IRepeatMyselfWhenUnderStressIRepeatMyselfWhenUnderStressIRepeatMyselfWhenUnderStress
...e cosa ricordo?Rosso. Più rosso. Sempre più rosso. Poi il rosso squarciarsi e aprirsi una savana, e nella savana sentire barriti di elefanti che non so dire se più indiani o più africani, e rinoceronti solitari venirmi incontro (grrrr grrrr grrrr grrrr) fra chitarre isteriche metronomiche gamelantroniche (sadiche spietate violentatrici di timpani), e in una stanza specchi infrangersi - pezzi di vetro a terra in un tremendo orripilante indecifrabile frastuono... e fuggire ma non saper dove, e ritrovarsi senza saper come dentro il palazzo di re Bhumipol tra ballerine e percussionisti indisciplinati, maleducati, invasati a giocare col tempo e a prenderlo in giro - e il tempo sfasarsi, accavallarsi, sovrapporsi, partire ma non tornare, mentre i colori stanno cambiando o semplicemente sono io che li vedo cambiare...
Blu. Più blu. Sempre più blu. E nel blu sentire una cassa martellare tra il brulicare di anime del bazar di Tangeri - arabeggiante arabica arabesca tachicardia di battiti senza tregua (tu/tu ta, tu/tu ta, tu/tu ta), sistole di cassa / diastole di rullante - secco tonfo sordo senza eco, e alla cassa accompagnarsi il reflusso gastro esofageo di un Chapman Stick suonato da un omino baffuto, e il cuore rimbalzare rimpallare saltellare contro il torace per poi salire fino a sentirlo in gola, battiti incontrollati irregolari impazziti, sensazione di mani fra i capelli, il ritmo salire e l'ansia crescere e il respiro mancare - e i colori di nuovo cambiare...
Giallo. Più giallo. Sempre più giallo. E nel giallo apparire lingue di allodola in gelatina, camminare risalire scivolare su quelle lingue, e di nuovo chitarre srotolarsi come e più di quelle lingue, senza sosta - ritmo continuo inesorabile furioso, delirio delirio delirio, poi d'improvviso il ritmo rallentare ed esplodere/bruciare inferni di rumore senza spiraglio senza uscita senza respiro, onde nebbie fumi di inconcludente inconclusa infinita disperazione, poi il ritmo riprendere e ancora discendere, batteria basso basso batteria... Pulsazione. Battito. Sempre più regolare...
Stasi.
Pace.
Calma piatta.
I LIKE IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Elenco tracce e testi
03 Thela Hun Ginjeet (07:07)
Thela hun ginjeet thela hun ginjeet
Qua tari mei thela hun ginjeet
Qua tari mei heat in the jungle street
"Well, first of all,
I couldn't even see his face.
I couldn't see his face.
He was holding a gun in his hand.
Umm... I was thinking...
This is a dangerous place..
This is a dangerous place.."
Thela hun ginjeet thela hun ginjeet.
Qua tari mei thela hun ginjeet.
Qua tari mei heat in the jungle street.
I said, "I'm nervous as hell from this stuff.
I thought those guys were going to kill me for sure.
They ganged up on me like that.
I couldn't believe it.
Look, I'm still shakin'.
Weird.
There out in the streets like that.
It's a dangerous place.
It's a dangerous place."
So, suddenly, these two guys appear in front of me.
They stopped.
Real aggressive.
Start at me, you know.
"What's that?" "What's that on that tape?"
"What do you got there?"
I said, "huh?"
They said, "What are you talking into that for?"
I said, "It's just a tape, you know"
"Well play it for me"
I said "oh, no"
I put it off as long as I could.
And finally they turned it on, you know
They grabbed it from me.
Took it away from me.
Turned it on.
And it said, "He held a gun in his hand. This is a dangerous place."
They said, "What dangerous place?" "What gun?" "You're a policeman!"
And the deeper I talked, the worse I got into it.
I talked, I told him... I said, "Look man, I'm not talkin'...."
It went on forever.
Anyway, I finally unbuttoned my shirt, and said,
"look, look... I'm in this band, you know, I'm in this band you know,
and we're makin' a recording, you know.
It's about New York City, it's about crime in the streets..."
The explanation was going nowhere, but,
Finally, they just kinda let me go, I don't know why.
So I walk around the corner,
and I'm like shakin' like a leaf,
and I thought, "This is a dangerous place once again, you know."
Who should appear, but two policeman.
05 Matte Kudasai (03:45)
Still, by the window pane
Pain, like the rain that's falling
She waits in the air
Matte Kudasai
She sleeps in a chair
In her sad America
When, when was the night so long
Long, like the notes I'm sending
She waits in the air
Matte Kudasai
She sleeps in a chair
In her sad America
07 Dig Me (03:59)
Its here I sit and rust amid this ruin and rancor like tire irons
toothy grills and car parts before me. . .the acid rain floods my
floorboard, burns my pores and rots my upholstery. . .once I was
worshipped, polished magnificently, now I lay in decay by the dirty
angry bay. . .
I'm ready to leave
I wanna get out of here
I'm ready to ride away
I don't wanna die in here
I'm ready to ride. . .
My skin is metallic now, no longer and elegant powder blue. . .my body
unhinged and sleeping in the jungle of motor block manifolds and metal
relics. . .what was deluxe becomes debris, I never questioned loyalty,
but this dead end demolishes the dream of an open highway.
Dig me. . .but don't. . .bury me
08 Three of a Perfect Pair (04:30)
she is susceptible
he is impossible
they have their cross to share
three of a perfect pair...
he has his contradicting views
she has her cyclothymic moods
they make a study in despair
three of a perfect pair...
one, one too many
schizophrenic tendencies
keeps it complicated
keeps it aggravated
and full of this hopelessness
what a perfect mess...
09 Indiscipline (08:14)
I do remember one thing.
It took hours and hours but..
by the time I was done with it,
I was so involved, I didn't know what to think.
I carried it around with me for days and days..
playing little games
like not looking at it for a whole day
and then.. looking at it.
to see if I still liked it.
I did.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat..
The more I look at it,
the more I like it.
I do think it's good.
The fact is..
no matter how closely I study it,
no matter how I take it apart,
no matter how I break it down,
It remains consistant.
I wish you were here to see it.
I like it.
Carico i commenti... con calma
