Belli i NoMeansNo e soprattutto utili. Con il loro "Happy Hardcore" ti danno la possibilita di mandare affanculo tutti i manicheismi musicali.
Fanculo, ad esempio, ai "Progressive(di cosa)malati" con la loro spocchia e le loro frasi fatte... <<Si, bravini, ma nulla di eccezionale e poi hanno tutti i difetti della musica post-77. Poca tecnica (dico: ma senti? Sicuro di non voler chiamare Amplifon? Guarda che è un numero verde, non paghi niente e poi, cazzo, i NoMeansNo sono allucinanti da un punto di vista puramente tecnico), arrangiamenti inesistenti (a cosa serve arrangiarsi quando sai da subito quello che devi fare?)>>.
Fanculo ai tipini Post-Rock, la maggior parte di questi amano i Mogwai o, peggio ancora, i Giardini Di Mirò e sollevano le spalle al nome Slint. Tranquillo non è una bibita americana... <<Si, belli. Capaci indubbiamente, ma troppo poco riflessivi (amico, cosa c'è da riflettere? al massimo camperai 80 anni... ne hai di tempo per riflettere, non temere. Ora pensa a muovere il culo), troppo poco impressionisti (MAH)>>.
Fanculo ai BrutalMerdallaroBorchiatoSpaziale, stupido, il più delle volte, quanto un pelo di scroto... <<Questa è musica per froci (ma non è più da froci andare girando tutto vestito di simil-pelle e con i capelli che toccano il culo)>>.
Fanculo agli Indieoti del 2007. Sputano la parola "Indie", ma non sanno di che si tratta... <<Belli proprio, però non sono capaci con le melodie (fottiti e basta, sei troppo stupido per campare. Se vuoi ti fustigo seguendo il ritmo della cassa e vedrai quanto ti piaceranno le melodie targate NoMeansNo).
Fanculo a tutti quelli che non conoscono i NoMeansNo (e pure a loro che se sbattono altamente di farsi conoscere). Sti due fratelli girano, insieme al chitarrista di turno, il mondo dal 1979 con il loro post-happy-hardcore e fanculo al mondo che ti pugnala alle spalle, facendo debiti che non verrano mai pagati.
Fanculo a me che per due euro non mi son comprato Wrong al loro concerto... quanto ho girato per trovarlo poi.
Fanculo ai NoMeansNo che pensano a suonare solo e non ristampano i loro vecchi LP (questo disco contiene l'EP You kill me e l'album Sex Mad, entrambi del 1986).
Fanculo ai fighetti elettronici tutti inumidi e alle loro droghe sintetiche... <<Ballabili, ma la musica fisica è finita. Ora si va di computer (non è la musica fisica che è finita. Sei tu che non sei mai cominciato)>>.
In sostanza suonano come suonerebbe un fidanzamento tra i Jesus Lizard e i Minutemen, che si amano, si coccolano, ma pensano sempre a Benny Hill come possibile amante ideale.
Ripeto il concetto: Fanculo a tutti e fanculo a chi dice fanculo. Invece, viva i NoMeansNo e la loro sfiga, viva tutti gli sfigati del mondo... BE STRONG, BE WRONG
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 Sex Mad (04:13)
I have to have you far too much
I have to grab I have to touch
I have to feel your every curve
I have to stir each little nerve
I want the pleasure I want the pain
I want to overload my brain
I'm going SEX MAD
I want to squeeze your living flesh
Oh, to be buried in your chest
Or steamy breath and gripping bone
I may be lost but not alone
I'm going in riot coming out
I'm going in not coming out
I'm going SEX MAD
I stare at everything that moves
I look all over pick and choose
Well I don't want just anyone
I only want just everyone
I know it's not for me to take
I think my mind is going to break
I'm going SEX MAD
My self control is very fine
Considering what's on my mind
But I don't want to hurt and hate
I simply have to copulate
The more I see the more I want
The more I see the more I want
I'm going
SEX MAD SEX MAD SEX MAD SEX MAD.
02 Dad (03:00)
I want home, I was feeling so alone
I was late, it was my mistake
I want to my room and sat there in the gloom
I know I've been bad, I know he'll be mad
I hear him coming down the hell
And there's nowhere to go, nowhere at all
I've been had, it was my mistake
He opens the door, his eyes are full of hate
DAD NO! DAD, LEAVE ME ALONE! DAD, NO! DAD, LET ME GO!
DAD NO! DAD, LEAVE ME ALONE! DAD, NO! OH, MY GOD, NO!
NO!
My mom comes rushing in, she says "Please, don't hurt
him" DAD gives her a kick, he slaps her around a bit, he
says: "SHUT UP, YOU BITCH! SHUT UP, YOU BITCH! I'll
KILL YOU! I'll KILL YOU! SHUT UP, I'll KILL YOU!"
DAD keeps hitting mom's face, and there's blood all over the
place I seid, 'Please DAD, please! It es my mistake! I'm the one
that's bad! I'm the one that's bad! Don't hit her DAM Don't hit her
DAD!"
DAD NO! DAD, LEAVE HER ALONE! DAD, LET HER GO! NO!
NO! DAD NO! DAD, LET HER GO! OH, MY GOD! NO! NO!
He want into my sister's room and he locked the
door He seid, "I hate you, but I love you more." I
heard her crying as the light want out I heard her
scream, I had to shout:
DAD NO! DAD, LEAVE HER ALONE! DAD, LET HER GO! NO!
NO! DAD NO! DAD, LET HER GO! OH, MY GOD! NO! NO!
I'm seriously considering leaving home.
09 Metronome (05:37)
I want to break the things that seek
To control, I want to live my life with
No rules at all, I want to smash the
Lips that smile down on me, I want
To rip and teer until I am free
Steady, keep it, steady
METRONOME
I want to touch the places lost deep
Inside, I want to see the ugly faces
That hide, I want to mach down to the
End of what's there, I went to strip
The surface till all is bare
Steady, keep it, steady
METRONOME
I want to jump out of my skin and be
Free, I want to kill the little thing that
Is me, I want to laugh and giggle, I want
To scream, I want to wake up from this
Life crushing dream, I want to wash my
Body bare in the stream, I want to
Liberate this human machine, I want to spit
And grovel I want to shit, I want to
Make you wonder what is it? What
Is it?
You know one thing that I think attracts people
To a steady beat, to a steady beat, is the certainty
Of where it will be, of where it will be, in the next
Moment, its inevitability with no variation, the
Comfort and security of knowing what and who you
are, you hear that beat, you hear that beat, it's
Beating on you, it's beating on me, you hear that beat,
You hear that beat, it's beating on you, it's
Beating on you.
13 Body Bag (04:39)
They say the eyes are the windows of the soul
But i love all the little dark holes n your body bag.
Your little willie, he's oh, so pretty,
And those titties, and those titties in the body bag.
Nobody knows you and nobody wants to.
Willie's poised to dive into flesh,
Something tells me he will leave a mess in the body bag.
When we kiss my eyes are closed,
My lips are full, i breathe through my nose in the body bag.
Nobody knows you and nobody wants to.
See the children play in the mud,
Moulding balls of faces and blood from the body bag.
All praise for corporal flesh;
The smell of love, the smell of death from the body bag.
Is it a womb or is it a tomb?
A sac of water that's quiet and warm,
A complex shape's beginning to form,
On marble slabs you're flat on your back,
All colours fall into the basic black of the body bag.
The creatures of earth are countless and strange,
Open your lips and tell me the name of your body bag.
All praise for corporal flesh.
Carico i commenti... con calma
