Apparenza e realtà

Hey hey hey, the end is near!
On a good day,
you can see the end from here.
But I won’t turn back, now,
though the way is clear;
I will stay for the remainder.

I saw a life, and I called it mine.
I saw it, drawn so sweet and fine,
and I had begun to fill in all the lines,
right down to what we’d name her.

Our nature does not change by will.
In the winter, ’round the ruined mill,
the creek is lying, flat and still;
it is water,
though it’s frozen.

So, ‘cross the years,
and miles, and through,
on a good day,
you can feel my love for you.
Will you leave me be,
so that we can stay true
to the path that you have chosen?

e dentro un mondo di ovatta. Mentre i seguaci dell’imbianchino -quello famoso- si moltiplicano per le nostre strade, linko un video dei To Rococo Rot.

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Mi dicono che i siti che associano secondo parametri quantitativi i brani musicali accostano invariabilmente Avril Lavigne ai Minutemen. Occorre altro per dimostrare l’involontaria ironia del mondo in cui ci troviamo? Ma qualcuno la cogliera’, questa ironia?

Was a long and dark December
From the rooftops i remember
There was snow
White snow

Clearly i remember
From the windows they were watching
While we froze down below

When the future’s architectured
By a carnival of idiots on show
You’d better lie low

If you love me
Won’t you let me know?

Was a long and dark December
When the banks became cathedrals
And the fog
Became God

Priests clutched onto bibles
And went out to fit their rifles
And the cross was held aloft

Bury me in honor
When i’m dead and hit the ground
A love back home unfolds

If you love me
Won’t you let me know?

I don’t want to be a soldier
With the captain of some sinking ship
With snow, far below

So if you love me
Why’d you let me go?

I took my love down to violet hill
There we sat in snow
All that time she was silent still

So if you love me
Won’t you let me know?

If you love me,
Won’t you let me know?

Mi chiedo come sia possibile associare il ricordo del miglior concerto mai visto con quello di una musica che non mi piace. Eppure e’ cosi’. Ricordo una serie di serate al Piper di Roma. Ero sempre li’, con il mio trench nero macilento e un patetico taccuino in mano. Dovevano essere i primissimi anni ’90. Ricordo, tra gli altri, i Primal Scream. Bevis Frond. E ricordo i Cardiacs. Psichedelia, progressive, punk frullati in modo piuttosto fastidioso. Con tanto di sassofono, lo strumento da me piu’ odiato. Ma il concerto fu entusiasmante, molto piu’ di quanto testimoniato dal video di youtube. Anche questo puo’ succedere.

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