Il Gordon che duetta con Shaggy e tenta di esprimersi all’Ariston con un italiano da vero gentleman affogato nell’infinità della sua inadeguatezza non sono ciò di cui voglio rendere testimonianza. Per me Ten Summoner’s Tales è LA voce di Sting e la sua definitiva prova di maturità. D’altronde erano anni travagliati per il nostro eroe, come per il sottoscritto. Ero in procinto di superare il mio primo anno di età, voglio vedere se riuscite a sostenere il contrario. Insomma la sua voce più calda che mai, tinte jazz elegantissime e per una volta non pretenziose, volte ad un pop adatto alla sana crescita di un poppante qual ero. Tutto ciò in qualche modo lo ricordo. Mi ricordo le gite fuori porta, scorribande sul porto di Oneglia durante splendide giornate invernali. C’è qualcosa che ricordo e si trova nella potenza di Vinnie Colaiuta e nella sua maestria di condurre i tempi misti, nel contributo di un Eric Clapton altrettanto distrutto dalla vita, nella presenza irrinunciabile e mai ingombrante di David Sanborn. Un disco per veri palati fini, per me il migliore.
“If I Ever Lose My Faith in You” è l’inizio perfetto. Un brano semplice e squisito eppure così blasonato e osannato dalla critica. “Love is Stronger Than Justice”, un prosieguo da me mai troppo apprezzato per quanto mostri un rock/soul di indubbio valore, una sorta di tributo al miglior Stevie Winwood. Probabilmente possiede quel groove in ritmo inafferrabile che da bambino il mio cervello crucco non sapeva sopportare. Un brano destinato a migliorare come il vino.
“Fields of Gold”, la ballad di fine secolo. Quanti pianti negli anni a venire. Non ha bisogno di presentazioni neanche per i pochi stolti neofiti di Gordon che mi stanno leggendo, per cui non vado oltre. “Heavy Cloud No Rain” ha il calore della sua voce incorporato; apparentemente un brano di appoggio per gli altri, eppure è il più suo localmente parlando. Ed è un magnifico esempio di compostezza e originalità nella strumentazione. Passiamo per la carica blues melanconica e potente di “She’s Too Good for Me”, per l’ennesimo stratagemma (comunque splendido e musicalmente impeccabile) chiamato “Seven Days”, del tipo “quando il mio taccuino non attira a sé nuove liriche, tanto vale puntare sui giorni della settimana, che qualcosa esce sempre fuori”. Giungiamo quindi al nuovo funky/jazz in tempi misti che dà valore al batterista turnista più prolifico di sempre. “Saint Augustine in Hell” si interrompe con un macabro monologo di un improvvisato Caronte. “It’s Probably Me”, I have to say it. Si tratta del brano più immensamente squisito degli anni 90 così intimisticamente poppettoni, insieme ai due successivi. “Everybody Laughed But You” è infatti un ulteriore esempio di perfezione strumentale. Ed io mi chiedo, interrompendo questo strano elenco, cosa rendeva così semplice, in quegli anni, proporre una melodia efficace che allo stesso tempo richiamasse ad atmosfere di secoli addietro? Come faceva quella scimmia urlatrice dei Police (detto con amore immenso) ad attraversare i secoli con tale immediatezza e semplicità. I musicologi si stanno ancora arrovellando su questo dibattito. Per fortuna possono continuare a dibattere tranquillamente sullo stesso argomento ancora a lungo. Finché il gusto musicale sarà un concetto superato. Il gusto musicale. Il risveglio di questo senso, insieme a tutti gli altri, avviene ora alla massima potenza. Infatti vado un attimo nel limbo di tutti coloro che non vivono in questo pianeta perché sono indaffarati ad ascoltare “Shape Of My Heart”. La scrittura rinascimentale/tardo romantica, probabilmente inaccostabile, che era stata annunciata negli esempi precedenti, ottiene qua la sua espressione più pura. Un brano storico, stranamente sottovalutato nella costellazione di singoli di quest’album, eppure così vivido in noi tutti, in ogni musicista illustre o meno che non sa resistere a riproporlo o rivisitarlo, in ogni focolare a cui aggiungi una chitarra e quell’intro. Lo Sting di noi tutti, quello che non si discute.
“Something The Boy Said” e “Nothing ‘bout me” sono una chiusura perfetta, quasi a smorzare i toni e accompagnarti alla dolce fine di un capitolo di vita. In particolare l’ultimo mi ha recentemente dato di nuovo un sorriso che non si spegne fino alla fine della giornata. Inizialmente sembra una ballata pop banalissima seppur tanto easy da listen, tipo Celentano di pochi anni fa. Appena si annuncia il ritornello il piano elettrico sfonda le pareti modulando sui toni jazzistici che hanno accompagnato il percorso finora compiuto. Un altro esempio di scrittura musicale magistrale. “You still know nothing ‘bout me”, infatti, pensavo mi stessi prendendo in giro. Invece c’è sempre da imparare sui propri idoli. Spazio a riflessioni su chi possa lui essere oggi. Su quanto il mercato ci chieda. Su quanto il mercato già gli chiedesse allora. Di sicuro so che, per me, il vero Sting è tutto in queste dodici splendide tracce.
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 If I Ever Lose My Faith in You (04:32)
You could say I lost my faith in science and progress
You could say I lost my belief in the holy church
You could say I lost my sense of direction
You could say all of this and worse, but
If I ever lose my faith in you
There'd be nothing left for me to do
Some would say I was a lost man in a lost world
You could say I lost my faith in the people on T.V.
You could say I'd lost my belief in our politicians
They all seem like game show hosts to me
If I ever lose my faith in you
There'd be nothing left for me to do
I could be lost inside there without a trace
But every time I close my eyes, I see your face
I never saw no miracle of science
That didn't go from a blessing to a curse
I never saw no military solution
That didn't always end up as something worse,
But let me say this first
If I ever lose my faith in you
If I ever lose my faith in you
There'd be nothing left for me to do
There'd be nothing left for me to do
If I ever lose my faith
If I ever lose my faith
If I ever lose my faith
If I ever lose my faith in you
03 Fields of Gold (03:44)
You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold
So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold
Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
You forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold
See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold
Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You forget the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
05 She's Too Good for Me (02:32)
She don't like to hear me sing
She don't want no diamond ring
She don't want to drive my car
She won't let me go that far
She don't like the way I look
She don't like the things I cook
She don't like the way I play
She don't like the things I say
But oh the games we play
She's too good for me
She's too good for me
She don't like the jokes I make
She don't like the drugs I take
She don't like the friends I got
She don't like my friends a lot
She don't like the clothes I wear
She don't like the way I stare
She don't like the tales I tell
She don't like the way I smell
But oh the game we play
She's too good for me
She's too good for me
Would she prefer it if I washed myself more often than I do
Would she prefer it if I took her to an opera or two
I could distort myself to be the perfect man
She might prefer me as I am
She don't want to meet my folks
She don't want to hear my jokes
She don't want to fix my tie
She don't even want to try
She don't like the books I read
She don't like the way I feed
She don't want to save my life
She don't want to be my wife
But oh the games we play
She's too good for me
She's too good for me
07 Saint Augustine in Hell (05:07)
If somebody up there likes me somebody up there cares
Deliver me from evil save me from these wicked snares
Not into temptation, not to cliffs to fall
On to revelation, and lesson for us all
She walked into the room on the arm of my best friend
I knew whatever happened our friendship would end
Chemical reaction, desire at first sight
Mystical attraction, turned out all my lights
The minute I saw her face the second I caught her eye
The minute I touched the flame I knew it would never die
The minute I saw her face the second I caught her eye
The minute I touched the flame I knew it would never die
I don't know if it's pain or pleasure that I seek
My flesh was all too willing, my spirit guide was weak
I was deadly certain thoughts for me weren't kind
A switchblade in his pocket, murder on his mind
Blessed St. Theresa; the whore of Babylon
Madonna and my mother; all rolled into one
You've got to understand me, I'm not a piece of wood
Francis of Assisi could never be this good
The minute I saw her face the second I caught her eye
The minute I touched the flame I knew it would never die
The minute I saw her face the second I caught her eye
The minute I touched the flame I knew it would never die
Relax, have a cigar, make yourself at home. Hell is full of high court
judges, failed saints. We've got Cardinals, Archbishops, barristers,
certified accountants, music critics, they're all here. You're not alone.
You're never alone, not here you're not. OK break's over.
The less I need the more I get
Make me chaste but not just yet
It's a promise or a lie I'll repent before I die
The minute I saw her face the second I caught her eye
The minute I touched the flame I knew it would never die
The minute I saw her face the second I caught her eye
The minute I touched the flame I knew it would never die
08 It's Probably Me (04:59)
If the night turned cold and the stars looked down
And you'd hug yourself on the cold cold ground
You wake the morning in a stranger's coat
No one would you see
You ask yourself, who'd watched for me
My only friend, who could it be
It's hard to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
When your belly's empty and the hunger's so real
And you're too proud to beg and too dumb to steal
You search the city for your only friend
No one would you see
You ask yourself, who'd watched for me
A solitary voice to speak out and set me free
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
You're not the easiest person I ever got to know
And it's hard for us both to let our feelings show
Some would say I should let you go your way
You'll only make me cry
Well if there's one guy, just one guy
Who'd lay down his life for you and die
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
(guitar solo)
When the world's gone crazy and it makes no sense
There's only one voice that comes to your defense
And the jury's out and your eyes search the room
And one friendly face is all you need to see
And if there's one guy, just one guy
Who'd lay down his life for you and die
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me (echo)
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me (echo)
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me (echo)
09 Shape of My Heart (04:40)
He deals the cards as a meditation
And those he plays never suspect
He doesn't play for the money he wins
He doesn't play for respect
He deals the cards to find the answer
The sacred geometry of chance
The hidden law of a probable outcome
The numbers lead a dance
I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that's not the shape of my heart
He may play the jack of diamonds
He may lay the queen of spades
He may conceal a king in his hand
While the memory of it fades
I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that's not the shape of my heart.
That's not the shape, shape of my heart.
And if I told you that I loved you
You'd maybe think there's something wrong
I'm not a man of too many faces
The mask I wear is one
Those who speak know nothing
And find out to their cost
Like those who curse their luck in too many places
And those who fear are lost
I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that's not the shape of my heart
That's not the shape of my heart
That's not the shape, shape of my heart.
10 Something the Boy Said (05:15)
When we set out on this journey
There were no doubts in our minds
We set our eyes to the distance
We would find what we would find
We took courage from our numbers
What we sought we did not fear
Sometimes we'd glimpse a shadow falling
The shadow would disappear
But our thoughts kept returning
To something the boy said as we turned to go
He said you'll never see our faces again
You'll be food for a carrion crow
Every step we took today
Our thoughts would always stray
From the wind on the moor so wild
To the words of the captain's child
Something the boy said
In the circles we made with our fires
We talked of the pale afternoon
The clouds were like dark riders
Flying on the face of the moon
We spoke our fears to the captain
And asked what his son could know
For we would never have marched so far
To be food for a crow
Every step we took today
Our thoughts would always stray
From the wind on the moor so wild
To the words of the captain's child
Something the boy said
When I awoke this morning
The sun's eye was red as blood
The stench of burning corpses
Faces in the mud
Am I dead or am I living?
I'm too afraid to care, I'm too afraid to know
I'm too afraid to look behind me
At the feast of the crow
We spoke our fears to the captain
And asked what his son could know
For we would never have marched so far
To be food for a crow
Something the boy said
11 Epilogue (Nothing 'bout Me) (03:39)
Lay my head on the surgeon's table
Take my fingerprints if you are able
Pick my brains, pick my pockets
Steal my eyeballs and come back for the sockets
Run every kind of test from A to Z
And you'll still know nothing 'bout me
Run my name though your computer
Mention me in passing to your college tutor
Check my records, check my facts
Check if I paid my income tax
Pore over everything in my C.V.
But you'll still know nothing 'bout me
You'll still know nothing 'bout me
You don't need to read no books on my history
I'm a simple man, it's no big mystery
In the cold weather, a hand needs a glove
At times like this, a lonely man like me needs love
Search my house with a fine tooth comb
Turn over everything 'cause I won't be at home
Set up your microscope and tell me what you see
You'll still know nothing 'bout me
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Altre recensioni
Di boyintheocean
"Fields of Gold, una dolce ballata a cui gli arpeggi di chitarra conferivano un'atmosfera mistica."
"Ten Summoner's Tales convince già dal primo ascolto, grazie alle emozioni che sa regalare."
