Il disco più ruvido dei Manics, il loro sesto, il secondo interamente composto senza il supporto di Richie James, è sempre stato anche il più criticato, trascurato, malvisto. Perché, nell'ordine: è troppo grezzo, propone uno stile artatamente punk che non calza alla band, è troppo funambolico, è troppo lungo (!!). In effetti il disco è sporco, moderatamente duro, parecchio vario, senz'altro molto lungo (sedici brani, più una traccia nascosta). Il che, francamente, a me è sempre piaciuto moltissimo.
Gran parte del merito di questa ruvidezza va alla produzione pesantemente invasiva di Dave Eringa, anche se, non c'è dubbio, i Manics ci mettono del proprio, attraverso un utilizzo più aggressivo delle chitarre e una scrittura più eclettica e sghemba, e quindi più manipolabile. Nel disco c'è un po' di tutto, senza che il risultato sia eccessivamente eterogeneo: si va dalla partenza punk-rock di "Found That Soul" (notevole) al disco-funky di "Miss Europa Disco Dancer", dal rock-folk di "The Year Of Purification" al country-blues di "Wattsville blues", fino a vere sparate di brit-rock come "Dead Martyrs", che sfoggia pure un attacco inconfondibilmente joydivisioniano, o la conclusiva "Freedom Of Speech Won't Feed My Children". I momenti migliori stanno in "So Why So Sad", che ai cori beach-boysiani della strofa unisce un ritornello in cui emerge il cantato nostalgico di Bradfield, in "Ocean Spray", pezzo mid-tempo che fa respirare il salato del mare e che ha il suo picco in un maestoso assolo di tromba, e nell'amarezza di "His Last Painting", sorretta da un semplice ma efficace arpeggio acustico.
In realtà l'album non ha evidenti cali di tensione, ma solo qualche flessione in passaggi più vagamente insapori ("Baby Elian"). Wire offre sempre un'alta qualità nella scrittura dei testi: spiccano l'evocazione dell'incontro cubano con Castro (nell'apprezzabile "Let Robeson Sing") e i virtuosistici citazionismi di "The Convalescent", autentico collage informale che fa incontrare la passione per l'arte dei Manics e la loro postmoderna stratificazione di quotidiani logorii ("Kleenex kitchen towels and teletext tv: my favourite inventions of the twentieth century"). Piacevole anche la parte conclusiva, dove di solito i Manics tendono a perdere colpi (vedi l'ultimo disco): "Royal Corrispondent" oppone un basso ultradistorto all'acustica malinconia di Bradfield, "Epicentre" attacca con un arpeggio banalmente geniale, per poi arricchirsi di un accompagnamento di tastiere che ingentilisce il consueto stile dei Manics, qui quasi tropicale, e ormai sempre più pop. Da citare anche la nascosta "We Are All Bourgeois Now", cover dei McCarthy.
Disco senz'altro meno compassato del precedente "This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours", non è in realtà, come si è sempre detto, un tentativo andato a vuoto di recuperare i fasti sfocati e sprezzanti di "The Holy Bible". È, piuttosto, un avvicinamento alla maturità più spiccatamente pop dei Manics di oggi attraverso un percorso più tortuoso e ondivago, ma sempre a buoni livelli: l'ispirazione di certo non manca, e l'ambizione di travestirla fantasiosamente con arrangiamenti vistosi e magari anche un po' debordanti va apprezzata, anche perché, a ben vedere, centra il bersaglio quasi sempre.
Elenco tracce testi samples e video
01 Found That Soul (03:05)
Show me a wonder
You can't be sure of
I exist in a place
A self-made vacuum
But still stranded here
With all the scum
So clean, So lost
So beautiful
But I found that soul
Yeah I found that home
But I found that soul
But I found that soul
Yeah I found that now
But I found that soul
Not a subject
Not a subject am I
Sick and pale but
Strangely alive
Broken blood vessels
Line my cheeks
Reflections look bad
And somehow unreal
But I found that soul
Yeah I found that home
But I found that soul
But I found that soul
Yeah I found that now
But I found that soul
But I found that soul
Yeah I found that home
But I found that soul
But I found that soul
Yeah I found that now
But I found that soul
Show me a wonder
Show me a wonder
Show me a wonder
Show me a wonder
02 Ocean Spray (04:11)
me-totemo-utsukushi-i-desu-ne
totemo-utsukushi-i-me-wo-shitemasu
It's easy to see, it's easy to see
To see only white where colour should be
It's easy to feel, it's easy to feel
But it's not good enough, even though it's real
Oh please stay away
And then we can drink some Ocean Spray
Oh please stay away
And then we can drink some Ocean Spray
It's easy to breathe, it's easy to grieve
To breathe only air where life should be
It's easy to laugh, it's easy to cry
To cry so so hard that it can't be denied
Oh please stay awake
And then we can drink some Ocean Spray
Oh please stay awake
And then we can drink some Ocean Spray
Oh please stay awake
And then we can drink some Ocean Spray
Oh please stay awake
And then we can drink some Ocean Spray
03 Intravenous Agnostic (04:02)
Lyrics by Nicky Wire, music by James Dean Bradfield and Sean Moore
Into a vein exhibit the derelict
A secular mosaic distracted at birth
A Cubist abstraction let it live forever
Narcissism so lonely so live by the sea
What a mess
Cosmetic - polemic
Distinguished by relics
Destructive aesthetic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous
Brutality is needed in capitalist society
Television abandoned my very entity
Nature failed me
But then it made me
We all pray for pluralist babies
Cosmetic - polemic
Distinguished by relics
Destructive aesthetic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous
Dismayed - dispossessed
Life becomes Calvanist
So sparkle and believe
Linguistics die easily
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous agnostic
Intravenous
04 So Why So Sad (04:02)
Things get clear when I feel free
When whatever's next comes easily
When gentle hands give life to me
When your eyes fill with tiny tears
When I'm this still you are my life
So at ease in the midnight sky
But my insides will look like war
Paralysed except through my thought
So why so sad - You live and you love
So why so sad - Dependent on above
Searchin for the Dead Sea Scrolls
So why - so why so sad
My smile as real as a hyena's
Burns an expressway to my skull
But I'll stick myself together again
Spirit so low I no longer pretend
So why so sad - You live and you love
So why so sad - Dependent on above
Searchin for the Dead Sea Scrolls
So why - so why so sad
So why so sad - You live and you love
So why so sad - Dependent on above
Searchin' for the Dead Sea Scrolls
So why - so why so sad
So why so why so sad
So why so why so sad
So why so why so sad
06 The Year of Purification (03:40)
Detoxification
Purification
The ravaged corner
Cold and embittered
Run away - run away - as fast as you can
From anything that needs discipline
The year of purification
The year of purification
Deification
Depopulation
Crescendo of craving
Sullen and distorted
Run away - run away as fast as you can
From anything that needs discipline
The year of purification
The year of
The year of purification
The year of purification
What have I said?
What have I said again?
I regret everything
Moral little shit-kickers
Liberal asnine pricks
Run away - run away - as fast as you can
From anything that needs discipline
The year of purification
The year of
The year of purification
The year of purification
07 Wattsville Blues (04:29)
I got the Wattsville blues
I got nothing to lose now baby
I got the Wattsville blues
I got nothing to lose now baby
Time is going on
Time is leaving me
I got the Wattsville blues
I got the Wattsville blues now baby
But I still love the smile on your face
But I still love the sense of this place
I'm so happy I know I can never leave
Even though my, my brain it fucking bleeds
I got the Wattsville blues
I got nothing to lose now baby
I got the Wattsville blues
I got nothing to lose
Time is going on
And time is killing me
I got the Wattsville blues
I got the Wattsville blues now baby
But I still love the smile on your face
But I still love everything about this place
I'm so happy I know I can never leave
There's a part of me that will never leave
But I still love
But I still love
But I still love the smile on your face
But I still love the everything about this place
I'm so happy I know I can never leave
Even though my, my brain it fucking bleeds
I got the Wattsville blues
I got nothing to lose now baby
I got the Wattsville blues now baby
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Wattsville blues
Wattsville blues
Don't want no friends
Don't want no friends
Don't want no
Don't want no
Don't want no friends
Don't want useless fuckers knocking at my door
Poxy fucking assholes following me
Don't you understand that I fucking despise
Every single living organism?
I'm dead
08 Miss Europa Disco Dancer (03:52)
Miss Europa disco dancer
Feel the drug of your persona
Miss Europa disco dancer
I'm in heaven when I see ya
Miss Europa disco dancer
Favourite son and favourite daughter
Miss Europa disco dancer
suck-suck-suck - up all your power
So serene the world turns blue
Heads are spinning - it feels so good
It's poetry, sheer poetry
The way you destroy your beauty
Miss Europa disco dancer
Brutally becomes a no hoper
Miss Europa disco dancer
had your luck and had your chances
Miss Europa disco dancer
Never reached the super- nova
Miss Europa disco dancer
Wake up drunk and then fall over
So messed up the world turns grey
All washed up with depts too pay
It's agony, sheer agony
The way your life just fades away
Braindead motherfuckers
Braindead motherfuckers
Braindead motherfuckers
Braindead motherfuckers...
09 Dead Martyrs (03:23)
Dead martyrs
All stigmartyrs
Dead heroes
For fear of zeroes
Dead martyrs
Always take it further
Dead heroes
Know no fear
Living for some happiness
Find nothing that satisfies
Had a beginning but it got no end
Got no future
Just dead stars for dead eyes
Got no future
Just dead stars for dead eyes
Got no future
Dead stars are always the blackest
Dead heroes the living empty
Dead martyrs hang on forever
Dead martyrs always take it further
Living for some happiness
Find nothing that satisfies
Had a beginning but it got no end
Got no future
Just dead stars for dead eyes
Got no future
Just dead stars for dead eyes
Got no future
Got no future
Just dead stars for dead eyes
Got no future
Just dead stars for dead eyes
Got no future
10 His Last Painting (03:16)
The nothing in me
The apostle in me
No interpretation
For the heart of me
I can't see right from my wrong
I've loved so much that I can't go on
It's not my life anymore
Don't speak the truth anymore
All of the hope and the dreams
Ripped right open at the seams
I can't see right from my wrong
I've loved so much that I can't go on
Seems like I've lost myself
To everybody and everything else
I've lied again today
People laugh at it all the time
I can't see right from my wrong
I've loved so much that I can't go on
It's not my life anymore
Don't speak the truth anymore
All of the hope and the dreams
Ripped right open at the seams
I can't see right from my wrong
I've loved so much that I can't go on
The nothing in me
The nothing in me
The apostle in me
No interpretation
For the heart of me (For the heart IN me )
11 My Guernica (04:56)
Lyrics by Nicky Wire, music by James Dean Bradfield and Sean Moore
I'm small and I'm tired
I'm blurred to bits and wired
I'm nothing in this universe
Nothing but pieces of dust
Appearing in more repeats
The mirror man has seen defeat
Hide away, be old and grey
Alfred J Prufrock would be proud of me
Keep it together - hold it together
Keep it together - hold it together
Little someone in my own little Guernica
Sleep so heavy that it's out of the question
Little someone in my own little Guernica
Wake up and pour myself another ice-breaker
Going now so happy and so loose
Making bigger holes in my stomach
Losing losing split down the middle
With no end and no beginning
I'm small and I'm tired
I'm blurred to bits and wired
I'm nothing in this universe
Nothing but pieces of dust
Keep it together - hold it together
Keep it together - hold it together
Little someone in my own little Guernica
Sleep so heavy that it's out of the question
Little someone in my own little Guernica
Wake up and pour myself another ice-breaker
Keep it together - hold it together
Keep it together - hold it together
Little someone in my own little Guernica
Sleep so heavy that it's out of the question
Little someone in my own little Guernica
Wake up and pour myself another ice-breaker
Ice-breaker
Ice-breaker
Ice-breaker
Hello
12 The Convalescent (05:54)
Lyrics by Nicky Wire, music by James Dean Bradfield and Sean Moore
My bedroom wall recalls what's in my head
A collage constructed and constantly fed
Goya mixes Picasso but it's hardly Spain
Look through the window, pissing down with rain
Lovely labradors outnumber musicians
Bonnie and Clyde have made their good intentions
Pity poor Payne Stewart in a death bubble
But what a swing and so much bottle
So I convalesce and I ease the stress
Cos DNA means does not accept
So I convalesce and I ease the stress
Cos DNA means does not accept
Kleenex kitchen towels and teletext TV
My favourite inventions of the twentieth century
Haile Gebrselassie looks so sweet and young
Eyes quickly shift to Jack Kevorkian
Uneven and tidal all with exit policies
Followed by anti-ballistic migraines
And Brian Warner has a tasty little ass
Scared of cash machines and the Mardi Gras
So I convalesce and I ease the stress
Cos DNA means does not accept
So I convalesce and I ease the stress
Cos DNA means does not accept
Alberto Juanterino unique in his field
These are the things that, that make you feel
Klaus Kinski with love off Werner Herzog
Scream until the war is over
Scream until the war is over
Srebrenica cousin of Treblinka
Scream until the war is over
War is over
And Dante's Inferno slides into dismorphia
So scream until the war is over
So I convalesce and I ease the stress
Cos DNA means does not accept
So I rehabilitate and get my body straight
Cos nothing fits like it used to fit
13 Royal Correspondent (03:31)
You've been this way since school
Dysfunctional, translucent
Royalty on your wall
So desperately mundane
They're inbred baby just like you
But you'd love the chance to eat their food
Even though it has been chewed
Royal correspondent
Sad and lonely
Royal correspondent
Kills her daily
Dream of the Daily Mail
It is the Holy Grail
And then the BBC
Your life would be complete
Build a fountain, wash away the poor
Just as long as your motives are pure
Hold on tight or you just might lose her
Royal correspondent
Wears their Sunday best
Royal correspondent
Smarter than the rest
Royal correspondent
Smarter than the rest
Royal correspondent
Smarter than the rest
Royal correspondent
Smarter than the rest
Royal correspondent
Smarter than the rest
Smarter than the rest
14 Epicentre (06:26)
We use ourselves like politicians
For all the money and indecision - indecision
Indecision
Feels like there's no escape
except through my hate.
Second hand germ warfare
Denied oxygen everywhere
Like a stunned fox - with memory loss
A sad numb creature - I worship the painkiller
It is my epicentre
It is my epicentre
Non-existent energy adrenalin my God
Still clinging to the umbilical chord - umbilical chord
I'm breaking and I'm shaking - so delete the feeling
Beneath the real thing - delete the feeling - delete the feeling
Like a stunned fox - with memory loss
A sad numb creature - I worship the painkiller
It is my epicentre
It is my epicentre
I'm sleeping myself away
Into the blurred life of yesterday
I'm tip-tip-a-tapping tip-tip-a-tapping
My nerves are destroyed
Feels like there's no escape
Except through my hate
Second hand germ warfare
Denied oxygen everywhere
Like a stunned fox - with memory loss
A sad numb creature - I worship the painkiller
This is my epicentre
This is my epicentre
You don't drink - you don't get high
So make sure you take your medicine boy
You don't drink - you don't get high
So make sure you take your medicine boy
This is my epicentre
17 Just a Kid (03:31)
Afraid of the sun
So afraid of the sky
Touch it and taste it
But don't reach too high
Bewildered by them
Then so uncomplicated
All these feelings
Not fully created
Just a kid amongst the Autumn leaves
A kid kicking around with no worries
Just a kid searching through the debris
Just a kid acting like I used to be
Just a kid acting like I used to be
Afraid of the sun
So afraid of the sky
Touch it and taste it
But don't reach too high
Hurting and yearning
And yet so carefree
Waking and dreaming
The world at my feet
Just a kid amongst the Autumn leaves
A kid kicking around with no worries
Just a kid searching through the debris
Just a kid acting like I used to be
Just a kid acting like I used to be
Just a kid amongst the Autumn leaves
A kid kicking around with no worries
Just a kid searching through the debris
Just a kid acting like I used to be
Just a kid acting like I used to be
Just a kid just a man and a boy
Just a moment that time will destroy
18 The Masses Against the Classes (03:22)
The country was founded on the principle that the
primary role of government is to protect property from the majority
- and so it remains
One, two, three, four
Hello it's us again we're still so in love with you
And yes we mean it too yes we're so in love with you
Hello it's us again you thought you were our friends
Success is an ugly word especially in your tiny world
The masses against the classes
I'm tired of giving a reason
When the future is what we believe in
We love the winter it brings us closer together
So can you hurt us anymore can you feel like it was before
Or are you lost forever more messed up and dead on alcohol
Hello fond farewell my dears I hope you hear this nice and clear
Our love is unconditional our hate is yours to feed upon
The masses against the classes
I'm tired of giving a reason
When the future is what we believe in
We love the winter it brings us closer together
The masses against the classes
I'm tired of giving a reason
When we're the only thing left to believe in
We love the winter it brings us closer together
A slave begins by demanding justice and ends by wanting to wear
a crown
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