• Voto:
C'è quest'uomo sotto quest'ombrello tentacolare, dentro una foto sbiadita che una volta era in bianco e nero, mentre ora è solo in grigio chiaro e grigio scuro. E' solo, per la strada sterrata non c'è nessuno e lui, dentro il suo pastrano nero e le mani in tasca, guarda a sinistra, oltre l'orizzonte intrappolato dalla foto. Guarda oltre e sembra sereno, forse solo pensieroso, ma talmente pensieroso da non darlo a vedere..
"Non ho sposato un uomo, ho sposato un mulo"
Un mulo con del catrame bollente e vibrante in gola, cazzo.
Un mulo che, da qualche parte nell'immensa campagna americana, si siede su una seggiola di legno mezza scassata e registra un disco; così, perchè gli va. Ha un paio di pezzi pronti, chiama qualche amico storico e registra, magari con le galline che gli scorrazzano in mezzo ai piedi. Ne escono fuori queste fotografie sgranate e traballanti, questi negativi violentati dal sole, questi ricordi cha sanno di Bourbon e sigarette, ottimi compagni per qualche rimpianto sopito e malinconico.
Si mette seduto sotto un portico e racconta.
Racconta come gli è sempre venuto naturale.
Racconta di cigli della strada, di case abbandonate, dove non ci vive più nessuno, che sembrano abitate dai fantasmi, le finestre rotte, le vernici scrostate e gli uccellini nel camino. Racconta dei suoi viaggi intorno al mondo e delle strade che ha preso, sperando che il suo pony sappia riportarlo a casa; ci tira direttamente dentro il tendone di un circo per farci vedere il bambino senza corpo e con solo un occhio che fa impazzire le donne; si commuove per Georgia Lee, trovata morta in un boschetto, quando la notte era fredda, la terra era dura e lei troppo giovane per essere sulla strada. Si arrovella la testa sul suo vicino, si chiede cosa diavolo stia costruendo la dentro, fra strani rumori, aggeggi, lamenti...
Ci racconta tutto questo con la sua musica, che, questa volta come non mai, ondeggia fra rock distorti e sbraitati ("Big in Japan", "Filippino Box Spring Hog") ballate per piano ubriaco ("House Where Nobody Lives", "Picture In A Frame") e blues gracchianti che sembrano essergli stati sussurrati dalle miti colline indorate di grano della vecchia America ("Chocolate Jesus", "Cold Water", "Black Market Baby"). La sua voce scoppia, saltella, sibila, sbraita, sussurra, si impenna, sa accarezzare e allo stesso tempo spaventare; la sua voce diventa lo strumento per eccellenza in queste canzoni, il filo conduttore di queste mille storie, la bomba carta e il clarinetto di cui sono intrisi i versi di questi pezzi.
Per queste sue "Mule Variations", Waits torna indietro nel tempo, ritorna all'America delle radio enormi e a valvole, ai circhi, ai paesi di campagna, ai film in bianco e nero, alle cascine, agli animali, al silenzio di una vita vissuta in modo tranquillo, ai ritmi di 40 anni fa, se non di più; ritorna al canto delle piantagioni di cotone, alla semplicità delle cose, all'ingenuità, alle stranezze dei paesini sperduti fra i campi, ritorna ai raccolti e agli spaventapasseri, ai cartelli stradali sgangherati e dispersi e alla polvere, al tabacco da masticare, alle estati torride e agli inverni da geloni ai piedi; ritorna al Blues, al canto ferito di chi non ha più nulla e continua a cantare, ritorna alle sue radici con una foga e un'ispirazione mai viste prima.
Quando finisce "Come On Up To The House" e tutto è finito, lui è lì, col cappello in mano, fra i campi, mentre tutto si sta oscurando, come in quei vecchi film, quando, alla fine, l'inquadratura si annerisce e compare la scritta "The End". Questa volta guarda dritto davanti a sè, ma è gia proteso ad andare, a partire un'altra volta, a lasciare di nuovo tutto.
Lui se ne va, se tu vuoi seguirlo, bene, se vuoi rimanere lì, fai pure, lui di certo non ha cantato per te.
Elenco tracce testi samples e video
01 Big in Japan (04:05)
I got the style but not the grace
I got the clothes but not the face
I got the bread but not the butter
I got the winda but not the shutter
But I'm big in Japan I'm big in Japan But heh I'm big in Japan
I got the house but not the deed
I got the horn but not the reed
I got the cards but not the luck
I got the wheel but not the truck
But heh I'm big in Japan I'm big in Japan I'm big in Japan
I got the moon I got the cheese I got the whole damn nation
On its knees I got the rooster I got the crow
I got the ebb I got the flow
I got the powder but not the gun
I got the dog but not the bun
I got the clouds but not the sky
I got the stripes but not the tie
But heh I'm big in Japan I'm big in Japan I'm big in Japan
Heh ho they love the way I do it
Heh ho there's really nothing to it
I got the moon I got the cheese
I got the whole damn nation on their knees
I got the rooster I got the crow
I got the ebb I got the flow
I got the sizzle but not the steak
I got the boat but not the lake
I got the sheets but not the bed
I got the jam but not the bread
But heh I'm big in Japan I'm big in Japan I'm big in Japan
I'm big in Japan, I'm big in Japan
03 Hold On (05:33)
They hung a sign up in our town
"If you live it up, you won't live it down"
So she left Monte Rio, son
Just like a bullet leaves a gun
With her charcoal eyes and Monroe hips
She went and took that California trip
Oh, the moon was gold, her hair like wind
Said, 'Don't look back, just come on, Jim'
Oh, you got to hold on, hold on
You gotta hold on
Take my hand, I'm standing right here
You gotta hold on
Well, he gave her a dimestore watch
And a ring made from a spoon
Everyone's looking for someone to blame
When you share my bed, you share my name
Well, go ahead and call the cops
You don't meet nice girls in coffee shops
She said, 'Baby, I still love you'
Sometimes there's nothin' left to do
Oh, but you got to hold on, hold on
Babe, you gotta hold on
And take my hand, I'm standing right here
You gotta hold on
Well, God bless your crooked little heart
St. Louis got the best of me
I miss your broken China voice
How I wish you were still here with me
Oh, you build it up, you wreck it down
Then you burn your mansion to the ground
Oh, there's nothing left to keep you here
But when you're falling behind in this big blue world
Oh, you've got to hold on, hold on
Babe, you gotta hold on
Take my hand, I'm standing right here
You gotta hold on
Down by the Riverside motel
It's 10 below and falling
By a 99 cent store
She closed her eyes and started swaying
But it's so hard to dance that way
When it's cold and there's no music
Oh, your old hometown's so far away
But inside your head there's a record that's playing
A song called 'Hold On', hold on
Babe, you gotta hold on
Take my hand, I'm standing right there
You gotta hold on
You gotta hold on, hold on
Babe, you gotta hold on
Take my hand, I'm standing right there
You gotta hold on
You gotta hold on, hold on
Babe, you gotta hold on
And take my hand, I'm standing right here
You gotta hold on
You gotta hold on, hold on
Babe, you gotta hold on
And take my hand, I'm standing right here
You gotta hold on
You gotta hold on
You gotta hold on
You gotta hold on
You gotta hold on
You gotta hold on, baby
You gotta hold on, girl
You gotta hold on
You gotta hold on
04 Get Behind the Mule (06:52)
Molly be damned smote Jimmy the Harp
With a horrid little pistol and a lariat
She's goin to the bottom
And she's goin down the drain
Said she wasn't big enough to carry it
She got to get behind the Mule
In the morning and plow
She got to get behind the Mule
In the morning and plow
She got to get behind the Mule
In the morning and plow
She got to get behind the Mule
In the morning and plow
Choppity chop goes the axe in the woods
You gotta meet me by the fall down tree
Shovel of dirt upon a coffin lid
And I know they'll come lookin for me boys
And I know they'll come a-lookin for me
Got to get behind the Mule
In the morning and plow
Got to get behind the Mule
In the morning and plow
Got to get behind the Mule
In the morning and plow
Got to get behind the Mule
In the morning and plow
Big Jack Earl was 8'1
He stood in the road and he cried
He couldn't make her love him
Couldn't make her stay
But tell the good Lord that he tried
(Chorus)
Dusty trail from Atchison to Placerville
On the wreck of the Weaverville stage
Beaula fired on Beatty for a lemonade
I was stirring my brandy with a nail boys
Stirring my brandy with a nail
(Chorus)
Well the rampaging sons of the widow James
Jack the cutter and the pock marked kid
Had to stand naked at the bottom
Of the cross
And tell the good lord what they did
Tell the good lord what they did
(Chorus)
Punctuated birds on the power line
In a Studebaker with the Birdie Joe Joaks
I'm diggin all the way to China
With a silver spoon
While the hangman fumbles with the noose, boys
The hangman fumbles with the noose
(Chorus)
Pin your ear to the wisdom post
Pin your eye to the line
Never let the weeds get higher
Than the garden
Always keep a sapphire in your mind
Always keep a diamond in your mind
(Chorus)
07 Pony (04:32)
I've seen it all, boys --
I've been all over.
Been everywhere in the whole wide world.
I rode the high line with ol' Blind Darby.
I danced real slow with Ida Jane.
I was full of wonder when I left Murfreesboro --
Now I am full of hollow on Maxwell street.
And I hope my pony
I hope my pony
I hope my pony
Knows the way back home.
I walked from Nachez to Hushpukena --
I built a fire by the side of the road.
I worked for nothing in a Belzoni saw mill.
I caught a blind out on the B and O
Talullah's friendly Belzoni ain't so
A 44'll get you 99.
And I hope my pony
I hope my pony
I hope my pony
Knows the way back home.
I run my race with burnt face Jake --
Gave him a Manzanita cross.
I lived on nothing but dreams and train smoke
Somehow my watch and chain got lost.
I wish I was home in Evelyn's kitchen
With old Gyp curled around my feet.
And I hope my pony
I hope my pony
I hope my pony
Knows the way back home.
10 Eyeball Kid (04:26)
Well Zenora Bariella
And Coriander Pyle
They had sixteen children
In the usual style
They had a curio museum
And they had no guile
All they ever wanted
Was a show biz child
So on the 7th of Dec. 1949
They got what
They'd been wishing for
All of the time
He grew up in a trailer
By the time he was 9
He rolled off to join
The circus... telling fortunes
On the side
Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid
Well the first time I saw him
Was a Saigon jail
Cost me 27 dollars
Just to go his bail
I said your name will
Be in lights...
And that's no doubt
But you got to have
A manager that's what
It's all about
People would point
People would stare
I'll always be here
To protect you and to
Cut down on the glare
I know you can't speak
I know you can't sign
So cry right here on
The dotted line
Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid
Well he was born with out a body
Not even a brow
I made the kid a promise
I made the kid a vow
He's not conventionally handsome
He'll never be tall
He said "all you got to do is
Book me into Carnegie Hall"
Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid
He's just a little bitty thing
He's just a little guy
But women go crazy
For the big blue eye
They say how does he
Dream? How does he think
When he can't ever speak
And he can't ever blink?
I said Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid
Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid
Give it up and throw me down
A couple of quic
Everybody wants to see
The Eyeball kid
How dies he dream
How does he think
When he can't even speak
And he can't even blink
We are all lost in the
Wilderness we're as
Blind as can be
He came down to teach us
How to really see
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
So give it up and throw
Me down a couple of quid
Everybody wants to see
The Eyeball kid
Eyeball kid
Eyeball kid
11 Picture in a Frame (03:39)
Ever since I put your picture.
Sun come up it was blue and gold
Sun come up it was blue and gold
Sun come up it was blue and gold
Ever since I put your picture
In a frame.
I come calling in my Sunday best
I come calling in my Sunday best
I come calling in my Sunday best
Every since I put your picture
In a frame
I'm gonna love you
Till the wheels come off
Oh yeah
I love you baby and I always will
I love you baby and I always will
I love you baby and I always will
Ever since I put your picture
In a frame
14 Filipino Box Spring Hog (03:09)
Well I hung on to Mary's stump
I danced with a soldier's glee
With a rum soaked crook
And a big fat laugh
I spent my last dollar on thee
I saw Bill Bones, gave him a yell
Kehoe spiked the nog
With a chain link fence
And a scrap iron jaw
Cookin up a Filipino Box Spring hog
Spider rolled in from
Hollister Burn
With a one-eyed stolen Mare
Donned himself with chicken fat
Sawin on a jaw bone violin there
Kathleen was sittin down
In little reds recovery room
In her criminal underwear bra
I was naked to the waist
With my fierce black hound
And I'm cookin up a Filipino Box Spring Hog
Cookin up a Filipino Box Spring Hog
Cookin up a Filipino Box Spring Hog
Dig a big pit in a dirt alley road
Fill it with madrone and bay
Stinks like hell
Don't give a hoot what they say
Slap that hog
Gotta roll em over twice
Baste him with a sweeping broom
You gotta swat them flies
And chain up the dogs
Cookin up a Filipino Box Spring Hog
Cookin up a Filipino Box Spring Hog
Rattle snake piccata with grapes and figs
Old brown Betty with a yellow wig
Tain't the mince meat filagree
And it ain't the turkey neck stew
And it ain't them bruleed
Okra seeds though she
Made them especially for you
Worse won a prize for her
Bottom black pie
The beans got to thrown to the dogs
Jaheseus Christ I can always
Make room when they're
Cookin up a Filipino Box Spring Hog
Cookin up a Filipino Box Spring Hog
Cookin up a Filipino Box Spring Hog
17 Buzz Fledderjohn (04:14)
I stood on the roof, stood toward dark
To get a better look at the Fledderjohns’ lawn
Big sharp pistols, ammo too
Nothing but books about World War II
Rottweiler, Dobermann, a Pinkerton guard
I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed
I said, I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I seen a python swallowing a Dobermann whole
Piranhas swimming in a mixing bowl
Buzz Fledderjohn
Paper’s full of stabbings, the sky’s full of crows
She’s singing in Italian while she’s hanging out her clothes
Carp in the bathtub and it’s raining real hard
I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I said that I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard.
Well, the sailor’s ringing doorbells, the sinner’s in the pew
Weathervane’s squeaking to the west
I seen the cliffs of Dover and the deepest ocean blue
One thing in the world I can’t recommend to you
Because I ain’t allowed
I said, I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I said, I ain’t allowed
No, I ain’t allowed
I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
I ain’t allowed
I ain’t allowed
I said, I ain’t allowed in Buzz Fledderjohn’s yard
Music Lyrics by: Tom Waits
Official release: “Hold On”, Anti Inc., 1999
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Altre recensioni
Di AR (Anonima Recensori)
Non ho sposato un uomo... ho sposato un mulo.
Tom pi ù calmo e riflessivo ma di grande impatto fin dal primo ascolto.
Di Paolos
Un capolavoro assoluto, contiene 16 pezzi dal suono 'sporco e sbilenco' ma tutti animati da una forza musicale irresistibile.
"Why wasn’t God watching? Why wasn’t God listening? Why wasn’t God there for Georgia Lee?" — una canzone colossale che lascia esterrefatti.
Di Morgan
Con la sua voce dissacrante e rilassante allo stesso tempo, mi immagino di stare in mille mondi.
"Mule Variations" è un insieme di brani violenti e romantici, la sua voce aspra ed aggressiva in "Big in Japan" e calma ed accogliente in "Hold On".
