Un album di culto che non è per nulla invecchiato: per la nostra Marianne questo BROKEN ENGLISH del 1979 fu davvero l’occasione per riprendersi la vita e rilanciare una propria dimensione artistica uscendo sia dalle secche del folk-revival giovanile che dagli stereotipi di una ormai screpolata icona della swinging-London.
Sono solo otto pezzi, ma tutti buoni e per me al vertice della sua produzione; citerei almeno la title track per quel suo aggressivo ritornello – “What are you fighting for?” – che è una sferzante reprimenda contro il terrorismo politico di quegli anni (qui il riferimento è la banda Bader-Meinhof, ma avrebbero potuto essere le nostrane BR); e poi la tirata anti religiosa di «Guilt» (“Anche se non ho fatto niente di male / Mi sento in colpa”); la disillusione e il deterioramento mentale di una casalinga di periferia per la dolente cover di «The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan” – che fu poi ripresa nella colonna sonora di “Thelma e Louise» - e la spettrale, quasi apocalittica cover della lennoniana «Working Class Hero». Davvero feroce la chiusura con «Why’d Ya Do It», canzone scabrosa e sessualmente esplicita (ben prima che arrivassero le provocazioni di Veronica Ciccone) quasi a segnare una cesura definitiva con la sua immagine patinata degli anni sessanta. Così come assolutamente nuova e diversa era ormai la sua voce, valore aggiunto e identitario per un’artista trentenne (letteralmente risorta dal buco nero dell’eroina) che cantava senza filtri le proprie angosce e una ritrovata femminilità.
Un album emozionante: musicalmente una “new wave-post punk” assai lontana dal pop di scuola Talking Heads o Blondie; un cielo oscuro, ma ricco di bagliori luminosi, attraversato da una musica tagliente, secca e all’apparenza quasi glaciale; arricchito dalla presenza di un session-man di lusso come Steve Winwood alle tastiere e dalla chitarra di Barry Reynolds, anche coautore e produttore di alcuni pezzi e per Marianne un collaboratore di lungo corso. Eccellente la grafica di copertina (autore, Dennis Morris): lo sguardo di lei rintanato dietro il braccio, un blu elettrico a schiarire il profilo del volto e a catturare la nostra attenzione il puntino rosso di una sigaretta. Consigliatissimo.
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 Broken English (04:38)
Could have come through anytime,
Cold lonely, puritan
What are you fighting for ?
It's not my security.
It's just an old war,
Not even a cold war,
Don't say it in Russian,
Don't say it in German.
Say it in broken English,
Say it in broken English.
Lose your father, your husband,
Your mother, your children.
What are you dying for ?
It's not my reality.
It's just an old war,
Not even a cold war,
Don't say it in Russian,
Don't say it in German.
Say it in broken English,
Say it in broken English.
US CD MFSL Ultradisc UDCD 640
r. 08 08 1995
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
Could have come through anytime,
Cold lonely, puritan.
What are you fighting for ?
It's not my security.
It's just an old war,
Not even a cold war,
Don't say it in Russian,
Don't say it in German.
Say it in broken English,
Say it in broken English.
Say it in broken English,
Say it in broken English.
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting ...
04 Guilt (05:11)
I feel guilt, I feel guilt,
Though I know I've done no wrong I feel guilt.
I feel guilt, I feel guilt,
Though I know I've done no wrong I feel guilt.
I feel bad, so bad,
Though I ain't done nothing wrong I feel bad.
I feel bad, so bad,
Though I ain't done nothing wrong I feel bad.
I never lied to my lover,
But if I did I would admit it.
If I could get away with murder
I'd take my gun and I'd commit it.
I never gave to the rich, I never stole from the poor,
I'm like a curious child, give me more,
More, more, more, more, more, more.
I feel blood, I feel blood,
Though I feel it in my veins, it's not enough.
I feel blood, I feel blood,
Though it's streaming through my veins it's not enough.
I never stole a scarf from Harrods,
But if I did you wouldn't miss it.
I never stole a doll from Lovecraft,
But if I did you know I'd kiss it.
I never stole from the rich, I never gave to the poor,
I'm like a curious child, just give me more,
More, more, more, more, more, more, more, more.
I feel guilt, I feel guilt,
Though I know I've done no wrong I feel guilt.
I feel guilt, I feel guilt,
Though I ain't done nothing wrong I feel guilt.
Guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt
Guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt ...
05 The Ballad of Lucy Jordan (04:12)
"The morning sun touched lightly on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
In a white suburban bedroom in a white suburban town
As she lay there 'neath the covers dreaming of a thousand lovers
Till the world turned to orange and the room went spinning round.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.
So she let the phone keep ringing and she sat there softly singing
Little nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.
Her husband, he's off to work and the kids are off to school,
And there are, oh, so many ways for her to spend the day.
She could clean the house for hours or rearrange the flowers
Or run naked through the shady street screaming all the way.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair
So she let the phone keep ringing as she sat there softly singing
Pretty nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.
The evening sun touched gently on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
On the roof top where she climbed when all the laughter grew too loud
And she bowed and curtsied to the man who reached and offered her his hand,
And he led her down to the long white car that waited past the crowd.
At the age of thirty-seven she knew she'd found forever
As she rode along through Paris with the warm wind in her hair ..."
07 Working Class Hero (04:42)
As soon as you're born they make you feel small
By giving you no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
They hurt you at home and they hit you at school,
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool
Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
When they've tortured and scared you for twenty odd years
Then they expect you to pick a career,
But you really can't function you're so full of fear.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV
And you think you're so clever and classless and free,
But you're still fucking peasants as far as I can see.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
There's room at the top they are telling us still,
But first we must learn how to smile as we kill
If we want to live like the folks on the hill.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
Carico i commenti... con calma
Altre recensioni
Di R13558860
"La nuova voce di Marianne Faithfull è quella dell’esperienza, dell’innocenza che fugge via inseguita da strisce da cocaina e mozziconi di sigarette."
"Farebbe una splendida figura!" riferito al cantare a memoria e sputare in faccia al traditore le strofe di 'Why’d Ya Do It'.
Di luludia
La sofferenza l'ha forgiata e ora è affilata come una spada, aspra come una sentenza e roca come un colpo di tosse.
"Il pericolo è una grande gioia e l'oscurità è luminosa come il fuoco" solo una come Marianne poteva cantarla.
