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Pensate a CocoRosie come a una bambolina.
Una bambola, sì, di quelle eleganti e dall’aspetto antico. Ha un viso angelico ed è capricciosa, e quando piove, lì a Parigi, lei si rintana a canticchiare nella sua cameretta a Montmartre, nella casa dei sogni di due sorelle newyorchesi che si sono ritrovate dopo tanti anni di lontananza.
Ascoltando La Maison De Mon Rêve, immaginate di essere lì, dietro la porta della cameretta, ad origliare la musica della bambolina CocoRosie. Ecco, è proprio così che vi giungerà alle orecchie: tutt’altro che limpida. O come da un grammofono, che fa tanto jazz, con tutti i fruscii del caso, che fanno tanto lo-fi.
Sentirete strani suoni-giocattolo, una chitarra acustica, dei drumbeat incerti, e due voci intriganti, sottili e ironiche. Affascinanti, come la loro musica dolcemente perversa, che con così pochi (e primitivi) strumenti mette insieme tanti elementi in modo semplice e inebriante. Blues, trip-hop, gospel, jazz e lo-fi danzano su melodie lente e nude, che sembrano riemergere, universali, dalla prima metà del ‘900… “By Your Side” e “Good Friday”, stupende.
La Touch and Go, presentando la “casa da sogno” dipinta dalle sorelle Cassady nel 2004, dice che “Sierra canta e suona la chitarra e il flauto, Bianca canta e fa percussioni (sbatte oggetti, fa fare squeak alle cose, scuote una catena d’oro)”. La prima viene dal canto (spiritual e opera), la seconda dalla poesia. Un debutto capolavoro.
Elenco tracce testi e samples
01 Terrible Angels (04:10)
If every angel's terrible
Then why do you welcome them
If every angel's terrible
Then why do you welcome them
If every angel's terrible
Then why do you welcome them
You provide the bird bath
I provide the skin
And bathing in the moonlight
I'm to tremble like a kitten
If blue eyed babes
Raised as hitler's little brides and sons
They got angelic tendencies
Like some boys tend to act like queens
Oh if every angel's terrible
Then why do you watch her sleep
You love to hear her sing
And wear purple eyes like rings
Well the flowers have no scent
And the child's been miscarried
Oh every angel's terrible
Said freud and rilke all the same
Rimbaud never paid them no mind
But jimmi morrison had his elevators
His elevators
He had his elevator angels
If every angel's terrible
Why do you hide inside her
Like a child in a skirt
The supermarket's loud and bright
And boy don't she feel warm tonight
Boy don't she feel warm tonight
Boy don't she feel warm tonight
If every angel's terrible...
02 By Your Side (03:59)
I'll always be by your side
Even when you're down and out
I'll always be by your side
Even when you're down and out
I just wanted to be your housewife
All i wanted was to be your housewife
I'll iron your clothes
I'll shine your shoes
I'll make your bed
And cook your food
I'll never cheat
I'll be the best girl you'd ever meet
And for a diamond ring
I'll do these kinds of things
I'll scrub your floor
Never be a bore
I'd tuck you in
I do not snore
I'd wear your black eyes
Bake you apple pies
I won't ask whys
And i try not to cry
I'll always be by your side
Even when you're down and out
I'll always be by your side
Even when you're down and out
And its nearly midnight
And all i want with my life
Is to be a housewife
Is to be a housewife
'Cause it's nearly midnight
And all i want with my life
Is to die a housewife
Is to die a housewife
04 Good Friday (04:23)
I once fell in love with you
Just because the sky turned from gray
Into blue
It was a good friday
The streets were open and empty
No more passion play
On st. Nicholas avenue
I believe in st. Nicholas
Its a different type of santa clause
08 Butterscotch (03:08)
Black widow and white wood
The darkness of a forest eerily returns
To stagger drunk like mud
Taking swings at your woman
Run!!!
Why does butterscotch taste so good
And we can't have any
But we must we should
Why does sugar cane taste so good
Even though sugar can only do ya harm
You remind me of baseball
Tow trucks and the movies
Look sweet as to deliver me milk
Almost frozen on those wintry mornings
Don't slip mr. Mail man
Watch out for my dog!!!
Why does kissin' you feel so good
Even though it ain't alowed
I know we shouldn't should
Why does holdin' hands feel so right
Got a bruise on my pinky ring from holdin' too tight
Black diamonds swoon the corner
Make it sparkle
Its all for sale
Pushin' snow on the summer kids
Lewd remarks lowering
Lick the lips mischievous
Lick the lips mischievous
Skittles are the rainbow
And every color's popular though
Red gets the most invitations
To the jr. High celebrations
And i'll go alone i don't care
'Cause rainbow's not my favorite color
I'll go alone i don't care
It's not my favorite color
Why does butterscotch taste so good
And we can't have any
But we must we should
And why does sugar cane taste so good
Even though sugar can only do ya harm
I'll go alone i don't care
It's not my favorite color
Black widow and white wood
10 Madonna (03:49)
Miss madonna won't you give me a kiss
One of your soft sweet lagrimas
Miss madonna won't you give me a kiss
One of your soft sweet lagrimas
Oh miss madonna won't you please give me a kiss
Give me one of those soft sweet lagrimas
'Cause i felt your pain
When your baby was slain
And i tossed some roses to perfume his grave
Oh miss madonna won't you let me underneath your halo
'Cause it's raining hard
Raining hard in this abyss
Miss madonna...
Oh miss madonna where you goin' after work
In that preacher's car
You know o won't tell nobody
That you've been smoking cigars
I won't tell nobody
Tell nobody
That you've been smoking cigars
Miss madonna...
12 Lyla (04:03)
You wanted to buy me
For a hundred euro
You said you'd take me
To your little car
Your friend lived near by
He had a house and all
Where was i from you said
You guessed yugoslavia
Well it's not yogoslavia
It's not yugoslavia at all
It reminded me
Of a movie i just saw
About a little girl
From yugoslavia
She got sent away
They made her prostitute
She ate mcdonald's all day
And never had a chance to play
Lyla
You wanted to buy me
For a hundred euro
You said you'd take me
To your little car
Your friend lived near by
He had a house and all
Where was i from you said
You guessed yugoslavia
But it's not yugoslavia
It's hardly yugoslavia at all
Lyla
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Altre recensioni
Di coltre
CocoRosie, e subito il cervello entra dentro un appartamento parigino fatto di fumo e giochini per bambini.
Qualcosa di nuovo c'è in giro, effimero e tanto potente da farti rimanere dentro al primo divano che trovi per sentire fin dove ti può portare tutta questa ispirazione...
Di O__O
"Mai avrebbero immaginato che dal loro giocare sarebbero nate alcune delle più belle melodie degli anni 2000."
"Voci angeliche, provenienti da un altro mondo, dolcemente sospirate o emanate come poesia, un flusso di suoni che prendono colore."
