È quasi un mistero l’irresistibile attrazione che ha portato alla fine degli anni ’70 inglesi due generi apparentemente opposti come il punk e la musica ska-reggae a incrociarsi e unirsi visceralmente. Sicuramente ha influito l’acceso periodo culturale-musicale, scosso da un ribellismo giovane che, per quanto iconoclasta col passato, voleva aprire tutto a tutti e nel nostro caso desiderava rendere possibile l’idea della “vita rock” per chiunque, di qualsiasi razza, ceto sociale o conto in banca. In questa Inghilterra laburista agitata da nuove libertà possono trovare spazio piccole realtà locali dai fermenti insospettabili, che abbracciano l’etica punk intesa più come la chance di poter “far musica”, di uscire da destini spesso squallidi con l’ausilio di pochi mezzi e qualche buona idea.
In queste periferie se si è disoccupati il colore della pelle non conta più, e le nuove generazioni cominciano a crescere insieme, scambiandosi le qualità, gli amori, i dischi. E se qualcuno aveva avuto la madre patita dei Beatles, altri avevano i nonni emigrati dalle ex-colonie caraibiche, e magari sentivano in casa qualche vecchio vinile degli Skatalities e di Prince Buster. E non fu un caso che il reggae d’ampio respiro di giganti come Bob Marley o Peter Tosh, profeti dai grandi messaggi sociali universali e promotori di un genere molto più tecnico e raffinato, non attecchì molto nel mondo musicale di Sua Maestà. O meglio, veniva celebrato e stimato all’unanimità, ma come fenomeno estraneo, quasi turistico, mentre in patria si provava a recuperare un suono molto più semplice, grezzo, quasi primitivo.
Oltretutto lo ska-reggae era relativamente facile da suonare quanto il punk, e questa scoperta attirò ragazzi emergenti che cominciavano a suonare nei quartieri più poveri le prime canzoni. Si cominciò come ad identificare in questa bizzarra e colorata musica d’oltreoceano “la vena punk” della musica afro-americana. Ad essa vennero perciò incollati con naturalissimi risultati le tematiche sociali tipiche del movimento bianco dell’epoca; ma non si parlava dei problemi da un punto di vista super partes come potevano fare un Jimmy Cliff o i Wailers, questi erano i problemi quotidiani di comuni ragazzi inglesi che vagabondavano per le piccole suburbie di Sheffield o Manchester in cerca di un lavoro o di una donna.
I toni erano meno rabbiosi di quelli delle usuali della protesta, ma ancora più potenti nella loro innocente evidenza; mentre la musica sollecitava tutti a ballare, e nel modo più sfrenato e animalesco (all’inizio è più un dimenarsi che altro), i musicisti diventavano (e spesso lo erano davvero) gli amici che abitavano due isolati dietro casa tua, che per una sera stavano sopra un palco a parlarti di loro, di te, della loro “nuova” musica.
Lo ska-revival fu senza dubbio inaugurato dagli Specials e dalla loro mente, il tastierista/compositore Jerry Dammers, vero Johnny Rotten del genere. Il gruppo di Coventry, stabilizzatosi nel 1977 in una fantastica formazione a sette (cinque bianchi e due neri tra cui Dammers), fecero il loro esordio come open-act dei Clash (che invece si stavano muovendo, assieme ai sempre neonati Police, verso un originale punk-reggae). Fu un inizio esplosivo, dove i nostri introdussero una nuova formula, fatta di storie proletarie e tanta effervescente dancehall: col primo singolo “Gangsters” arrivarono subito le prime offerte dalle major ma Dammers preferì fondare da sé una nuova casa discografica indipendente, per far sviluppare liberamente il proprio gruppo e i tanti epigoni (tra cui Madness, Selecter, English Beat, ecc) che si stavano già facendo avanti. Nacque così la Two-Tone, “due toni”, ovvero il bianco e nero che caratterizzava il look della band (i completi neri con cravatta, occhiali e cappello retrò diventeranno l’uniforme ska) e la grafica “a scacchiera” dei loro lavori, simbolo dell’unione incondizionata di musicisti bianchi e neri. E gli Specials riusciranno con il loro primo omonimo seminale album (prodotto nel 1979 da un naso lungo come Elvis Costello) a parlare di razzismo con un candore e una simpatia così persuasivi da non permettere repliche.
In quarantacinque minuti ci danno solo un assaggio della loro potenza live, fatta di performance entuasiamanti e apparentemente improvvisate data la loro spontaneità. Col fantastico vocalist Terry Hall, accompagnato spesso da duetti e passaggi col chitarrista Lynval Golding e col percussionista Neville Stamples, vengono affrontati i temi più diversi, ma sempre con ironia tipica inglese e il vivido realismo di chi quei fatti li vive o li vede ogni giorno. Dalle amare e deludenti notti in cui tutto sembra far schifo dalla birra alle ragazze di “Nite Klub” dalla violenza urbana di “Concrete Jungle” fino all’inno pro-contraccettivo di “Too Much Too Young” e all’esilarante processo matrimoniale a due voci di “Stupid Marriage”. L’approccio della band è spesso aggressivo e crudo, pungente senza molti giri di parole, come nell’invettiva contro il razzismo “It Doesn’t Make It Alright”: come altre canzoni attirò polemiche sul gruppo, abituato fin dalle prime apparizioni a disappunti da parte della critica, per la loro indomabile ed esplicita voglia di dire a ogni costo quel che secondo loro non andava della società. Ma astutamente gli Specials smorzano i propri toni aspri e disincantati con tre splendide cover che portano un po’ di sole caraibico nel grigiore di un’isola collassata e disorientata. Per questo l’apertura della mitica “A Message To Rudy” di Dandy Livingstone ci pone subito sulla strada giusta, un’atmosfera serena e genuina con cui seguire il resto dell’album; allo stesso modo la successiva “Too Hot” di Prince Buster, seguita a ruota dall’estiva “Monkey Man” dei leggendari Toots & The Maytals, ci serve da indispensabile intervallo ristoratore dopo l’incontenibile energia degli episodi originali. Anche se gli Specials dopo un ottimo e interessante seguito (“More Specials”, 1980) si eclisseranno lentamente, l’eredità di quel periodo indimenticabile, di queste melodie dolci e sognanti, di questi strani musicisti-amici-fratelli, di quell’alchimia magica tra pubblico e rockstar improprie ma bellissime, non ci ha più abbandonato. E continuiamo a ballare su queste stesse note, riflettendo e sorridendo con la voglia di far sapere agli Specials di allora che la realtà non è affatto cambiata e abbiamo ancora bisogno di piccoli eroi come loro.
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 Gangsters (02:48)
Why must you record my phone calls?
Are you planning a bootleg L.P?
Said you've been threatened by gangsters
Now it's you that’s threatening me.
Can't fight corruption with con tricks
They use the law to commit crime?
I dread, dread to think what the future will bring
When we’re living in gangster times.
Don't call me Scarface!
Don't interrupt while I'm talking
Or they'll confiscate all your guitars.
A catch - 22 says if I sing the truth
They won't make me an overnight star.
Don't offer us legal protection
They use the law to commit crime.
I dread to think what the future will bring
When we're living in real gangster times.
03 Nite Klub (03:12)
Is this the in place to be?
What am I doing here?
Watching the girls go by
Spending money on...
Sleep all day
It's the only way
I'm a parasite
I creep about at night.
Night club, is this the in place to be?
Night club, what am I doing here?
Night club, watching the girls go by
Spending money on...
Hey, hey, I don't work
'Cause I don't have to
I don't have to work
There's no, no work to do
Night club, I'm a member of the night club
Night club, A fully paid up member of the night club
I won't dance in a club like this
'Cause all the girls are sluts
And the beer tastes just like piss
I'm a (Night club) parasite
I creep (Night club) about at night.
I'm a member of the night club
A fully paid up member of the night club
Night club, is this the in place to be?
Night club, what am I doing here?
Night club, watching the girls go by
Spending money on beer.
04 Too Much Too Young (02:05)
You've done too much,
Much too young
Now you're married with a kid
When you could be having fun with me
Oh no, no gimme no more pickni
You've done too much,
Much too young
Now you're married with a son
When you should be having fun with me
We don't want, we don't want
We don't want no more pickni
Ain't he cute?
No he ain't
He's just another burden
On the welfare state
You've done too much,
Much too young
Now you're married with a kid
When you could be having fun with me
No gimme, no gimme,
No gimme no more pickni
Call me immature
Call me a poser
I'd love to spread manure in your bed of roses
Don't want to be rich
Don't want to be famous
But I'd really hate to have the same name as you
(You silly moo)
You've done too much,
Much too young
Now you're married with a kid
When you could be having fun with me
Gi we de birth control, we no want no pickni
You've done too much,
Much too young
Now you're chained to the cooker
Making currant buns for tea
Oh no, no gimme no more pickni
Ain't you heard of the starving millions
Ain't you heard of contraception
Do you really a program of sterilization
Take control of the population boom
It's in your living room
Keep a generation gap
Try wearing a cap!
06 Rat Race (03:09)
You're working at your leisure to learn the things you'll need
The promises you make tomorrow will carry no guarantee
I've seen your qualifications, you've got a Ph.D.
I've got one art O level, it did nothing for me.
Working for the rat race
You know you're wasting your time
Working for the rat race
You're no friend of mine
You plan your conversation to impress the college bar
Just talking about your mother and daddy's Jaguar
Wear your political t-shirt and sacred college scarf
Discussing the world's situation but just for a laugh
You'll be working for the rat race
You know you're wasting your time
Working for the rat race
You're no friend of mine
Working for the rat race
You know you're wasting your time
Working for the rat race
You're no friend of mine
Just working at your leisure to learn the things you won't need
The promises you make tomorrow will carry no guarantee
I've seen your qualifications, you've got a Ph.D.
I've got an art O level, it did nothing for me.
Working for the rat race
You know you're wasting your time
Working for the rat race
You're no friend of mine
07 Stereotype (03:49)
He's just a stereotype
He drinks his age in pints
He has girls every night
But he doesn't really exist
He spends his weekends with a load of blokes
He forgets the punchline when he tells a joke
He wants to stay out, he don't want to go home
'Til his nicotine fingers are stuffed down his throat
He's just a stereotype
He drinks his age in pints
He drives home pissed at night
And he listens to his stereo
He blamed his fiancée when he caught VD
The doctor said no drink for seventeen weeks
He wants to go out but he has to stay home
Sit in and watch colour TV on his own
He's just a stereotype
He drinks his age in pints
He drives home pissed at night
And he listens to his stereo
The tablets are finished, the cure is complete
He hasn't had a drink now for seventeen weeks
Seventeen pints, tonight is the night
It goes straight to his head, he ends up in a fight
Police chase him home through the dark rainy night
Fluorescent jam sandwich with flashing blue light
His mums waiting up, she hopes he's alright
But he's wrapped round a lamp post on Saturday night
He's just a stereotype
He drinks his age in pints
He has girls every night
He doesn't really exist
08 International Jet Set (04:12)
Good evening ladies and gentlemen
This is your captain speaking
Welcome aboard DC-10 flight number 1313
We will be cruising at a height of 25,000 feet at an air speed of 600 miles per hour
Headphones will be provided by request for a varied program of in flight music
Have a good flight
Safety belts and sickness bags, jet lag downer pills
duty free booze and fags make me feel ill
A vapour trail from A to B, away from normal sanity
It all seems so absurd to me
I've seen the carpets on the walls of hotels rooms around the world
I never want to hear the screams of the teenage girls in other peoples dreams
Spread the disease, from the south China sea
To the beach hotel Malibu
Phone my girlfriend to ask her "How's her weekend?"
I say "Hi, Terry here", and she says "Terry who, the hell are you?"
The businessmen are having fun are they on a different plane to me
I've lost touch with reality, they all seem so absurd to me
Like well dressed chimpanzees
Spend and spend and spend and spend
Will the muzak never end?
Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking
Due to expected engine failures we will be forced to attempt an emergency landing
Please remain seated, extinguish all cigarettes, and fasten safety belts
Follow the emergency procedures laid out in the pamphlet located in front of your seats
For normal breathing, oxygen masks will be released from the compartment above your head
Please remain calm and follow the instructions of your stewardess at all times
This is a recording...
10 Ghost Town (05:58)
This town, is coming like a ghost town
All the clubs have been closed down
This place, is coming like a ghost town
Bands won't play no more
too much fighting on the dance floor
Do you remember the good old days
Before the ghost town?
We danced and sang,
And the music played inna de boomtown
This town, is coming like a ghost town
Why must the youth fight against themselves?
Government leaving the youth on the shelf
This place, is coming like a ghost town
No job to be found in this country
Can't go on no more
The people getting angry
This town, is coming like a ghost town
This town, is coming like a ghost town
This town, is coming like a ghost town
This town, is coming like a ghost town
11 Why? (03:55)
Why did you try to hurt me?
I got to know
Did you really want to kill me
Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why
Why do we have to fight?
Why must we fight?
I have to defend myself
From attack last night
I know I am black
You know you are white
I'm proud of my black skin
And you are proud of your white, so
Why did you try to hurt me?
Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why
Did you really want to kill me
Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why
We don't need no British Movement
Nor the Ku Klux Klan
Nor the National Front
It makes me an angry man
I just want to live in peace
Why can't you be the same?
Why should I live in fear?
This fussing and fighting's insane
With a Nazi salute and a steel capped boot
A Nazi salute and a steel capped boot
You follow like sheep inna wolf clothes
You follow like sheep inna wolf clothes
We chase you out the dance hall, we chase you through the door
We chase you out the dance hall, we chase you through the door
Cos' we can't take no more of this at all
Cos' we can't take no more of this at all
With a Nazi salute and a steel capped boot
Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why
You follow like sheep inna wolf clothes
Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why
You're too scared to make a speech during the light
Without a thousand police protecting your rights
To threaten and abuse, incite or fight
But who will protect me from you in the night?
Why did you try to hurt me?
Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why
Did you really want to kill me
Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why
With a Nazi salute and a steel capped boot
Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why
You follow like sheep inna wolf clothes
Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why
13 War Crimes (04:00)
Bombs to settle arguments, the order of the boot
Can you hear them crying in the rubble of Beirut?
I can still see people dying, now who takes the blame?
the numbers are different, the crime is still the same
From the graves of Belsen where the innocent were burned
To the genocide in Beirut, Israel was nothing learned?
I can still hear people crying, now who takes the blame?
The numbers are different, the crime is still the same
Bombs to settle arguments, the order of the boot
From the graves of Belsen, to the ruins of Beirut
I can still see people dying, now who takes the blame?
The numbers are different, the crime is still the same
14 Racist Friend (03:46)
If you have a racist friend
Now is the time, now is the time for your friendship to end
Be it your sister
Be it your brother
Be it your cousin or your, uncle or your lover
If you have a racist friend
now is the time, now is the time for your friendship to end
Be it your best friend
Or any other
Is it your husband or your father or your mother?
Tell them to change their views
Or change their friends
Now is the time, now is the time, for your friendship to end
So if you know a racist who thinks he is your friend
Now is the time, now is the time for your friendship to end
Call yourself my friend?
Now is the time to make up your mind, don't try to pretend
Be it your sister
Be it your brother
Be it your cousin or your uncle or your lover
So if you are a racist
Our friendship has got to end
And if your friends are racists don't pretend to be my friend
So if you have a racist friend
Now is the time, now is the time for our friendship to end
16 (What I Like Most About You Is Your) Girlfriend (04:03)
Hello and how are you and how do you do?
And who is that girl standing right next to you?
And what is her name and what does she do?
I'm looking at her while I'm talking to you
Her love must be sweeter than candy
Must be stronger than brandy
Why does she like you not me?
Can I buy you a drink?
You seem a decent chap
I'm friendly to your face but behind your back
What I like most about you is your girlfriend, it's true
Her love must be sweeter than candy
Must be stronger than brandy
Why does she like you not me?
I agree with what you say, I think that it's true
Your girlfriend has only got one fault, that's you
What I like most about you is your girlfriend, it's true
When will we meet again and where will it be?
Why don't you both come over to my house for tea?
I'd rather she came round on her own, yes it's true
Your girlfriend is what I like most about you
What I like most about you is your girlfriend, it's true
What I like most about you is your girlfriend, it's true
What I like most about you is your girlfriend, it's true
What I like most about you is your girlfriend, it's true
Carico i commenti... con calma
