Randy Newman rappresenta, nel panorama del rock pop, un caso decisamente a sé.
Nato in una famiglia di musicisti (nipote del compositore Alfred Newman), il giovane Randy esordisce componendo i temi della serie televisiva Peyton Place.
Caustico, cinico e ironico nel dipingere storie e personaggi delle sue canzoni, nel settembre del '77 pubblica “Little Criminals”. Rispetto ai precedenti lavori arrivano le chitarre elettriche, le orchestrazioni e le collaborazioni di rilievo (in particolare con i membri degli “Eagles” perfetti nelle armonie vocali in “Rider in the Rain”).
Le canzoni sono irriverenti, trasognate e il sound del pianista losangelino prende a piene mani da Gershwin per dare vita a canzoni che sono spesso dei racconti trasposti in musica.
Da “Short people”, divertente quanto fraintesa, a “Texas Girl at the Funeral of her Father”, l'album attraversa il blues, la musica da film, il ragtime ed il country.
Randy Newman proseguirà la sua carriera come fortunatissimo compositore di colonne sonore (da “Risvegli” alla saga di “Toy Story”) alternandola ad album sempre interessanti e pregni di sarcasmo e dileggio nei confronti della società, della storia e dell'umanità intera, con la grande consapevolezza di essere parte di quella umanità.
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01 Short People (02:57)
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason to live
They got little hands
Little eyes
They walk around tellin' great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes on their nasty little feet
Well I don't want no short people
Don't want no short people
Don't want no short people 'round here
(Short people are just the same as you and I)
A fool such as I
(All men are brothers until the day they die)
It's a wonderful world
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody to love
They got little baby legs
They stand so low
You gotta pick 'em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars that go "beep, beep, beep"
They got little voices goin' "peep, peep, peep"
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They're gonna get you every time
Well, I don't want no short people
Don't want no short people
Don't want no short people 'round here
05 Jolly Coppers on Parade (03:49)
They're comin' down the street.
They're comin' right down the middle.
Look how they keep the beat!
Why, they're as blue as the ocean!
How the sun shines down!
How their feet hardly touch the ground!
Jolly coppers on parade.
Here come the black-and-whites.
Here come the motorcycles.
Listen to those engines roar!
Now they're doin' tricks for the children.
Oh, they look so nice!
Looks like angels have come down from Paradise!
Jolly coppers on parade.
Oh, mama!
That's the life for me!
When I'm grown
That's what I want to be.
They're comin' down the street.
They're comin' right down the middle.
Look how they keep the beat!
Comin' through the heart of the city.
Oh, it's all so nice!
Just like angels have come down from Paradise!
Jolly coppers on parade.
Jolly coppers on parade.
06 In Germany Before the War (03:42)
In Germany before the war
There was a man who owned a store
In nineteen hundred thirty-four
In Düsseldorf
And every night at five-o-nine
He'd cross the park down to the Rhine
And he'd sit there by the shore
I'm looking at the river
But I'm thinking of the sea
Thinking of the sea
Thinking of the sea
I'm looking at the river
But I'm thinking of the sea
A little girl has lost her way
With hair of gold and eyes of gray
Reflected in his glasses
As he watches her
A little girl has lost her way
With hair of gold and eyes of gray
I'm looking at the river
But I'm thinking of the sea
Thinking of the sea
Thinking of the sea
We lie beneath the autumn sky
My little golden girl and I
And she lies very still
08 Baltimore (04:05)
Beat-up little seagull
On a marble stair
Tryin' to find the ocean
Lookin' everywhere
Hard times in the city
In a hard town by the sea
Ain't nowhere to run to
There ain't nothin' here for free
Hooker on the corner
Waitin' for a train
Drunk lyin' on the sidewalk
Sleepin' in the rain
And they hide their faces
And they hide their eyes
'Cause the city's dyin'
And they don't know why
Oh, Baltimore
Man, it's hard just to live
Oh, Baltimore
Man, it's hard just to live, just to live
Get my sister Sandy
And my little brother Ray
Buy a big old wagon
Gonna haul us all away
Livin' in the country
Where the mountain's high
Never comin' back here
'Til the day I die
Oh, Baltimore
Man, it's hard just to live
Oh, Baltimore
Man, it's hard just to live, just to live
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Di alcol2
Figlio del cuore come della testa, buffo e acuto come il suo creatore.
Food for thought.
