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I NOFX arrivano al loro decimo album in studio, anticipato dall'Ep "Never Trust A Hippie". E in sostanza questo cd non aggiunge quasi niente di nuovo. Per intenderci se avrete apprezzato le produzioni dei '90 e siete vecchi fan presterete orecchio pure a questo discreto lavoro, a chi invece non è mai piaciuto il loro sound che ormai li caratterizza da anni, vi consiglio di lasciare perdere il disco.
Il punto debole dei quattro californiani, e che purtroppo qua viene accentuato, è la costante scelta di imbottire l'album di riempitivi a sandwich tra le canzoni migliori. Se in passato si poteva chiudere un occhio ogni tanto visto che poi ti sfornavano canzoni come "Stickin in my eyes" e "Dying degree" per capirci, in questo cd l'unica cosa che viene fuori e che le canzoni sebbene siano ancorate al solito medio-core, risultano inferiori al passato a parte qualche fortunosa eccezione. Oserei dire che le canzoni (diverse delle quali non toccano i 2 minuti) sono più digeribili del passato.
C'è da dire che di carne da mettere al fuoco c'è parecchia: in primis la questione della mancata sorpresa delle nuove tracce, visto che 6 provengono dai vari 7" del Month Club precedentemente pubblicati prima dell'uscita del disco e altre due canzoni ("Seeing double at the triple rock", "The marxist brothers") erano già contenute nell'Ep precedente. E questo purtroppo sa tanto di operazione commerciale che i NOFX avrebbero potuto assolutamente evitare di fare.
Tornando alla sette note, a differenza di album come "White Trash Two Heebs And A Bean" e Punk In Drublic" in cui erano presenti spruzzi ska e parti di tromba di El Hefe, qui si nota la quasi totale mancanza. Questo non è un difetto, il vero problema e come i nostri hanno deciso di rimpiazzare lo spazio di solito dedicato alle sortite di natura ska-reggae, che vede adesso delle inutili canzoncine pseudo pop in stile ballad acustiche o semi acustiche e che sono una caduta di stile ("One celled creature", "Cantando en espanol").
Voi direte ma non c'è niente di buono? Calma, qualcosa di gustoso in pentola c'è sicuramente, del resto sono sempre un gruppo con un'esperienza più che ventennale.
Quali sono gli episodi migliori dell'album che lo elevano un po'? Andiamo con ordine.
"60%" apre l'opera e poi viene travolta nel testo e nella musica e la chiude pure facendo da outro. Ma le tracce migliori arrivano dopo a partire dall'episodio più riuscito del platter "Usa holes". Hardcore come dio comanda con una melodia tirata, chitarre aggressive e ritmica molto veloce. Personalmente come vorrei fosse ogni canzone dei NOFX.
Uno degli elementi che sempre mi ha fatto piacere vedere proporre dal combo sono i diversi assoli presenti nei vari componimenti. "Seeing double at the triple rock" ne è un esempio essendo una canzone con sound che fa molto punk ‘n' roll. Tra le migliori pure la veste country punk della breve "The man i killed" con il suo riff nella strofa che strizza l'occhio alla tradizione folk. Da citare pure l'azzeccato leit-motiv di "Leaving jesusland".
Le altre rimangono in disparte rispetto a quelle già citate anche se non sono così male ascoltare il pezzo acustico "Doornails". Ma il cavallo di forza dei quattro i sono da sempre stati i testi, che trattano problemi di natura sociale e le loro ironiche invettive politiche. Sempre buona l'ironia con cui Fat Mike sa trattare tematiche delicate come la pena di morte di "The man i killed", mentre critiche al governo Bush sono presenti in "Usa holes", mentre è più sobrio quello di "Doornails" che è un omaggio ai musicisti punk morti di recente come Derrick Plourde batterista dei Bad Astronaut ed ex Lagwagon morto suicida.
In conclusione "Wolves In Wolves In Clothing" anche dopo diversi ascolti non convince nel complesso, sebbene abbia una varietà di umori non indifferente. Senza infamia e senza lode.
Elenco tracce testi e video
04 We March to the Beat of Indifferent Drum (02:38)
With our ass in the air and our heads in the ground
There's no sense of despair, without sight, without sound
We hold our ears and shut our eyes
Distant screams morph into lullabies
We beat indifferent drum, we pound it till we're numb
We validate, rationalize, corroborate each others lives
Pat my back and I'll pat yours, benevolent conquistadors
We piss down throats, shit in cupped hands
Wipe our asses with all foreign flags
We beat indifferent drum, we pound it till we're numb
20 feet high, 2 feet thick, barbed wire, razor blades
The wall was built to keep them out while keeping us in goose step parades
We don't questions what we've become
We march to the beat of the same indifferent drum
We beat it till we're numb, we beat it till we're numb
07 Benny Got Blowed Up (01:05)
Tired of shootin' smack, tired of on the run, traded the needle... for the gun
Tired of livin' small, tired of the withdrawal, no more retreat time for attack
Oh Benny how many times you tried to kill yourself,
OD's and robberies and super stunts, I never thought you'd die from them
Riding around in tanks, fire a round of blanks, Benny had never had such fun
Until he took a wrong step into bomb, and that's when Benny got blowed up
Alone, under a blanket soaked with sweat and piss,
We figured Benny would end up like this
We just didn't think for them
09 Getting High on the Down Low (01:13)
I'm on the wagon now
But she doesn't know
I'm getting high on the down low
Cuz when I got the new thing
I got no place to go
Unless I got a bottle in me
I'm in a Cadillac
I'm starting to stare
Who's the guy with the blood in his hair
The last thing I remember
I was going somewhere
And then the stop sign got in the way
[cough]
I'm laying low in a hospital bed
I got a dent, and a crack in the head
That's okay cuz i've got no idea what I just said
Gotta love the hospital meds
I'm getting high on the D.L.
10 Cool and Unusual Punishment (02:05)
Absolute shibari, cold noodles and hot sake
The mistress bar in Roppongi is the place
For Japanese hardcore, not the kind you're gonna find at the record store
Not the kind designed for the kind hearted
Do not pass go, do not get bail
Go directly to Osaka Jail
Where you get locked or drunk under the table
For just under 10,000 yen
You can visit hell and come back again
For the process of hurting and healing
Cake and candle wax dessert
It’s not fun ‘til someone gets hurt
Who’s the next to get hung from the ceiling
So if you want rewards and consequence
They got the cool and unusual punishments
Get on your knees for Japanese instruction
Rope and Cigarette burns, forget about any health concerns
This is pure assisted self-destruction
Kanpai and bottoms up, unhelping hands hogtie you up
One bad deed surely deserves another
Bruised from bamboo caning
Coming home try explaining this to your significant other
Good fucking luck
11 Wolves in Wolves' Clothing (01:57)
We're Rome, Aztec Mexico, Easter Island paradigm
We are followers of Jimmy Jones, cutting in the kool-aid line
We are Animal Farm Pigs, we are a Terry Gilliam film
We are fear Oligarchy, we are wolves in wolves' clothing, we are this planet's kidney stones
In the process of getting passed, metamorphosis from first to last
A system breaking down beyond repair
A product of three million millionaires and 100 million easy marks
We are Marie Antoinette, we are Joseph McCarthy
We've finally become the divided states
A nation built on freedoms, fears, and hates, the denotation of Irony
We all want a Hollywood end, but we're getting a foreign one
The script has already been penned, and titled, "the epitaph of a drowning nation"
12 Cantando en Español (01:26)
Despues de 235
canciones, los liricos se valuan mas
y no tengo ningunos para esta
El Hefe canta melodia triste
o canta amor de la corazon
haz como que hable español
Ojala que la mayoria
de nuestros aficionados
no entiendan nada que canto
para los otros: chinga su madre, guey
13 100 Times Fuckeder (01:57)
fighting with gloves
now we're the ones a hundred times f**keder
hitting above the belt
now we're the ones a hundred times f**keder
citing the facts
now we're the ones a hundred times f**keder
exposing all the lies
now we're the ones a hundred times f**keder
we get what we f**king deserve
bringing raised fists to a knife fight
you'd think developed minds could learn
not to give benefit of doubt
you wouldn't trust a hungry animal
around your newborn, would you?
sharing the wealth
now we're the ones a hundred times f**keder
taking the high road
now we're the ones a hundred times f**keder
showing respect
now we're the ones a hundred times f**keder
giving a shit
now we're the ones a hundred times f**keder
did anyone really expect
to win a race already fixed
the spoils doled out in advance
the appointed already picked
all allegations of fraud
categorically dismissed as absurd
14 Instant Crassic (00:34)
I'm swimming in a sea of pee
I'm hiking up a big mountain of poo
I feel like rolling in glass when I'm without you
I'm diving in a bowl of puke
I'm fly fishing a stream of puss
That's how I feel when something separates us
I'm living in Bakersfield
I'm at a month long hip-hop festival
15 You Will Lose Faith (02:31)
Your only daughter's turning tricks cause she's jonesin' for a fix
She just blew your mechanic, that's when you will lose your wife's
Overdose was a success, humiliation was too great
Now with your estate foreclosed, you will surely lose your head
Was in a bad place when you punched your supervisor in the throat
An inadvertent fatal blow, were the words your lawyer used
On the unsympathetic judge, who was having a bad day
So he threw your life away, is faith still comforting you?
I know the answer, still I ask, where is your god now?
You thought it was the Christian thing to do, breaking up that fight at school
'Til the gun came into play, and the sight was set on you
Running was ironic cause it was the last time you would
You wish the kids you tried to help wouldn't laugh when he saw you
Are the invisible man, no one looks you in the eye
You've become an anecdote, the wrong place at the wrong time
The worst case scenario, the proverbial "that guy"
You never did question your faith; you flushed it with your first piss bag
That's why I have to ask, where is your god now?
17 Doornails (02:14)
These two shots are for Derrick
For Rifle, not the handgun
For Coffee and Cigarettes
Give It Back
You know, suicide isn't painless
When you leave everyone in pain
Two shots will never go down the same
This beating's for Jimmy
For Ultimate Devotion
For your Mind Of My Own
Bring Out Your Dead
Sedated, flagellated
You were the one most loved and hated
Thanks for all that carpet and your songs
This petron's for Jason
This lager's for Andy
And these doses are for Bomber
And this fix is for Bradley
This ritalin's for Lumpy
And this speedball's for Friday
This nitrous hit is for Lynn and best friend Dobbs
This bowl is for my mom
For drinking more than I did
For posting bail for me in New York
And in Hollywood that first time
And that joint we smoked was the worst time
Cause doing drugs with parents is just wrong
This petron's for Jason
This lager's for Andy
And these doses are for Bomber
And this fix is for Bradley
This song is for winning losers
It's for lucky substance abusers
The ones who left their black marks on us all
18 60% (reprise) (01:54)
I'm not here to entertain you
I'm here to meet my friend the Russian
The Irish, the German, the Columbian
I don't care how bad I fuck up
I care about how fucked up I get
I'm not your clown
I'm your dealer
And I'm holding three bindles of bullshit
And you're buyin' them 'cause you are addicted
To the pure and totally uncut
I'm not here to amuse you
I'm here to abuse my body
I'm here because old habits die hard
And seriously, what else am I supposed to do?
This isn't my job, my hobby, my habit
It's sad, but this is my life
Welcome to our mission statement
Total self-debasement
And not giving our all
Watch us Fall!
It's not that we don't pull it
It's just that we only give about 60 or so percent
Would you rather be fed bullshit
From some 20-something, makeup wearing, popstar
"This one goes out to all our fans all over the world
Without you, we'd just be us.
So, I just wanna say thank you!
We fuckin' love you, Modesto!"
Fuck you!
And you're takin' it easy before the show
So you won't lose your voice
And disappoint your fans routine
And you don't care about the children
You don't even know them
All you know is their money
Carico i commenti... con calma
Altre recensioni
Di ginopino
I NOFX non hanno più fantasia e fanno questi pezzi tutti uguali, privi di mordente.
Con tutto l’affetto che nutro per loro, i NOFX non hanno più molto da dire e farebbero meglio a sciogliersi.
