Back in New York City

le copertine di una volta. logo figo e tutto bellissimo. come non comprare questo disco?

Non si sa ancora cosa ha assunto Peter Gabriel per scrivere queste assurdità. Comunque fighe.

Back in NYC, brano che apre il secondo lato del doppio Lamb lies down on Broadway, che poi è anche uno dei miei dischi preferiti in assoluto. Questo è uno degli ultimi brani dei Genesis ad avere ancora la traduzione in italiano commentata nella custodia del vinile. Il testo fa riferimento ad una storia piuttosto complessa che dura per tutti i 23 brani dell’album, qui riporto il testo stralciato che può vivere anche di vita propria.

Metto questo pezzo perchè oggi ho sentito la nostalgia forte. Quella dei pomeriggi del liceo. Mettevo da parte i soldi fino ad arrivare credo a 10.000 lire. Poi uscivo e a piedi raggiungevo un posto che si chiamava “negozio di dischi”. In questo posto ad accesso libero potevi entrare e una signora aveva diviso dei dischi in vinile in ordine alfabetico per nome dentro dei contenitori. L’articolo non conta. The Clash per esempio va sotto la C. “CLASH, THE”.
Ho comprato questo disco per la copertina. Ma poi ho scoperto che c’era anche una storia dentro. Ho odiato questo disco per 1 mese almeno perchè non lo capivo.

La versione è dal vivo contenuta nel boxset Archive 67-75.
Questi sono 5 ragazzi di 24 anni, questo è il 1975.

I see faces and traces of home back in New York City –
So you think I’m a tough kid? Is that what you heard?
Well I like to see some action and it gets into my blood.
They call me the trail blazer – Rael – electric razor
I’m the pitcher in the chain gang, we don’t believe in pain
‘cos we’re only as strong, yes we’re only as strong,
as the weakest link in the chain.

Only after a spell in Pontiac reformatory was he given any respect in the gang.
Let me out of Pontiac when I was just seventeen,
I had to get it out of me, if you know what I mean, what I mean.

You say I must be crazy, ‘cos I don’t care who I hit, who I hit.
But I know it’s me that’s hitting out and I’m, I’m not full of shit.
I don’t care who I hurt, I don’t care who I do wrong.
This is your mess I’m stuck in, I really don’t belong.
When I take out my bottle, filled up high with gasoline,
You can tell by the night fires where Rael has been, has been.

Now, walking back home after a raid, he was cuddling a sleeping porcupine.
That night he pictured the removal of his hairy heart and to the accompaniment of very romantic music he watched it being shaved smooth by an anonymous stainless steel razor.

As I cuddled the porcupine
He said I had none to blame, but me.
Held my heart, deep in hair,
Time to shave, shave it off, it off.
No time for romantic escape,
When your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!
Off we go…

Your sitting in your comfort you don’t believe I’m real,
You cannot buy protection from the way that I feel.
Your progressive hypocrites hand out their trash,
But it was mine in the first place, so I’ll burn it to ash.
And I’ve tasted all the strongest meats,
And laid them down in coloured sheets (laid them down in coloured
sheets).
Who needs illusion of love and affection
When you’re out walking the streets with your mainline connection?
connection.

As I cuddled the porcupine
He said I had none to blame, but me.
Held my heart, deep in hair.
Time to shave, shave it off, it off.
No time for romantic escape,
When your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!

 

 

 

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