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Il qui presente e sottoscritto Lorenzo, alias De...Marga... et Genital Grinder, ama in maniera smoderata, esagerata, al limite della malattia i PRAIMUS.
E tale cosa è già stata qualche decina di volte sentenziata e posta per iscritto sulle paginelle debaseriane; sapete altresì che il leader Les Claypool, liberissimi o meno di crederci, risulta da tempo essere un mio nemmeno troppo lontano cugggino. Molte le cose che ci accomunano; prima fra tutte l'odore non proprio idilliaco emanati dai nostri singoli corpi. Del resto si narra che "Primus e De...Marga...Sucks!!!!".
Questa fantasiosa e farneticante introduzione mi serve per introdurre a voi la raccolta che i nostri immettono sulla piazza musicale nella seconda parte dell'anno 2006. Sorta di bignami che va a riaccattare i singoli dati alle stampe dai californiani nella prima parte della loro fantasmagorica carriera; dai tellurici esordi del 1990 fino alla più (s)ragionata psichedelia rovente dell'ultimo brano "Mary the Ice Cube".
Possiedo (Possessed) tutti gli album dello sregolato trio, compreso qualche raro singolo. Ma non mi è importato un bel fico secco e al momento dell'uscita di They Can't All Be Zingers me lo sono accattato nella rara (e costosa) versione in doppio vinilozzo. Che ho al solito consumato, consumato e consumato sul mio impiantino stereo per la (non) gioia del vicinato: perchè la musica dei Primus si ascolta a volume tendente all'assordante.
Da dove comincio questa mia nuova buona novella?
Dalla copertina formaggiosa che ricorda la famosa "Navigazione nei mari di formaggio"; dalle scritte che accompagnano l'artwork e che ci ricordano ancora una volta come la band cerchi sempre l'ironia, il cazzeggio, anche la presa per il culo di noi acquirenti. Ed infatti cose di questo tenore si possono leggere e tradurre, sulla cover, in codesta comica maniera: "Sedici fette di cremosa audio bontà" (come non darti credito mio buon cugggino!!!). Ed ancora: "Nostre classiche canzoni riconfezionate per un vostro pratico ascolto e per il nostro beneficio economico" (Più chiari di così!!!!!!).
Poi arrivano finalmente i brani dove regna l'abituale marasma cosmico, il caos controllato frutto di una tecnica che non ha limiti. Il basso fiocinante e la voce nasale da cartone animato "vivente e vegeto" di Les; la batteria pronta a dettare tempi sincopati e sghembi prima di Tim e successivamente di Brain. Ed in ultimo quella chitarra a tratti svogliata, che sembra dirigersi da tutt'altra parte, che suona a volte in anticipo se non in ritardo rispetto a quanto ci si aspetti: è Larry LaLonde ad occuparsi della sei corde.
Creano così quel suono, quel modus operandi che riprende a mani basse la lezione di mostri sacri quali Zappa, Pink Floyd, Residents, King Crimson, Minutemen, George Clinton...ecc...ecc...ecc...Ne ho volutamente saltato qualcuno.
Ma alla fine solo e soltanto dei Primus si tratta; perchè niente e nessuno ha mai suonato come loro. Così sentenzio da tempo immemore e sono pronto a confermare il tutto anche sotto qualsivoglia tortura.
Perchè "Il mio nome è Fango" e soprattutto "Sono pronto a combattere le leggi della tradizione".
Per coloro i quali sono all'oscuro della vicenda musicale, ancora in atto, dei Primus si consiglia la presa in visione di tale opera d'arte. A piccole dosi perchè creano dipendenza: ne sono certissimo, credetemi...Tu meni (Enrico) Papi...
Ad Maiora.
Elenco tracce e testi
02 John the Fisherman (03:37)
One...two...
One, two, three, four.
When he was young
You'd not find him doing well in school.
His mind would turn unto the waters.
Always the focus of adolescent ridicule,
He has no time for farmer's daughters.
Alienated from the clique society,
A lonely boy finds peace in fishing.
His mother says,
"John, this is not the way life's supposed to be."
"Don't you see the life that you miss?"
And he says...
When I grow up I want to be,
One of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done,
I want to be a fisherman.
Now years gone by we find the man who rules the sea.
He sets out on a dark May morning.
To bring his catch back to this small community.
He doesn't see the danger dawning.
Four hours up, oh the ocean swelled and swelled,
The fog rolled in it started raining.
"The starboard bow! Oh my God we're going down!"
They do not hear his frantic mayday.
And he says...
When I grow up I want to be,
One of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done,
I want to be a fisherman.
"I'll live and die a fisherman."
Calling John the Fisherman...
03 Too Many Puppies (03:58)
Too many puppies are being shot in the dark.
Too many puppies are trained not to bark.
At the sight of blood that must be spilled so that we may maintain
our oil fields.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies are taught to heel.
Too many puppies are trained to kill.
On the command of men wearing money belts that buy mistresses
sleek animal pelts.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies with guns in their hands.
Too many puppies in foreign lands.
Are dressed up sharp in suits of green and placed upon the war
machine.
Too many puppies are just like me.
Too many puppies are afraid to see.
The visions of the past brought to life again,
too many puppies, too many dead men.
04 Jerry Was a Race Car Driver (03:11)
Jerry was a race car driver
He drove so goddamned fast
He never did win no checkered flag
But he never did come in last
Jerry was a race car driver
He'd say "El solo number one"
With a bocephus sticker on his 442
He'd light 'em up just for fun
Captain Pierce was a fireman
Richmond engine #3
I'll be a wealthy man when I get a dime
For all the things that man taught to me
Captain Pierce was a strong man
Strong as any man alive
It stuck in his craw
That they made him retire at the age of 65
"Dog will hunt"
Jerry was a race car driver
22 years old
Had too many cold beers one night
And wrapped himself around a telephone pole
06 Tommy the Cat (04:14)
" well I remember as though it were a meal ago"
Said Tommy the Cat as he reeled back to clear whatever foreign matter
may have nestled its way into his mighty throat.
Many a fat alley rat had met its demise while staring point blank down
the cavernous barrel of this awesome prowling machine.
Truly a wonder of nature this urban predator.
Tommy the cat had many a story to tell,
But it was a rare occasion such as this that he did.
She came slidin' down the alleyway like butter drippin' off a hot biscuit.
The aroma, the mean scent, was enough to arouse suspicion in even the
oldest of Tigers that hung around the hot spot in those days.
The sight was beyond belief.
Many a head snapped for double - even triple - takes as this vivacious
feline made her her way into the delta of the alleyway where the most
virile of the young tabbys were known to hang out.
They hung in droves. Such a multitude of masculinity could only be
found in one place...
And that was O'malley's Alley.
The air was thick with cat calls (no pun intended),
But not even a muscle in her neck did twitch
as she sauntered straight into the heart of the alleyway.
She knew what she wanted.
She was lookin' for that stud bull, she was looking for that he cat.
And that was me.
Tommy the Cat is my name and I say unto thee...
Say baby do you wanna lay down with me
Say baby do you wanna lay down by my side
Ah baby do you wanna lay down with me
Say baby?...Say baby?
07 My Name Is Mud (04:45)
My name is Mud
Not to be confused with Bill or Jack or Pete or Dennis
My name is mud and it's always been
'Cause I'm the most boring sons-a-bitch you've ever seen
I dress in blue-yes navy blue
From head to toe I'm rather drab except my patent shoes
I make 'em shine, well most the time
'Cept today my feet are troddin' on by this friend of mine
Six foot two and rude as hell
I got to get him in the ground before he starts to smell
My name is Mud
My name is Mud, but call me Aloysius Devadander Abercrombie
That's long for Mud so I've been told
Told that by this sonsabitch that lies before me bloated blue and cold
I've got my pride, I drink my wine
I'd drink only the finest 'cept I haven't earned a dime in several months
Or were it years
The breath on that fat bastard could bring any man to tears
We had our words, a common spat
So I kissed him upside the cranium with that aluminum baseball bat
My name is Mud
09 DMV (04:56)
I've been to hell. I spell it...
I spell it DMV
Anyone that's been there
knows precisely what I mean
Stood there and I've waited
and choked back the urge to scream
And if I had my druthers
I'd screw a chimpanzee
call it pointless
When I need relief I spell it THC
Perhaps you may know vaguely what I mean
I sit back and smoke away
huge chunks of memory
As I slowly inflict upon
myself a full lobotomy
call it pointless
Barbecues, tea kettles, gobs of axle grease
There comes a time for every man
To sail the seas of cheese
Now, life's a bowl of bagel dogs,
but there are unpleasantries
Cold toilet seats, dentist chairs
and trips to DMV
call it pointless
I've been to hell. I spell it...
I spell it DMV
Anyone that's been there knows
precisely what I mean
I've stood in line and waited
near an hour and fifteen
And if I had my druthers
I'd screw that chimpanzee
call it pointless
10 Over the Electric Grapevine (06:23)
They headed southward from San Francisco,
To be with Chuckles and the others.
With electric in the air and peroxide in their hair,
They looked like golden brothers.
They drove a Datsun, an automatic,
The radio blaring static,
He made a face into the light
and burst out laughing at the sight.
The hysteria ensuing would dominate the night.
From all the candy, the seats were sticky,
As they were drawn into the grapevine.
Then "Introduce Yourself" came on
as they barreled through the gog.
The demon puffing madly on a mentholated log.
They were tired, they were sleepy,
So they parked behind the Roxy.
Adam left to use the phone, so he sat there all alone,
When Adam's voice come beaming through on the radio,
He started laughing...
12 Southbound Pachyderm (06:23)
Quite a surprise
What an ingenious device
Boredom encompasses my time
I don't know what I should do
Indulging a moment of your time
Seldom the breeder of lies
But you won't believe that it's true
They take to the sky
Southbound Pachyderm
Pinholes through cardboard
At the Sun
Passing the bucks by one by one
Leaving nothing in return
Watching the majest blow past
Speculating which will be the last
Savoring my piece of pie
And there is no reprise
They're filling the sky
Southbound Pachyderm
13 Over the Falls (02:41)
They broke out in laughter again
His lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in
And he stood by and waited to be called
The talk was of times that'd gone by
And the quantity and quality of women they lie
His eyes welled with wet and his mouth had gone dry
As he stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls
He got up and tried it again
For lack of persistence is surely a sin
As he stood by and waited to be called
He looked to the lightning with glee
And admired his vessel for its symmetry
Feeling twelve units shy of a bachelor's degree
As he stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls
Carico i commenti... con calma
