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Questo album, registrato alla Caroline Records e uscito per l’indipendente City Slang, fece conoscere le Hole alla scena underground americana che a quei tempi preparava la sua rivalsa, e anche se questa avvenne più che altro in termini commerciali, non fu però priva di autenticità e originalità, cose che anzi costituirono la principale caratteristica dell’era grunge. Spesso, secondo me a torto, si assimilano le Hole alle ‘riot grrls’, movimento nato in seno al grunge, di cui si fecero portatrici bands come le Bikini Kill della mitica Kathleen Hanna o le L7 della hardcoriana Donita Sparks…ma a ben sentire, le Hole, dal punto di vista musicale, sono qualcosa di estremamente diverso, qualcosa di molto più complesso e sentito rispetto alle grida starnazzanti di una Kathleen Hanna o alle assurdità liriche di una Donita Sparks. O almeno, così promettevano agli esordi della loro carriera, sbocciata sotto gli auspici più favorevoli ad opera di una tale Kim Gordon, bassista dei Sonic Youth, gruppo indipendente, fondamentale per la formazione delle allora nuove leve…c’è chi li definisce “genitori del grunge”. La fiducia di Kim Gordon in Courtney Love e la sua banda non era certo infondata…del resto, il talento era innegabile. L’album che ne esce fuori è un album che “si nutre di fastidio”…dalla prima all’ultima traccia è un’unica cantilena che si ripete infinitamente, che disturba…zero melodia e tutto noise alla Sonic Youth.
Non ci troviamo di certo di fronte ad un album facile da ascoltare…e se è per questo, nemmeno piacevole, anzi dà un senso di soffocamento nelle sue disarmanti frasi e nei suoi distorti giri di chitarra che rivelano la presenza di un musicista di indubbia bravura, Eric Erlandson. Il suono è pervaso da un senso di angoscia, di attesa di un momento opportuno e allo stesso tempo di impazienza. La musica è la totale riproduzione dei pensieri espressi. È “odio pieno”, è alienazione. Alienazione che diventa denuncia. Denuncia verso un sistema nel quale non ci si riesce e non ci si vuole riconoscere. Ma non c’è niente di estremamente palese…tutto è estremamente allegorico, anche quando la canzone ha il titolo di “Teenage Whore” o “Garbadge Man”.
L’assenza di melodia tradisce il senso di straniamento di fronte ad una realtà, molteplice nelle sue sfaccettature, che è ridotta ad uniformarsi sotto lo spersonalizzante impatto delle convenzioni sociali. E Courtney, ottima voce, forse la migliore voce femminile del rock, canta di un’autenticità corrotta, di un’innocenza venduta, di un candore sbiadito, di un suono disturbato, di una musica che ci sconvolge ma è finita, della totale e purtroppo necessaria assenza di rispetto, pace, amore, empatia, tra le persone.
Un album sincero, spontaneo, autentico, senza compromessi, probabilmente poco perfezionato, poco maturo dal punto di vista compositivo, una sorta di abbozzo. Sicuramente l’abbozzo delle migliori idee che vi siano mai venute in mente.
Elenco tracce e testi
01 Teenage Whore (02:57)
When I was a teenage whore
My mother asked me, she said, "Baby, what for?
I give you plenty, why do you want more?
Baby, why are you a teenage whore?"
I said, "I feel so alone and I, I wish I could die"
I've seen the things you put me through and I, I wish I could die
When I was a teenage whore
The rain came down like it never did before
I paid good money not to be ignored
Then why am I a teenage whore?
I've seen your repulsion and it looks real good on you
Denying what...what what you put me through
...of my house...get out of my house!
Get out of my house...get out of my house!
When I was a teenage whore
My mother asked me, she said, "Baby, what for?
I give you plenty, why do you want more?
Baby, why are you a teenage whore?"
I've seen your repulsion and it looks real good on you
I don't want to live what you had...you have put me through
I wanted that shirt and I, I wanted those pants
It's all the lying put me through and I
I never...whoa!
02 Babydoll (04:59)
Here you come sucking my energy
And you suck it up right off the street
Babydoll
Here you are sucking my energy right up
Drill it in my good hole so that I can see
You are so much bigger than me
You are so much bigger than me
Babydoll
My raw hand, my fever blister, watch me
Watch me, watch me disappear
Here she comes, her pants undone
All waste and void, all waste and void
There you go in your Nazi car
Oh babydoll, what a whore you are
You sit around with your old rag
How can I talk when you've got the gag?
Here you come sucking my energy
And you suck it up, baby, right off the street
Babydoll
In the dark I destroy
What I began, what I destroy
She's hanging in the blossom tree
Babydoll just bleeds for me
Babydoll
Babydoll, she's on the field
Her chemical wedding and her chemical peel
I knife me and I slash mine
And I knife me and I slash mine
Sick and sorry me, well, here you are as ugly as me
Drill it in my good hole so that I can see
Drill it in my good hole so that I can see
Here you come sucking my energy
And you suck it up, baby, right off the street
Babydoll
She stares too long into the sun
Now I want a cancer that the crooked eye spun for you
I don't mind my energy
'Cause baby, you are so much bigger than me
Babydoll
Little girl, she's on the floor
She gets it all 'cause she's a whore
Little girl, she's on the ground
She gets it all for falling, falling down
Falling down
"I am, I am," she says
"I am not free," she says
"Help me, I am withering...withering...withering..."
Hang on, you'll get your soul
It's a soul
Hey it's a soul, it comes down
See, see it's a soul
06 Mrs Jones (05:25)
MRS. JONES
Sorry man, sorry, sorry, I've got a bad eye
I shouldn't have looked at it
I've got a bad eye
I should have listened
Go away, go away on the sugar star
Sugar star and the abortionist
You want her on the bed
With her legs wide open and her eyes all spread
The sky's a narcotic with blackjack bones
Oh Mrs. Jones
Oh Mrs. Jones
Cry me a river but just take me home
Oh Mrs. Jones
Oh Mrs. Jones
Sorry man, I've got a gut slit
Fucking ran away with my abortionist
It's my little white lie
You know, like I jizzed with
The knife they used to gut my face in
It's been out stabbing baby angels in
Smile, smile
The sky's a narcotic with blackjack bones
Oh Mrs. Jones
Please Mrs. Jones
My virus is raging and it's breaking my bones
Oh Mrs. Jones
Please Mrs. Jones
I will follow you down the sick drain
When I lean on, on the sink
Don't worry, don't worry, baby
You will never stink so bad
Sorry man, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have looked at it
I'm sorry man, you're a night blooming sickle cell
Night blooming sickle cell
I ran away, I ran away
Look into the bloodroot you suicide bitch
It takes an hour like you to make me want to live
Sorry man, I'm sorry, man
The sky's a narcotic with blackjack bones
Oh Mrs. Jones
Oh Mrs. Jones
Come get your dog, it won't leave me alone
Oh Mrs. Jones
Please Mrs. Jones
My virus is raging and it's breaking my bones
Oh Mrs. Jones
Please Mrs. Jones
Oh, cry me a river, baby, just take me home
Oh Mrs. Jones
Oh Mrs. Jones
Sister ectoplasma, she's incredulous
Just like a pro she takes off her dress
She kicks you down in her snow white pumps
Just remember it was me who found the lumps
Shit...shit...shit...shit
East is east and west is west
And mine was you
And mine was the best
And east is east and west is west
And mine was you
And mine was blind, was gold
Mrs. Jones
Don't ask me again
Don't ever talk to me like that again
07 Berry (02:46)
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Oh yeah yeah, yeah yeah
Do you want a ride on my death machine?
Pump a dime in if you do
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Oh yeah yeah, yeah yeah
Yeah, I kill what I need
Yeah, I kill what I need
When I die won't you bury me?
'Cause I buried you, baby, deep in me
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Oh yeah yeah, yeah yeah
Cut it open
What's inside?
You drag me back there
Yeah, I want to know
Baby, I said I want to know
Never know, never know
Cut it open
Say pretty please
You'll drag it to the...
Yeah, I want to know
Baby, I said I want to know
Never know, never know
And when I die, won't you bury me?
'Cause I buried you, baby, deep in me
Yeah, when you fall for the garbage man
You wind up in the garbage
08 Loaded (04:19)
Black lung coat and your little crown
That's the crown that you get for falling down
Hey baby, let me look in your eyes
I see you standing in a weird red light
The pump and grind that I call my head
The suck milk nebula I use instead
The sweet cream clot and the sweet cream udder
The weird red light that pulls you under
Open my scar, let out my stars
Slut me open and suck my scars
And now I'm loaded
Yeah, now I'm loaded
Put on your coat and your little crown
That's the crown that you get when you fall down
Hey baby, won't you wave goodbye
As you go off to fuck your weird red light?
Rotten sun spits on your raw hide
As you dance to the sound of a suicide
Oh yeah, you laugh as you try to to hide
That you're the rat poison daughter of a suicide
Slut me open and suck my scars
Better open your eyes when I come down
And now I'm loaded
Yeah, now I'm loaded
Don't blush when I rip you open
Don't blush when I rip you open
Hey baby, let me look in your eyes
As you go off into your weird red light
The pump and grind that I call my head
The suck milk nebula I use instead
The sweet cream clot and the sick milk udder
The weird red light that pulls me under
You open and suck my scars
Better open your eyes when I come down
And now I'm loaded
I just get loaded
I just get loaded
I just get loaded
And now I'm loaded
So am I, So am I
And I, I just got, I just got I just get, I just get, I just get loaded
I just get loaded
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Altre recensioni
Di kristen
Pretty On The Inside è un album talmente grezzo e brutale che è difficile da ascoltare: invece ascoltatelo e riascoltatelo ancora.
Quel groviglio di suoni abrasivi è l'album più sconvolgente del 1991.
Di AR (Anonima Recensori)
Un disco da avere assolutamente ma da assumere in dose minime, far abituare le orecchie e proseguire in dosi più massicce.
"Pretty On The Inside" è una canzone che dura il tempo di un urlo con tutto il fiato che riesci a prendere in soli due polmoni(!) e a buttarlo fuori.
