Il 1978 fu un fuoco di paglia.
Con i soliti amici avevo messo in piedi una band. Dopo pranzo ci incontravamo in uno squallido e malmesso garage, in periferia, per suonare o semplicemente ascoltare qualche disco e bere in compagnia le prime birre. Prime perché l'alcol, come le donne, nella mia vita è arrivato tardi. Diciotto anni. Tanti ne avevo compiuti da un pugno di giorni.
Salvatore alla voce, Matteo al basso e Davide, la cui stazza non gli avrebbe certo impedito di militare nella Gabetti Cantù, che si divideva tra la passione per le casse della batteria e la cura del suo acquario di ampullarie. Aveva dato lui il nome alla band: I Tonni. Suonavamo rock'n'roll. O almeno ci provavamo.
Le canzoni le scrivevo io. Io che, in vista di un esame che sembrava non arrivare mai e incapace di decidere del mio futuro, continuavo a mandar giù a memoria dischi degli Stones, di Bowie e del buon vecchio Lou Reed. Erano brutte, forse banali, e parlavano tutte di Alessandra (perché si chiamava Alessandra, non Giulia, sapete?). Lei, meravigliosa e inconsapevole della mia passione, sembrava avere le idee ben chiare: sarebbe diventata una dottoressa. Frequentava uno dei leader del movimento studentesco universitario e, nei ritagli di tempo, si dava alla sperimentazione di droghe di ogni tipo. Ma questa è un'altra storia.
Nel nostro caso suonare in una band certo non aiutava ad avere successo con le donne. Non aiutavano gli occhiali alla Elvis Costello - avrebbe acquistato popolarità di lì a poco - né i capelli tagliati corti. A quei tempi li portavano tutti lunghi. Gli anarchici olandesi della spettacolare nazionale di Neeskens, Rep e Krol. E lunghi li portava anche Mario Kempes, nostro idolo nonché 10 e stella della nazionale argentina che di lì a pochi giorni avrebbe vinto il Mondiale forse più discusso della storia del calcio.
Ma è di Alessandra che parlavamo quel pomeriggio. Il pomeriggio in cui arrivò il punk.
Francesca è la sorella di Matteo. Aveva vent'anni e a torto o ragione ci aveva sempre considerato poco più che bambini troppo cresciuti. Regina incontrastata del nostro immaginario erotico-sessuale, era irritante e tanto carina quanto stronza. Il pomeriggio in cui arrivò, il punk era lei.
Portava con sé un disco che in terra d'Albione era già popolare da qualche mese. Le riviste specializzate ne erano entusiaste e gli addetti ai lavori parlavano di una vera e propria rivoluzione. "Chissà se è la stessa paventata dai leader dei movimenti universitari." Mi domandavo.
Sogghignando della nostra celata resistenza, gli fece spazio spodestando Lloyd, Verlaine e compagni. E' così che per la prima volta nella mia vita ho ascoltato "Never Mind the Bollocks".
Il cantante ricordava il Klaus Dinger degli La Düsseldorf. Lui non era male. Qualche anno dopo avrebbe dato vita ad una band dove la sua voce ben si accompagnava al basso di un eccezionale musicista di nome Jah Wobble. Ma anche questa è un'altra storia.
Ascoltammo in silenzio. Eravamo scossi e quasi spaventati. Proprio non potevamo accettare qualcuno potesse essere più ribelle degli Stones, più allucinato di Bowie, più sporco delle chitarre di Lou Reed e persino più incazzato, violento e perverso di Iggy.
La band si chiamava Sex Pistols ed era londinese. Proprio a Londra Francesca, aveva deciso, sarebbe andata a vivere. L'Italia le andava stretta e del Regno Unito non non le bastava certo la bandiera, con tanto di faccione della Thatcher, posta in bella mostra sul retro della sua minigonna e che sventolava sculettando con femminile sapienza. Lei il punk voleva viverlo.
Spavaldi. Come lei. Così suonavano i Sex Pistols alle nostre orecchie.
Quasi saltai sulla sedia quando il disco smise di girare. Francesca, mostrando i denti, ci rivolse un ultimo perfido sorriso di compiacimento. Dunque si voltò e ci lasciò soli. Pensai che c'era nulla di più punk di una donna che sorride in quel modo. E lo credo tuttora.
Per cinque minuti, forse dieci, nessuno proferì parola né oso muoversi. Avevamo lo sguardo perso nel vuoto ed eravamo altrove. Io pensavo ad Alessandra. La immaginavo a Londra e che a separarci fosse una fitta parete di pioggia incessante e battente. Londra che neanche avevo mai amato. A me piaceva Liverpool. E il Liverpool, il cui miglior giocatore - sì, a quei tempi il calcio occupava una parte importante della mia vita - si chiamava Kenny Dalglish e neanche era inglese ma scozzese. Proprio come Costello. Dovevo fare qualcosa o avrei perso Alessandra per sempre e non c'era alcun sottomarino giallo o ala scozzese che dopo l'avrebbe riportata da me. Cominciai a sentirmi in ritardo.
A questo pensavo quando Matteo si alzò, recuperò il disco fatto fuori dalla sorella nella mia vita precedente e ascoltammo Guiding Light. Tornò il sereno.
Francesca tornò da Londra nel giro di qualche mese. Oggi lavora come assistente in uno studio odontoiatrico. E' una bellissima donna.
Il 1978 fu un fuoco di paglia. Proprio come i Sex Pistols.
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 Holidays in the Sun (03:19)
A Cheap holiday in other peoples misery!
I don't wanna holiday in the sun
I wanna go to new Belsen
I wanna see some history
'Cause now i got a reasonable economy
Now I got a reason, now I got a reason
Now I got a reason and I'm still waiting
Now I got a reason
Now I got reason to be waiting
The Berlin Wall
Sensurround sound in a two inch wall
Well I was waiting for the communist call
I didn't ask for sunshine and I got World War three
I'm looking over the wall and they're looking at me
Now I got a reason, Now I got a reason
Now I got a reason and I'm still waiting
Now I got a reason,
Now I got a reason to be waiting
The Berlin Wall
They're staring all night and
They're staring all day
I had no reason to be here at all
But now i gotta reason it's no real reason
And I'm waiting at Berlin Wall
I'm gonna go over the Berlin Wall
I don't understand this thing at all
I gonna go over and over the Berlin Wall
I'm gonna go over the Berlin Wall
I'm gonna go over the Berlin Wall
Claustrophobia there's too much paranoia
There's too many closets oh when will we fall?
And now I gotta reason,
It's no real reason to be waiting
The Berlin Wall
I gotta go over the Wall
I don't understand this thing at all
It's third rate
Cheap dialogue,cheap essential scenery
I gotta go over the wall
I wanna go over the Berlin Wall
Before me come over the Berlin Wall
I don't understand this bit at all...
I'm gonna go over the wall
I'm gonna go over the Berlin Wall
I'm gonna go over the Berlin Wall
Before me come over the Berlin Wall
I don't understand this thing at all
Please don't be waiting for me
02 Bodies (03:01)
She was a girl from Birmingham
She just had an abortion
She was a case of obscenity
Her name was Pauline she lived in a tree
She was the one who killed her baby
She sent her letters from the country
She was an animal
She was a bloody disgrace !
Mummy
I'm not an animal !
Dragged on a table in a factory
Illegitimate place to be
In a packet in a lavatory
Die little baby SCREAMING !
Mummy
Screamin fucking bloody mess
It's not an animal
It's an abortion
Body I'm not an animal
Mummy I'm not an abortion !
Throbbing squirm gurgling bloody mess
I'm not a discharge
I'm not a loss in protein
I'm not a throbbing squirm
Fuck this and fuck that
Fuck it all and fuck
The fucking brat
She don't wanna baby that looks like that
I don't wanna baby that looks like that
Mummy
I'm not an animal
Mummy
I'm not an abortion
I'm not an animal Mummy !
03 No Feelings (02:48)
Seen you in the mirror when the story began and
I fell in love with you I love yer mortal sin
Your brains are locked away but I love your company
I only ever leave you when you got no money
I got no emotions for anybody else you better understand
I'm in love with myself myself
my beautiful self
A no feelings no feelings for anybody else
Hello and goodbye and a runaround Sue
You follow me around like a pretty pot of glue
I kick you in the head you got nothing to say
Get out of the way cos I gotta getaway
You never realise I take the piss out of you
You come up and see me and I'll beat you black and blue
okay I'll send you away
No feelings for anybody else
except for myself my beautiful self dear
Ain't no moonlight after midnight
I see you stupid people out looking for delight
well I'm so happy I'm feeling so fine
I'm watching all the wankers you wasting my time
I look around your house and there's nothing to steal
I kick you in the head when you get down to kneel
and pray you pray to your god
No feelings, No feelings for anybody else
Your daddy's gone away
be back another day
See his picture hanging on your wall.
04 Liar (02:39)
Lie lie lie lie liar you lie
lie lie lie lie tell me why tell me why
Why d'you have to lie
should've realised that
you should've told the truth
should've realised
you know what I'll do
You're in suspension
you're a liar
How I wanna know know know know
I wanna know why you never look me
in the face
Broke a confidence just to please
your ego
Should've realised
you know what I know
You're in suspension
you're a liar
I know where you go everybody you know
I know everything that you do or say
So when you tell lies
I'll always be in your way
I'm nobody's fool
and I know all 'cos I know
what I know
You're in suspension
you're a liar
you're a liar
you're a liar
A lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie...
Lie lie lie lie
Liar you lie lie lie lie lie
I think you're funny
you're funny
Ha-ha
I don't need it don't need your blah blah
should've realised
I know what you are
you're in suspension
you're in suspension
you're in suspension
you're a liar
you're a liar
you're a lie lie
LIE
05 God Save the Queen (03:17)
God save the queen
The fascist regime
They made you a moron
A potential H bomb
God save the queen
She ain't no human being
And there's no future
In England's dreaming
Don't be told what you want, you want
And don't be told what you need
There's no future, no future
No future for you
God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves
God save the queen
'Cause tourists are money
And our figurehead
Is not what she seems
Oh God save history
God save your mad parade
Oh lord God have mercy
All crimes are paid
When there's no future, how can there be sin
We're the flowers in the dustbin
We're the poison in your human machine
We're the future, your future
God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves
God save the queen
We mean it man
And there's no future
In England's dreaming
No future
No future
No future for you
No future
No future
No future for me
No future
No future
No future for you
No future
No future
No future for you
06 Problems (04:09)
Too many problems oh why I am here
I don't need to be me cos you're all to clear
well and I can see there's something wrong with you
but what do you expect me to do ?
At least I gotta know what I wanna be
don't come to me if you need pity
Are you lonely you got no one
you get your body in suspension that's no
Problem Problems the problem is you
Eat your heart out on a plastic tray
you don't do what you want then you'll fade away
you won't find me working nine to five
it's too much fun a BEING ALIVE
I'm using my feet for my human machine
you won't find me living for the screen
are you lonely all needs catered
you got your brains dehydrated
In a death trip I ain't automatic
you won't find me just staying static
don't you give me any orders
for people like me there is no order
bet you thought you had it all worked out
bet you thought you knew what I was about
bet you thought you solved all your problems
but you are the problem
Problem the problem is YOU
what you gonna do with you
what you gonna do
I'll leave it to you
the problem is you
oh what you gonna do
they know a doctor gonna take you away
they take you away and throw away the key
they don't want you and they don't want me
you got a problem the problem is you
Problem what you gonna do ?
07 Seventeen (02:01)
You're only 29
Got a lot to learn
But when your mummy dies
She will not return
We like noise it's our choice
It's what we wanna do
We don't care about long hair
I don't wear flares
See my face not a trace
No reality
I don't work I just speed
That's all I need
I'm a lazy sod, I'm lazy sod
I'm a lazy sod I'm so lazy
I'm a lazy sod I'm lazy sod
I'm a lazy sod I'm so lazy
I can't even be bothered
Lazy Lazy
09 Submission (04:10)
I'm on a submarine mission for you baby
I feel the way you were going
I picked you up on my tv screen
I feel your undercurrent flowing
Submission going down down
Dragging me down submission
I can't tell ya what I've found
You've got me pretty deep baby
I can't figure out your watery love
I gotta solve your mystery
Your sitting it out in heaven above
Submission going down down
Dragging me down submission
I can't tell you what I've found
For there's a mystery
Under the sea under a water
Come share it
Submission going down down
Dragging me down submission
I can't tell ya what I've found
'Cos it's a secret
Under the water under the sea
Octopus Rock
Got me pretty deep baby
I can't figure out your watery love
I gotta solve your mystery
Your sitting it out in heaven above
Submission going down down
Dragging me down submission
I can't tell ya what I've found
Submission Submission
Going down down under the sea
I wanna drown drown under the water
Going down down under the sea
10 Pretty Vacant (03:15)
There's no point in asking you'll get no reply
Oh just remember a don't decide
I got no reason it's all too much
you'll always find us
Out to lunch !
Oh we're so pretty oh so pretty VACANT
but now AND WE DON'T CARE
Don't ask us to attend cos we're not all there
Oh don't pretend cos I don't care
I don't believe illusions cos too much is real
so stop your cheap comment
cos we know what we feel
We're pretty pretty vacant
We're pretty pretty vay-CUNT
And we don't care
11 New York (03:03)
An imitation from New York
you're made in Japan from cheese and chalk
you're hippy tarts hero cos you put on a bad show
you put on a bad show oh don't it show
Still... out on those pills
Oh do you remenber...
Think it's swell playing Max's Kansas
you're looking bored and you're acting flash
with nothing in your gut you better keep your month shut
you better keep your month shut you're in a rut
Still... out on those pills
Oh do the sambo...
You're four years on you still look the same
I think it's about time you changed you brain
you're just a pile of SHIT you're coming to this
ya poor little FAGGOT
You're sealed with a kiss
Kiss me... Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha
Think it's swell playing in Japan
when everybody know Japan is a dishpan
you're just a pile of SHIT you're coming to this
You poor little FAGGOT
You're sealed with a kiss...
Pills cheap thrills Anadins Aspros anything
you're condemned to eternal bullshit
you're sealed with a kiss
Kiss me...
A kiss a kiss you're sealed with a kiss
A looking for a kiss you're coming to this
I wanna kiss...
You do just about anything
Oh kiss this
Eh boy
12 EMI (03:09)
It's unlimited supply and there is no reason why
I tell you it was all a frame they only did it cos of fame
Who?
EMI EMI EMI
Too many people had the suss, too many people support us
An unlimited amount too many outlets in and out
Who?
EMI EMI EMI
And sir and friends are crucified
A day they wish that we had died
We are an addition we are ruled by none
Never ever ever ever
And you thought that we were faking
That we were all just money making
You do not believe we're for real
Or you would lose our cheap appeal
Dont' judge a book just by the cover
Unless you cover just another
And blind acceptance is a sign
Of stupid fools who stand in line
Like
EMI EMI EMI
Unlimited edition with an unlimited supply
That was the only reason we all had to say goodbye
Unlimited supply EMI
There is no reason why EMI
I tell you you it was all a frame EMI
They only did it 'cos of fame EMI
I do not need the pressure EMI
I can't stand the useless fools EMI
Unlimited supply EMI
Hello EMI Goodbye A and M
Carico i commenti... con calma
Altre recensioni
Di 2+2=5
Resta però incredibile l'urgenza espressiva vomitata senza risparmio da questi ragazzi.
Scardinati, irriverenti, scomodi e fastidiosi... Fondamentali insomma.
Di ngw
I Pistols sono immagini da custodire nella mente, sono roba che va fuori dalla musica.
'Nevermind' fa piazza pulita, è manifesto e nascita: qui comincia davvero tutto.
Di sexyajax
Il punk non è musica ma espressione di se stessi.
L'energia che trasferiscono 'Anarchy In The U.K.', 'Liar', 'No feelings', 'God Save The Queen' e 'Holiday In The Sun' è come una bomba che sta per scoppiare.
Di joe strummer
Non so cosa voglio ma so come ottenerlo, frase capace di riassumere tutto il movimento punk.
Il punk vero morì prima di nascere, perché troppo estremo per esistere.
Di vm
Sex Pistols: quasi dei burattini nelle mani di Malcolm McLaren e Viviane westwood, due geni del marketing.
Come tutto 'Never Mind the Bollocks' è godibile al massimo solo in dimensione live, alias la sua vera natura.
