Accadde che un giorno gli Ohio Players iniziarono con prepotenza a manifestarsi intorno di me.
Forte della mia tutto sommato mediocre conoscenza dell'opus magna di george Clinton, iniziai una sera ad accorgermi che riconoscevo gran parte dei sample della musica gangsta che mi cacciava in macchina un mio amico, adatta colonna sonora per i viaggi lungo quartieri disagio. "Ma gli Ohio Players li conosci? Dr. Dre ha usato spesso loro sample", mi disse lui. Arrivato a casa scoprii che praticamente ogni rappuso aveva usato i Players per le loro basi, da NWA, Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, Ice Cube, Notorius B.I.G. a De La Soul, Public Enemy, Xzibit e Carmen Electra. (Ebbene sì, Carmen Electra ha fatto un album, ma questa è per fortuna un'altra storia).
Da lì in poi iniziarono a comparirmi gli Ohio Players praticamente dappertutto. Mio fratello continuava a guardare quello stupido programma in cui lo chef Gordon macellava stupidi cucinieri yankee: venni poi a sapere che la sigla del programma era "Fire" degli OP. Guardando un pezzo del film di Beavis & Butt-Head vidi i Red Hot Chili Peppers cantare una canzone che non conoscevo: era "Love Rollercoaster" degli Ohio Players. Ascoltavo il mio amato Screaming Life/Fopp dei Soundgarden e vidi che proprio "Fopp", presente in due versioni, era una cover degli OP. Provai a digitare Ohio Players su Google e mi apparvero una serie di copertine, una più ammiccante dell'altra per album dai titoli uno più esplicito dell'altro. Avevo a questo punto il terrore che iniziassero ad apparirmi in sogno gli Ohio Players come Maometto apparve a Laurence Olivier sul film Karthoum: per esorcizzare questa ossessione iniziai ad ascoltarmeli intensivamente, noncurante degli esami di maturità in arrivo.
Ne valse la pena, in effetti: gli Ohio Players, nati già alla fine degli anni '50, iniziarono a scalare le classifiche alla fine degli anni '60 per conoscere un grande successo nei settanta suonando del gran bel funk. Funk nella sua accezione più ruffiana, commerciale, danzereccia e papponizia, ma sempre buona musica. Fire, del 1974, è uno dei loro dischi di maggior successo. L'inizio dell'album è affidato all'omonima "Fire", una delle hit del 1974, cinque settimane in top ten ed inconfondibile nel suo pesante riff di chitarra, introducendo un chiarissimo filo conduttore del fuoco che sarà ripreso in "Smoke", nella Parliamentesca "Runnin' from the Devil" e in "What the Hell", aggressiva ad ossessionante, con tutti gli strumenti che lavorano alla grande. Questa tematica del fuoco la troviamo intrecciata alle classiche ballate romantiche, come nella cinematografica "Together", nella zuccherosa "It's all Over" e nella ben riuscita "I Want to be Free", sette mielosi minuti di ballad che si dipanano tra synth, cori femminili, incisivi giri di basso e notevoli rullate di batteria.
Un buon esempio del funk anni '70 più mainstream quindi, con pezzi potenti ed incisivi e ballatone romantiche che non eccedono in romanticismo da telefilm, come invece accade in altri episodi della discografia OP, decisamente a rischio diabete. Un disco probabilmente troppo catchy per molti degli ascoltatori di oggi, ma anche un disco molto d'atmosfera. Se non l'ho ancora usato come sottofondo per i miei (rari) incontri carnali è solo perché ho paura che mi appaiano nuovamente in visione gli Ohio Players nel momento meno opportuno, con i capelli afro, le uniformi glitterate rosse e, peggio di tutto, la tizia senza capelli in tenuta sadomaso dellacopertina di Rattlesnake. Guardare l'immagine per intero per capire.
Elenco tracce e testi
01 Fire (04:36)
Hey, now, huh-huh
Hey, hey, hey, no, (ow, now)
Hey, now, huh-huh
Hey, hey, hey, no
Fire (uh) (uh)
Fire (it's all about)(uh, uh)
Fire (woo, woo, woo)
Fire
The way you walk and talk really sets me off
To a full alarm, child, yes, it does, uh
The way you squeeze and tease, knocks to me my knees
‘Cause I'm smokin', baby, baby
The way you swerve and curve, really wrecks my nerves
And I'm so excited, child (yeah), woo, woo
The way you push, push let's me know that you're good
(you're gonna get your wish) Oh, yeah
Fire (what I said, child, ow)
Fire (uh-huh)
Got me burnin', burnin', burnin'
Got me burnin', burnin', burnin' (yeah)
Got me burnin', burnin', burnin' (yeah)
Woo...hoo...hoo...baby
Start burnin, burnin' baby
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Burnin, burnin' baby
Oh, baby
When you shake what you got, and girl, you've got a lot
You're really somethin', child, yes, you are
When you're hot you're hot, you really shoot your shot
You're dyn-o-mite, child, yeah
Well, I can tell by your game, you're gonna start a flame
Love, baby, baby
I'm not gon' choke from the smoke, got me tightenin' up my stroke
Do you feel it, girl, yeah
Got me burnin', burnin', burnin'...
04 I Want to be Free (06:54)
You think Oakland California is a city of punks
It only takes a second, to pop the trunk
And just like that you know it's real
You're in the right damn town to get killed
It's all about the game, and nothin else
You come out here, you better watch yourself
Cause you can wear what you want, even blue or red
But cross the wrong brothers, and end up dead
You catch a body full of bullets, and get blasted
Tryin to be a gangsta but you just ain't lastin
This little town is gettin wild as hell
Check the penetentiaries and all the jails
If they could lock us all up that would be just fine
Got my partners from Oakland doin serious time
You can't argue with the truth it's hard to be black
But it's a mindgame, and you gotta deal with that
I wake up everyday and I just can't wait
To make mo money, cause back in the days
when I rapped, I did the same damn thing I do now
Grab the microphone, and show you how
But I was broke, the only thing I had was game
I started makin money and knew things would change
Bought a Benz, thought it might earn respect
But the OPD, found it hard to accept
I got jacked by the Task and jacked by the Vice
Face down on the ground keep my hands in sight
Put the handcuffs on backseat I'm in it
Illegal search for about thirty minutes
Askin me, where's the dope
Where's my gun, but I don't know
I said I'm rappin, they laugh like I told a joke
And to this day they think I'm sellin coke
I want to be free! (and that's the truth) Ohhh yeahhh
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhh
I be in Oakland California every day of my life
bass so hard you think I'm smokin a pipe
And if I don't smoke it, I gots to grind
Searched all my stuff, and all you find
is a pocket full of money count seven G's
Now you wanna think I'm sellin keys
Cause I'm a black man, but I run my own business
So why the police wanna send me to prison
They see a brother makin major cash
They knock a patch out his black ass
And that's the truth, you can't argue you at all
Tryin to give you ten years for a phone call
Ain't even trippin on the dank smoke
Cause all they wanna find, is guns and coke
In court all the time tryin to fight it
We get rich, we get indeibted
So what's the problem Officer this time?
Is havin big money bein black a crime?
Or did you take me to jail, to teach me a lesson
Charge me with somethin, or just ask questions
About the brothers I hang around
What's really goin on in the Oakland town
Tell me who went broke, and who got rich
But Too $hort baby just ain't no snitch
You say you're just doin your job
But you're gettin on my nerves, just like Bob
Everytime I hit a corner, I see you
Always tellin brothers what to do
You lock me up cause I don't know how to act
But I'm down for mine so I be talkin back
And when I do, you treat me bad as hell
I'm sick of spendin nights in jail
I want to be free! (and that's the truth) Ohhh yeahhh
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhh
Got out of jail about fo'-fifteen
Walkin down the street like a broke dopefiend
Had a pocket full of money tryin to play the role
Benz got towed and I was hella cold
But I ain't trippin, I'm gettin used to it now
Handcuffed your boy took me straight downtown
for three warrants, had to catch me sooner or later
Cause the five-oh's always tryin to jack a playa
for no reason, wasn't doin nothin wrong
You think I'm lyin, singin that same ol song
Well I'm a black man, ridin in a Benz
How in the hell did I make these ends? Here we go
I pull over to the right
Stop the engine keep my hands in sight
I start cursin, cause it don't make sense
Why would I run and try to jump a fence
If I was plannin, a smooth getaway
I never woulda stopped in the first place
You'd be high speed chasin me but this time you ain't
Cause all I got on me is a big fat bank
And I hope I don't get robbed by you know who
Make me donate some G's to the boys in blue
And if I sue, I won't get nothin back
But I ain't mad... I'm just black...
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhh
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhh
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhh
I want to be free! Ohhh yeahhh
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