Dunque, prima che il MALVAGIO (sto ovviamente scherzando, ha già detto che non me l'avrebbe fregata) Pibroch mi freghi anche questa rece, ho deciso di scriverla. Corre l'anno 1987, ormai il declino di grandi gruppi come i Deep Purple, i Genesis et similia è affermato, ma non tutti i grandi sono decaduti: i Jethro Tull, come conferma questo 'Crest Of A Knave', sono ancora vivi e vegeti, anche se non ancora con gli spunti di un tempo.
"Steel Monkey" è la prima canzone e, a dire la verità, non è molto bella, anzi, direi addirittura che è brutta: una specie di stanchissimo hard rock infarito di tastiere elettroniche molto fastidiose, nonostante un buon impatto chitarristico. Bah, come inizio non andiamo affatto bene... ma per fortuna ci giunge in soccorso "Farm On The Freeway", una canzone che può essere definita, ancora nell'87, progressive. Un incipit con tastiere che danno un'atmosfera fantasmagorica, un cantato decisamente non scontato (scusate il gioco di parole) ed una bella parte strumentale fanno di questa canzone una delle migliori tracce dell'album. "Jump Start" e "She Said She Was A Dancer" sono due tipici folk rock alla tull, il primo bello, anche se non eccezionale, mentre la seconda si rivela un lentone d'atmosfera abbastanza scontato e noioso (nonché, in certi passaggi, zuccheroso).
A lascirami interdetto è "Dogs In The Midwinter", canzone abbastanza carina, più che decente, fra il """"pop"""" ed il rock, assolutamente coerente, ma con qualcosa di mancante (sarà la batteria elettronica, sarà il ritmo che non mi sà per niente di Tull, sarà una certa stanchezza compositiva di sottofondo... so assai io!). "Budapest" mi toglie tutti i dubbi sull'album: è una canzone stupenda, il capolavoro del disco, con il suo riff stupendo che resta in mente in eterno, la solennità, la stessa lunghezza della canzone (10:07), la tristezza intrinseca alla canzone, che però non sfiora nemmeno da lontano lo zuccheroso, l'incedere maestoso dello strumentale... "Mountain Men" inizia su atmosfere adamantine, per poi dare il via al cantato, che si rivela epico, dopo un inizio stentato, con una compattezza assoluta fra voce e strumenti. Forse la canzone è abusata nella struttura, ma è semplicemente bella. "The Waking Edge" è, invece, una canzone piuttosto noiosa, quasi una pubblicità di biscotti, sui livelli di "She Said She Was A Dancer". Poco o nulla da dire. "Raising Steam" chiude il disco con un hard rock simile a "Steel Monkey", ma riesce ad essere almeno decente o, perlomeno, meglio sviluppato.
Cos'è, dunque, 'Crest Of A Knave' ? Un disco, molto semplicemente. I Tull riescono a condensare in questo disco svariate buone idee ben sviluppate e le cadute di stile sono sopportabili (siamo nell'87, invero), creando un album che non sarà magari un capolavoro, ma che riesce almeno a restare sull'onda.
Fuck Scaruffi.
Elenco tracce testi e samples
01 Steel Monkey (03:39)
As the moon slips up, the sun slips down,
I'm a highrise jockey, and I'm heaven bound.
Do the woorkboot shuffle, loose brains from brawn.
I'm a monkey puzzle and the lid is on.
Can you guess my name? Can you guess my trade?
I'm going to catch you anyway.
You might be right. I'll give you guesses three.
Feel me climbing up your knee
Guess what I am. I'm a steel monkey.
Now some men hustle and some just think.
and some go running before you blink.
Some look up and some look down
from three hundred feet above the ground.
Can you guess my name? And can you guess my trade?
Well, I won't rest before the world is made.
Arm in arm the angels fly.
Keep me from falling out the sky.
Steel monkey. (x3)
I work in the thunder and i work in the rain.
I work at my drinking, and I feel no pain.
I work on women, if they want me to.
You can have me a climb all over you.
Now, have you guessed my name?
And have you guessed my trade?
I'm cheap at the money I get paid.
In the sulphur city, where men are men,
we bolt those beamsthen climb again.
Steel monkey
03 Jump Start (04:55)
In the dark of the city backwoods, something stirs then slips away.
Law and order in darkest Knightsbridge. Crime and punishment at play.
Hey, Mr. Policeman won't you come on over. Hook me up to the power lines
of your love.
Jump start, or tow me away.
And through the bruised machinery, the smoking haze of industry.
Another day with ball and chain. I do my time, then home again.
Hey, Mrs. Maggie won't you come on over. Hook me up to the power lines
of your love.
Jump start, or tow me away.
Well, should I blame the officers? Or maybe, I should blame the priest?
Or should I blame the poor foot soldier
who's left to make the most from least?
Hey, Jack Ripper won't you come on over. Hook me up to the power lines
of your love.
Jump start, or tow me away.
You can blame the newsman talking at you on the satellite T.V.
And if you're fighting for your shipyards, you might as well just blame the sea.
Hey, Mr. Weatherman come on over. Hook me up to the power lines
of your love.
Jump start, or tow me away.
05 Dogs in the Midwinter (04:37)
You ever had a day like I had today,
when things are stacked up bad?
You look around and every face you see
seems guaranteed to send you mad.
And you peer into those hallowed institutions.
And they bark at you from every side.
But the bite goes wide.
I see them running with their tails hanging low
like dogs in the midwinter.
The prophets and the wise men and the hard politicos
are all dogs in the midwinter.
Let the breath from the mountain still the pain,
clear water from the fountain run sweeter than the rain.
Dogs in the midwinter.
The boss man and the tax man and the moneylenders growl...
like dogs in the midwinter.
The weaker of the herd can feel their eyes and hear them howl
like dogs in the midwinter.
Though the fox and the rabbit are at peace,
cold doggies in the manger turn last suppers into feasts.
Dogs in the midwinter.
You ever had a day like i had today ---
dogs in the midwinter.
You look around and every face you see ---
dogs in the midwinter.
And you peer into those hallowed institutions.
And they bark at you from every side.
But the bite goes wide.
We're all running on a tightrope, wearing slippers in the snow...
we're all dogs in the midwinter.
The ice is ever thinner. Be careful how you go
like dogs in the midwinter.
And it's hard to find true equilibrium
when you're looking at each other down the muzzle of a gun.
Dogs in the midwinter.
06 Budapest (10:05)
I think she was a middle-distance runner...
(the translation wasn't clear).
Could be a budding stately hero.
International competition in a year.
She was a good enough reason for a party...
(well, you couldn't keep up on a hard track mile)
while she ran a perfect circle.
And she wore a perfect smile
in Budapest... hot night in Budapest.
We had to cozzy up in the old gymnasium...
dusting off the mandolins and checking on the gear.
She was helping out at the back-stage...
stopping hearts and chilling beer.
Yes, and her legs went on for ever.
Like staring up at infinity
through a wisp of cotton panty
along a skin of satin sea.
Hot night in Budapest.
You could cut the heat, peel it back with the wrong side of a knife.
Feel it blowing from the sidefills. Feel like you were playing for your life
(if not the money).
Hot night in Budapest.
She bent down to fill the ice box
and stuffed some more warm white wine in
like some weird unearthly vision
wearing only T-shirt, pants and skin.
You know, it rippled, just a hint of muscle.
But the boys and me were heading west
so we left her to the late crew
and a hot night in Budapest.
It was a hot night in Budapest.
She didn't speak much English language...
(she didn't speak much anyway).
She wouldn't make love, but she could make good sandwich
and she poured sweet wine before we played.
Hey, Budapest, cha, cha, cha. Let's watch her now.
I thought I saw her at the late night restaurant.
She would have sent blue shivers down the wall.
But she didn't grace our table.
In fact, she wasn't there at all.
Yes, and her legs went on forever.
Like staring up at infinity.
Her heart was spinning to the west-lands
and she didn't care to be
that night in Budapest.
Hot night in Budapest.
08 The Waking Edge (04:49)
As I wake up in a room somewhere...
dawn light not yet showing.
There's just a thin horizon between me and her...
the edge of a half-dream glowing.
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night.
Strange how the sheets are warm beside me.
Now, how do I catch the waking edge?
As it slips to the far and wide of me.
Didn't I try to hold it down?
Freeze on the picture, hang sharp on the sound.
Catch the waking edge
another time.
Familiar shadows in my hotel room
are still here for the taking.
They seem to linger on as the street lights fade
and the empty dawn is breaking.
Private movie showing in my head...
which button do I press for re-run?
And how do I catch the waking edge?
The edge of a dream about someone.
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night...
now the sheets are cold beside me.
09 Raising Steam (04:06)
Over high plains, through the snow...
roll those tracks out, don't you know
I'm raising steam.
Thin vein creeping; hot blood flow...
spill a little where the new towns grow.
I got my whole life hanging in a sack,
heading out into that wide world wide.
You got your locomotive sitting on your track
and I don't care which way I ride.
I may not be coming back.
Left a lady with a heart
all in pieces come apart
raising steam.
That engine up front must
have a heart big enough for the both of us.
Riding shotgun on the sunset, stare it in the eye,
rocking on my heels out to the west.
Funny how the whole world, historically,
feels the urge to chase the sun to rest.
We may not be coming back.
Let me be your engineer...
have you smiling ear to ear
raising steam.
And will you tell me how it feels
when you're up and rolling on your driving wheels?
I got my whole life hanging in a sack,
heading out into that wide world wide.
I'll be your locomotive blowing off its stack
and I don't care which way I ride.
I may not be coming back.
Raising steam.
Carico i commenti... con calma
Altre recensioni
Di v8interceptor
Anderson opterà per dirigere una COVER BAND di se stessa, recuperando gli elementi che fecero grande il gruppo.
Questo disco presenta anche delle news di ben altro tenore, Anderson adotta un nuovo metodo di scrittura.