• Voto:
E' bello pensare che dalla "civiltà" hardcore non siano scaturiti solo furore e livore, ma anche divertiti e improbabili accostamenti, recuperi impensati, alchimie miracolose, piccole enciclopedie multi-etniche, satira e demenza. Già i Dickies, a fine anni 70, ci avevano ricordato che l'epopea del punk aveva avuto inizio in maniera tutt'altro che rabbiosa e disgustata: i Ramones puntarono tutto sullo humour, sui non-sense, sull'aspetto più evasivo dell'adolescenza, sulla sana e intelligente idiozia dei collegiali americani. Ma erano altri tempi, altra musica, l'hardcore non esisteva ancora... poco dopo arrivarono gli Angry Samoans, ma il loro era ancora uno stile "old-school", con tutta la strafottenza che era già stata dei Circle Jerks... poi a un certo punto i Camper Van Beethoven si misero a cantare "Club Med Sucks" e l'hardcore scoprì di poter essere anche demenziale. Ed ecco i Vandals, i Dead Milkmen e tanti altri mattacchioni. Che poi erano mattacchioni fino a un certo punto, perché le radici restavano pur sempre hardcore, segnate a vita dall'amarezza, dallo sgomento e, soprattutto, dalla consapevolezza...Ci sarebbero anche i Butthole Surfers, ma confinare la delirante trinità Haynes/Leary/Coffey nell'umile (sia pur sfiziosissimo) piatto dell'hardcore demenziale, mi pare ingeneroso e riduttivo.
Philadelphia (Pennsylvania), 1988. Siamo ancora lì, nella decade d'oro del rock indipendente a stelle e strisce. "Beelzebubba" fu il quarto lavoro di questo stravagante ensemble capace di frullare in irresistibili miniature decenni di tradizioni folk di ogni dove, suonando qualsiasi strumento, approssimandosi così ai mosaici più creativi di band come They Might Be Giants e Young Fresh Fellows (chiedo scusa in anticipo per l'odiosissima carrellata di gruppi misconosciuti, però talvolta il citazionismo è un male necessario: questi gruppi non compaiono nelle enciclopedie di regime, perché non se li fila nessuno, pur avendo fatto canzoni mille vole più orecchiabili di band ben più blasonate, come i Sonic Youth...misteri della critica musicale).
La copertina è il primo capolavoro del disco. Il secondo è "Punk Rock Girl", una delle quadriglie più irrefrenabili che siano mai uscite dal repertorio di una band di punkettoni: ritmo sfalzato, fisarmoniche in allegria e Rodney Anonymous che imita Paperino. Difficile orientarsi nella sfaccettata proposta dei "lattai", perché ogni brano è una riserva di stravaganze e di paradossi.
Gli aromi etnici emergono nella solenne serpentina di "Stuart" e soprattutto in "Bran In The Flat", con cui l'hardcore sbarca sulle coste del Mediterraneo e si lancia in una costipatissima tarantella, a colpi di mandolino. Sul fronte puramente revivalistico, i "graffiti" di "Bad Party" e "Bleach Boys" rievocano i magici 60's.
Ma non sempre il sole splende sopra Philadelphia. La sorridente California dei Camper Van Beethoven è lontana e i Milkmen ce lo ricordano nell'opprimente "Everybody's Got Nice Stuff But Me", in cui dispensano veleno a volontà, mentre "Guitar Song" richiama i Meat Puppets, col suo inizio sommesso, elegiaco, amareggiato, fino al momento in cui il canto si scioglie in un pianto dirotto, mentre un organetto in lontananza ammanta d'epica l'atmosfera di quello che risulta il brano più accorato della rassegna.
Tra i toni ansiosi di "I Walk The Thinnest Line" e quelli spensierati di "Howard Beware", i Milkmen trovano il tempo di resuscitare i gloriosi Big Boys e il loro estroverso funk-core, con gli esuberanti tromboni che addobbano "RC's Mom" e i cambi di tempo brucianti di "Smokin' Banana Peels", impreziosito da un tenero intermezzo sognante ... E "I Against Osbourne" pare uscita da uno dei primi dischi dei Minutemen, tanto è concisa, rabbiosa e spiazzante. "Born To Love Volcanos", elegantissimo e frenetico numero folk-rock, vertice di eleganza, trasognamento, vitalismo, lirismo, con preziosissimi innesti di archi e mandolino, capaci di mantenere un'incredibile coerenza nonostante i numerosi stravolgimenti, è la prova definitiva della competenza strumentale di questa band.
A chiudere questo rutilante luna-park del "varietà americano" è l'inno "Life Is Shit", cantato in coro, sintesi estrema della filosofia di vita di una band che ha saputo riscattare con la fantasia e l'ingegno il nichilismo della propria generazione.
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 Brat in the Frat (01:04)
Hey!
I do not like you college brat
I do not like you and your frat
I do not like you at the shore
I do not like you drunk on Coors
I do not like your average life
I hope you do not take a wife
I hope you don't decide to breed
Cause that's one thing I do not need
I do not like you radical
I hate you and your fancy school
You're wrong about the working class
I hope they kick your Harvard ass
I do not like you world of ours
I'd rather live on planet Mars
And die from lack of oxygen
Than breathe the air of other men
Hey!
02 RC's Mom (02:25)
I'm gonna beat my wife
I'm gonna beat my wife now
Gonna smack her with a lead pipe
Gonna smack her with a 2x4
Run her over with a Brink's truck
Chase her down with a lawn mower
Gonna beat my wife
Look out!
Wife beatin'
Mistreatin'
Wife slappin'
It happens
Gonna beat my wife
Gonna beat your wife
Gonna beat his wife
Gonna beat her wife
Gonna beat my wife
Gonna slap my wife
Gonna kick my wife
Good God, y'all!
Gonna beat my wife
Gonna beat my wife
At the shelter
Helter skelter
Wife kickin'
Finger lickin'
Wife killin'
It's thrillin'
Oh baby please don't beat me, baby
I promise I'll never sleep with the moon in my face no more!
I'm gonna beat my wife
Heh heh heh
03 Stuart (02:20)
You know what, Stuart, I LIKE YOU. You're not like the other
people, here, in the trailer park.
Oh, don't go get me wrong. They're fine people, they're
good Americans. But they're content to sit back, maybe
watch a little Mork and Mindy on channel 57, maybe kick
back a cool, Coors 16-ouncer. They're good, fine people,
Stuart. But they don't know ... what the queers are doing
to the soil!
You know that Jonny Wurster kid, the kid that delivers papers
in the neighborhood. He's a foreign kid. Some of the neighbors
say he smokes crack, but I don't believe it.
Anyway, for his tenth birthday, all he wanted was a Burrow Owl.
Kept bugging his old man. "Dad, get me a burrow owl. I'll never
ask for anything else as long as I live." So the guy
breaks down and buys him a burrow owl.
Anyway, 10:30, the other night, I go out in my yard, and there's
the Wurster kid, looking up in the tree. I say, "What are
you looking for?" He says "I'm looking for my burrow owl."
I say, "Jumping Jesus on a Pogo Stick. Everybody knows
the burrow owl lives. In a hole. In the ground. Why the hell do you
think they call it a burrow owl, anyway?" Now Stuart, do you
think a kid like that is going to know what the queers are
doing to the soil?
I first became aware of this about ten years ago, the summer
my oldest boy, Bill Jr. died. You know that carnival comes into
town every year? Well this year they came through with a ride
called The Mixer. The man said, "Keep your head, and arms, inside
the Mixer at all times." But Bill Jr, he was a DAAAREDEVIL, just
like his old man. He was leaning out saying "Hey everybody,
Look at me! Look at me!" Pow! He was decapitated! They found
his head over by the snow cone concession.
A few days after that, I open up the mail. And there's a pamphlet
in there. From Pueblo, Colorado, and it's addressed to Bill, Jr.
And it's entitled, "Do you know what the queers are doing to our
soil?"
Now, Stuart, if you look at the soil around any large US city,
there's a big undeground homosexual population. Des Moines, Iowa,
for an example. Look at the soil around Des Moines, Stuart.
You can't build on it; you can't grow anything in it. The government
says it's due to poor farming. But I know what's really going on,
Stuart. I know it's the queers. They're in it with the aliens.
They're building landing strips for gay Martians, I swear to
God.
You know what, Stuart, I like you. You're not like the other
people, here in this trailer park.
09 My Many Smells (02:19)
Sometimes I smell like a barrel of rotting fruit
Stinking up the jungle under the hot tropical sun
Other times I smell like thick black swamp-water
Backed into your toilet on a warm summer day
These are a few of my many smells
Won't you come and smell me?
Won't you share my stench?
Won't you come and smell me?
Won't you share my stench?
Once I smelled just like the bathroom
After Grandma'd used it and she's been eating prunes
Other times I smell like a city garbage strike
When all the horseflies grow to 3 inches long
These are a few of my many smells
Won't you come and smell me?
Won't you share my stench?
Won't you come and smell me?
Won't you share my stench?
Sometimes I smell just like death itself
A sickening sweet smell
It can really make you ill
Smell me
Smell me
Smell me
Smell me
See me
Hear me
Touch me
Smell me
Smell me
Smell me
Smell me
Smell me
10 Smokin' Banana Peels (03:47)
Burrow owl burrow owl burrow owl
Smokin' banana peels, see how it feels
Living is easy with ice cubes
The world is swimmin' with electric eels
Talk seriously to me brother
Smokin' banana peels, savin' the seals
There are four me's living all together
Got to keep an even keel
You've got to take life serially
Smokin' banana peels in between meals
I was all pumped up about the iron
Let's all pray get down and kneel
Smokin' banana peels sound like this
Mellow, it's so mellow
Mellow, it's so mellow
No! It's too mellow! ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya
No! It's too mellow! ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya
Mellow, it's so mellow oh oh oh-oh oh
Mellow, it's so mellow
No! It's too mellow! ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya
No! It's so mellow! ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya
Smokin' banana peels, nothin' is real
Mites are living in your eyelashes
People are makin' important deals
They're my fingernails and I'm keeping em
Smokin' banana peels, savin' the seals
(???)
Up and down between your heels
Dip your breasts in shimmering lip balm
Talk to me about Elvis
Take Elvis for walk and shut up
13 Everybody's Got Nice Stuff But Me (02:49)
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Look at that girl she makes me sick
She's got a wad of bills 6 inches thick
Got a brand new stereo a new TV
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
I want a stereo I want a TV
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
People in nice cars how'd they get em?
I close my eyes try to forget em
Went out swimming got hit by a jet-ski
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
I wanna car I wanna jet-ski
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
She's got eyes of deepest blue
He's got hair that's green
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
I wish I had the kind of cash
To make heads turn when I walk past
I wish I could live in luxury
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
I want cash, I want money
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
I want a stereo I want a TV
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
I want a car I want a jet-ski
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
I want hair that's blue or green
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
Everybody's got nice stuff but me
15 Howard Beware (02:28)
Howard beware 'cause we don't wanna hurt you
While the sun is shining, that'd be cruel
Howard beware 'cause we're gonna get you
We know where your kids go to school
Howard Howard beware
Howard Howard beware
Howard Howard beware
Cause you're so easy to scare
You'll hide from the shadows
And everybody knows
Howard beware the Russians they don't like you
Might as well drop the bomb on you
Howard beware the government won't protect you
Like to see you turned into Howard stew
Howard Howard beware
Howard Howard beware
Howard Howard beware
Cause you're so easy to scare
You'll hide from the shadows
And everybody knows
Howard beware the neighbors wanna kill you
Might just all form an angry mob
Howard beware your mother has disowned you
Says that you're a pervert and a slob
Howard Howard beware
Howard Howard beware
Howard Howard beware
Cause you're so easy to scare
You'll hide from the shadows
And everybody knows
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