowhere to walk, backwards, forwards
Nowhere to walk, backwards, forwards
Nowhere to walk, backwards, forwards
Nowhere to walk, backwards, forwards
Nowhere to walk, black was gold
Nowhere...

06   Beautiful Son (02:30)

07   20 Years in the Dakota (02:54)

She spent twenty years in the dakota
Every single day it was black in the dakota
Riot grrrls think you can stop me
And you're forever in her debt
Well I know you haven't sent me
And you haven't sent her yet
She spent twenty years like a virus
They want to burn the witch who's inside us
Well you, you don't fuck with the fabulous four
Or you spend the rest of your life
Picking things up off the floor
She's still alive but i am sure
That all the stars belong to her
On california king-sized beds
She's wrapped in rags inside my head
This is the story, this is the story of someone who's wild
Big black rules, pearl, life
I don't remember, I forget
Oh, baby dry your dirty eyes
My water breaks like turpentine
The pee girl burns to be a bride
Your ever lovely suicide
Are they coming for me
Are they coming soon
Hey jude, hey jude
Are they coming for me
Judy, judy
Are they coming soon
I don't remember, I forget
The pee girl burns to be a bride
Your ever lovely suicide
I don't remember, I forget

08   Miss World (demo) (03:29)

09   Old Age (04:23)

And I will await your highness
I'm so high I cannot walk
And I will await
You cripple
You take away my pride
My peace, my empathy
No babies sleep on atrophy
Your unborn love and fetal stress
Hard bitter candy, legless caress

What was she for Halloween?
The ugliest girl you've ever seen
Someday she will die alone

What was she for Valentine's?
An old forgotten concubine
Someday she will die for no one

She seems to me to know
All that glitters is sour
All the lies in her place
Jesus saves
Old age
Old age
Old age

It's okay to kill your idols
Just pretend you have no rivals
We all know that she is friendless

Spits at mirrors; it's not an issue
Just remove the hateful tissues
We all know her rage is endless

She seems to me to know
All that glitters is sour
All the lies in her place
Jesus saves
Old age
Old age
Old age
Old age

And then she begs and she says "Pretty please?
I'll make her pure again; I'll make her clean"

No one knows she's Hester Prynne
Someone please tell Anne Boleyn
Chokers are back in again

Someday she won't have to fake it
Living will itself seem sacred
Someday she will just refuse

She seems to me to know
All that glitters is sour
All the lies in her place
Jesus saves
Old age
Old age
Old age
Jesus saves
Old age

(Rest in pieces) I'm sorry
(Me in pieces) So sorry
(Rest in pieces) I'm sorry
(Me in pieces) So sorry

10   Softer, Softest (03:47)

I tell you everything
I hope that you won't tell on me
I'd give you anything
I know that you won't tell on me

Pee girl gets the belt
It only makes me cry
And all your milk is sour
And I can only cry
And I can only cower
And I can only cry
You have all the power

I've got a blister from
Touching everything I see
The abyss opens up
It steals everything from me

Pee girl gets the belt
The old milk makes me mind
Your milk is so sick
Your milk has a dye
Your milk has a dick
Your milk has a dye
Your milk has a dick

Burn the witch
The witch is dead
Burn the witch
Just bring me back her head

The pee girl gets the belt
Your milk makes me melt
Your milk is so mean
Your milk turns to mine
Your milk turns to cream
Your milk turns to cry
Your milk turns to cream
Your milk turns to cry
Your milk turns to cream
Your milk turns to cry
Your milk turns to cream

11   He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss) (03:44)

12   Season of the Witch (03:42)

13   Drown Soda (live) (06:10)

14   Asking for It (live) (05:58)

Carico i commenti...  con calma