• Voto:
La vetta in partenza di carriera, anche in questo caso, avviene pure con i Tindersticks, opera monumentale, 23 pezzi, 23 capolavori, opera rock infarcita di un decadentismo abbagliante, huysmansiano nell'anima, rivestito di romantici ardori, di velato erotismo, di mistero insostenibile. Solo col secondo lavoro (suppur inferiore a questo) si ripeteranno a livelli così alti.
Per addentrarsi al meglio in questo disco sarebbe necessario comprendere la parola “Spleen”: è una parola inglese che significa milza, l’organo che, nella teoria degli umori di Ippocrate, secerne la bile nera, responsabile del carattere malinconico. Lo “spleen” potrebbe essere male esistenziale e fisico assieme; ma non è tutto, in esso si fondono la noia, l’angoscia e i turbamenti profondi dell’artista, potrebbe essere a conti fatti quella brezza interna che seccerne l’ispirazione.
I Tindersticks sono pregni di questo spleen, è possiedono il raro dono di scrivere grandi canzoni, ora di largo respiro come “Jism” che parte con delle immense e voluttuose vampate d’organo per poi concatenarsi in saliscendi introspettivi di rara bellezza; ora di un intimismo disarmante come in “Patchwork”, mesta lullaby per strimpellio di chitarra emozionale, ora di un fasto e guitto barocco come in “The Not Knowing”, mantenendo di volta in volta intatto un gusto altissimo per la forma e per gli arrangiamenti, con gli archi che enfatizzano brillantemente ogni soluzione armonica (pochi dischi rock hanno saputo usare gli archi in modo così lussureggiante).
Lo spettro delle soluzioni stilistiche è sconfinato, c’è perfino un flamenco, “Her”, che suona prepotente, delirante, carico d’eros e stravaganza con un coro di appetitose ninfee Monetiane salite dall’inferno a dar lustro alle pantomime Fellinian-lussuriose del gruppo.
Fascinose le atmosfere morbose che riescon a creare come in “Whiskey and Water” dove le sincopi dark battenti esplodono in fragorosi flash hard rock e derive psichedeliche di gran suggestione.
A predominare sono le tinte forti fino a stordire per accumulazione di pulsioni strumentali come in “Tyed”, “City Sickness”, “Milky Teeth” e “Tie Dye”; ed ancora: le atmosfere caliginose di “Raindrops”, una delle più luccicanti canzoni mai scritte, con xilofoni a catinelle su un tema ripetitivo di pianoforte; il pop orchestrale anni 50 di "Sickness", danno un tocco di raffinatezza al tutto.
Si ha come l’impressione che queste esecuzioni siano adombrate dagli spettri che si ergono spaventosi di Nick Cave (principale fonte d’ispirazione credo), Leonard Cohen e Tom Waits, i 3 mostri sacri dello spleen d’autore.
Quel che abbiamo di fronte mentre la magnificenza dell’ascolto prosegue è di un gruppo dedito all’esecuzione di salmi per bordelli frequentati da filosofi e uomini di profonda cultura, artisti col fuoco sacro dell’ispirazione attorniati da sante e da puttane (i confini sono labili); dove le sante sono le Madonne del Munch, le cosiddette Madonne “puttane” (dal suo dipinto del 1893) o le fanciulle vergini come quella di “Puberty” sempre di Munch, in veste di oggetti sacrificali d’intrattenimento che irradiano immagini simboliche Stendhaliane per le solipsistiche masturbazioni oniriche dell’ensemble.
La voce di Stuart Staples è quella dell’artista interiormente dilaniato, la sua cadenza moscia , fatalista e pigra come di un Chris Isaak intorpidito da un sonno spezzato.
I Tindersticks ascoltati qui sono un gruppo piovuto dallo spazio ad abitare un Settecento di panopticon e automi, freaks e cimici, intenti ad estrarre dal buco nero del passato miti di trasgressione e cerimoniali kitsch.
Verso la fine con pezzi sinistri quali “Drunk Tank” o “Paco De Renaldo’s Dream” pare di scivolare in un incubo privato, con cadenze da colonna sonora di un noir-horror, si ha, se non altro, più che l'estetica ultraromantica del decadentismo, la sublimazione del kitsch decadente, dato che ogni partitura è stata un delirio che si affidava a tutte le forme di farnetico. Il kitsch catapulta l'eccezionalità aristocratica dei soggetti in questione in un gioco di specchi dove ogni cosa è labile nei confronti del suo opposto, mischiando immemori e strippati di estasi intenti nobili ed intenti spregevoli, un kitsch senza volontà di potenza non avrebbe senso e questa, a mio parere, è la grande differenza con il cattivo gusto: al cattivo gusto manca l'interesse per l'elevazione nella costrizione, sia sociale che culturale. Il cattivo gusto è statico.
Buon ascolto.
Elenco tracce testi samples e video
05 Blood (04:52)
Was there once something so pure
That left me whole and precious?
But now, broken, wondering
Why this new ingredient?
Everything I crave I become
Everything I left forgotten
Everything I love I become
Cos that's what happens when you reach the bottom
Chorus:
Where does the blood go?
It runs away from broken lives
Where does the blood go?
It runs away from broken lives
There's an ugly crowd here beside me
They specialise in violations
Once they numbered only a handful
Grew out the ashes of what we had good
There'll be another awkward scene tonight
Quickly averting our eyes
When we see what there is left of
(chorus)
Our love hangs here beside us
From it's feet, twitching, desperate
The juice that splash our white boots
Now they're matted and confused
There'll be another ugly scene tonight
As we refuse to accept the obvious
We panic and jump up and down
Trying to suck those last breaths
(chorus)
06 City Sickness (04:00)
I'm crawling, don't know where to or from
The centre of things from where everything stems
Is not where I belong
And the city sickness, growing inside me
So this is where I ran for freedom
Where I may not be free
Chorus:
I have these hands beating with love for you
And you're not here to touch
Sent you away, what else can I do
When I need something that much?
I'm hurting babe, in the city there's no place for love
It's just used to make people feel better
It's not like us
I got this sickness as I got off the train
Now it chafes away at my heart
Until nothing remains
(chorus)
I'm okay afterwards
Afterwards lasts for minutes only
I'm okay during
You kind of fill up my mind
It's just that before, may last forever
It's just that before, may just f**k my mind
(chorus)
07 Patchwork (04:40)
I know it's wrong
I know it's selfish
You've so little time
You know this pattern
Patchwork of any direction
Cobbled together
In odd shape and size
Take my hand, we'll walk through this together
But my hand gets sweaty
You somehow slip away
Try to call you, but I don't call too loud, no
Try to love, and never look that hard
Chorus:
Cos this blue's a swirling ocean
The green, the ambition
The red is the guilt
There's a lot of red
I know it's wrong
I know it's selfish
Such a short life
So little time
Try to call you, but I don't call too loud, no
Try to love, but never look that hard
(chorus)
The yellow is my sunshine
Comes out on odd occasion
Barely enough to keep you around
08 Marbles (04:30)
Her haircut, she looked virtually [ ? ]
In that dress growing ever tighter
It was saddening the lengths she had gone to
To appear more attractive
In the process losing something
We never knew but still missed
You knew you were lost as soon as you saw her
You saw your life as a series of complicated dance steps
Impossible to learn, they had to come naturally
Together you squirmed and wriggled
And I could only jerk along behind
Chorus:
They're going to hurt you
They always will
She is now with me, inside of you
And I could only stare wide-eyed
As everything closed in around the three of us
Things you never saw, talking of the power and rescue (? )
(chorus)
She opened the door his face bruised and swollen
Before he knew, pushed, falling down curved stairs
Our message lost and our plans forgotten
Surrounded by men in suits, and black shiny shoes
Moving in, kicking, stamping
Bland expressionless faces
A handful of marbles thrown in a dustbin
Memories, memories
(chorus)
In a northern town there were amazing [ ? ] stones arranged on the southern slope
They got out in the last few seconds of consciousness
Look for their inscriptions one day, the most distant ocean plains, those who make the desert island
I saw you in a tin bath in red water
Were the ones who went to washington to do their laundry
They wanted to see the mysterious hurricane
I never believed in new york, or where you intended to stand
But we don't actually want to see the shipwrecked
I just had to go
They came
10 Milky Teeth (02:52)
You know I'm a kisser
I wanted you for that mouth
Hey you know I'm a listener
I loved you for what came out
It's your mind and your body
That makes me feel so dirty
And it's my mouth
What comes out
What comes out
You say you love me when I'm sleeping
It's the sleep of the innocent
But in my sleep, I'm still faking
If you could only see what that meant
You think my body is clean now
It's stretching out in your tub
But the more you soak me
The more I wonder what comes out
What comes out
Those teeth, they look so milky
You would trust them with your neck
Like a kitten and it's mother
Just secure you and fear no fall
These teeth, they are breaking
As they close around your scruff
You look my way, your smile opens
And I wonder about what comes out
What comes out
What comes out
What comes out
What comes out
12 Jism (06:03)
If she'd have known
She'd have shown me
I need to taste her pain
For encouragement
If she'd have known
She'd have shown me
I need to taste her pain
For accomplishment
See, I can only take it out on you
There's no-one else I can trust
See, I can only take it out on you
There's no-one else but us around
You hide these things so well
There's no finding
You hide these things so well
There's no finding, no finding
These runs into the blue
There are no edges
How do I know where you are now?
These paper cuts
Need those gravel grind
Need those pictures to wake me
Give up the drugs
Take the power I offer
Oh the deeper I go
The further I fall
The more I know
The tighter your grip around me
So easily broken
Running down your skin
And the pain runs into the blue
If there's ever anyone else, I'll understand
And kill them
And I'll overflow your every inlet
You will not cough and spit
You awoke from the end
And I tell you with my tongue between your toes
If there's ever anyone else
Don't let them do this
And I'll laugh and revel
As you scratch and crawl
If there's ever anyone else
Just show them the ugly mess
You hide these things so well
There's no finding
You hide these things so well
There's no finding, no finding
14 Tie-Dye (04:00)
The sheet that was cut
Caught the blood
Was opened
The sheet that was cut
Caught the blood
Was opened and dried
Sheet that was cut and caught the blood
Was opened and dried
And stretched out
Sheet that was cut and caught the blood
Was opened, dried and stretched out
Hung on the wall
The sheet that was cut
Caught the blood
Was opened
The sheet that was cut
Caught the blood
Was opened and dried
Sheet that was cut and caught the blood
Was opened and dried
And stretched out
Sheet that was cut and caught the blood
Was opened, dried and stretched out
Hung on the wall
15 Raindrops (06:15)
Silence is here again
The silence is here again tonight
Will the love ever come back?
Will the love ever come back?
I know I've been pushing you away
I know it's been going on for days
Those awkward little things
So endearing
Those awkward little things
Wear on me
See, what we got here is a tired love
What we got here is a lazy love
It mooches around the house
Can't wait to go out
What it needs, it just grabs
It never asks
We sit and watch the divide widen
We sit and listen to our hearts crumble
With our only chance to jump
Neither of us had the guts
Maybe we're just too proud
To say it out loud
Silence is here again tonight
Silence is here again tonight
19 Drunk Tank (04:44)
OK...1,2,3,4....)
How you doing tonight?
Pull the blankets tight
The drunks shout outside your window
Light scrapes across your wall
Think of me
It never goes away
Think of me, I know
It never goes away
How you doing tonight?
I don't wanna fight
Just walked these miles
To be passing by
Just to say
That I'm okay
For you to see the state of me
I know I said
We'd better get home to bed
And I was the one
I always stayed out so late
Always forgiving
My inconsideration
It's a different story
When you can never go home again
I'm home, home again
My hands came back today
Finally set themselves free
No more fists on the end of my arms
Just these hands, trembling
Think of me
It never goes away
Think of me
The way I used to be
I know I said
We'd better get home to bed
And I was the one
I always stayed out so late
Always forgiving
My inconsideration
It's a different story
When you can never go home again
I'm home, home again
Carico i commenti... con calma
