Killers Angels Refugees ( 31 )

Agora que Ray Davies foi designado "Cavaleiro" e é por inerência um "Sir", seria interessante saber o que pensa hoje do texto de "20th Century Man" ( álbum "Muswell Hillbillies", 1971 ) ou, talvez melhor ainda, como seria o texto de um eventual "21th Century Man".

This is the age of machinery,
A mechanical nightmare,
The wonderful world of technology,
Napalm hydrogen bombs biological warfare,

 

This is the twentieth century,
But too much aggravation
It's the age of insanity,
What has become of the green pleasant fields of Jerusalem.

Ain't got no ambition, I'm just disillusioned
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't want to be here.
My mama said she can't understand me
She can't see my motivation
Just give me some security,
I'm a paranoid schizoid product of the twentieth century.

You keep all your smart modern writers
Give me William Shakespeare
You keep all your smart modern painters
I'll take Rembrandt, Titian, Da Vinci and Gainsborough,

Girl we gotta get out of here
We gotta find a solution
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't want to die here.

I was born in a welfare state
Ruled by bureaucracy
Controlled by civil servants
And people dressed in grey
Got no privacy got no liberty
'cause the twentieth century people
Took it all away from me.

Don't want to get myself shot down
By some trigger happy policeman,
Gotta keep a hold on my sanity
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't want to die here.

My mama says she can't understand me
She can't see my motivation
Ain't got no security,
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't want to be here.

This is the twentieth century
But too much aggravation
This is the edge of insanity
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't want to be

Capa do álbum "Muswell Hillbillies"

Capa do Single português de "20th Century Man", muito provavelmente a única edição mundial que apresenta "Alcohol" no lado B.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 30 )

"Campaigner" ( Neil Young )

I am a lonely visitor
I came to late to cause a stir
Though I campaigned all my life
Towards that goal.
I hardly slept the night you wept
Our secret's safe and still well kept
Where even Richard Nixon has got soul
Even Richard Nixon has got soul.

The podium rocks in the crowded waves
The speaker talks of the beautiful saves
That went down long before
He played this role
For the hotel queens and themagazines
Test tube genes and slot machines
Where even Richard Nixon has got soul
Even Richard Nixon has got it,
Soul

Hospitals have made him cry
But there's always a free way in his eye
Though his beach just got
Too crowded for his stroll
Roads stretch out like healthy veins
And wild gift horses strain the reins
Where even Richard Nixon has got soul
Even Richard Nixon has got soul

I am a lonely visitor
I came to late to cause a stir
Though I campaigned all my life
Towards that goal.

Uma das canções mais "secretas" de Neil Young, "Campaigner" foi escrita em 1976 no decorrer do "Stills Young Band Tour".
Foi publicada originalmente na compilação "Decade" ( 1977 ) e, ao contrário do que possa parecer está longe de constituir um anacronismo.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 29 )

"Dirty Boulevard" ( Lou Reed )

Pedro lives out of Wilshire Hotel
Looks out a window without glass
Walls are made of cardboard, newspapers on his feet
The old man beats him 'cause he too tired to beg
He's got nine brothers and sisters
They're brought up on their knees
Hard to run when a coat hanger beats you on the thighs
Pedro dreams of being older killing the old man
Slim chance he's going to the boulevard
He gonna get in, to the dirty boulevard
I'm gonna get out, to the dirty boulevard
Going down, to the dirty boulevard, get it on
This room cost two thousand dollars a month
You believe it baby, it's true
Somewhere there is a landlord living that wets his pants, wets his pants
No one dreams of being a doctor or lawyer or anything
They just dream of dealing on the boulevard
Give me your hungry, your tired, your poor piss on 'em
That's what the statue of bigotry says
All you poor huddled masses
Why don't you just go club 'em to death?
Get it over with
Dump 'em on the boulevard, and get it out now
I'm going down
Get it, get it, get it out
Going down
You ever had rage in your heart?
You ever had some rage in your heart?
You ever had rage in your heart?
Have you ever had rage in your heart?
Outside it's a bright night
There's an opera, Lincoln Center
The klieg lights shoot out over the Manhattan skyline
But the lights are out on the mean
Small kid stands by the Lincoln Tunnel
Selling plastic roses for a buck
Traffic's backed up to Thirty-Ninth Street
The TV whores are calling the cops out to get sucked
Back at the Wilshire, Pedro sits there dreaming
Found a book on magic in a garbage can
Looks at the pictures, looks up at the cracked ceiling
By the count of three I'll get outta here and fly away
I wanna fly, fly away
I wanna fly from this dirty boulevard
Fly, fly, I wanna get outta, get outta, get outta here
Fly fly, fly away
Fly fly, fly away
Fly fly, fly away
I wanna fly, fly, fly
I wanna fly, fly, fly
Fly away

Dir-me-ão: sempre foi assim! É verdade. Mas o estado do mundo hoje, assemelha-se cada vez mais ao Dirty Blvd do Lou Reed dos três ismos - pessimismo, niilismo, cinismo. "New York" é um álbum enorme, ainda que muito cinzento. 

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 28 )

 

"Love will tear us apart" ( Joy Division )

"When routine beats hard,
And ambitions are low.
And resentment rides high,
But emotions won't grow.
And we're changing our ways
Taking different roads.

Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.

Why is the bedroom so cold?
Turned away on your side.
Is my time that flawed?
Our respect run so dry?
Yet there's still this appeal,
That we've kept through our lives.

Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.

Do you cry out in your sleep?
All my failings exposed,
Gets a taste in my mouth
As desperation takes old.
Why is it something so good
Just can't function no more?

Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again."

"Love will tear us apart" foi publicada pela primeira vez pela Factory Records em Abril de 1980, num single de 7 polegadas (foto acima). O lado A rodava em 45 rotações, o lado B em 33.
 

Em Junho do mesmo ano conheceu uma nova edição, em formato maxi-single e com um novo grafismo (foto abaixo).

Ao longo do tempo tem sido objecto de várias versões. Em 2011, através de June Tabor & Oysterband, terá conhecido a sua mais bela e porventura definitiva recuperação. Está no álbum "Ragged Kingdom" e é simplesmente notável. 

 

 

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 27 )

"Military Madness" ( Graham Nash )

"In an upstairs room in Blackpool
by the side of a northern sea
the Army had my father
and my mother hasn't having me
military madness was killing my country
solitary sadness comes over me
after the school was over and I moved
to the other side
I found a different country but I never
lost my pride
military madness was killing my country
solitary sadness creeps over me
and after the wars are over
and the body count is finally filed
I hope the Man discovers
what's driving the people wild
military madness is killing my country
so much sadness between you and me
war, war, war, war, war,war"

Escrita em 1971 e publicada no álbum "Songs for beginners", "Military Madness" mantém a actualidade. Acrescentaria aliás um pequeno detalhe: muitos dos que à época a usaram como hino pacifista, são hoje os mandantes/detonadores de muitas das guerras e conflitos contemporâneos.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 26 )

"The old Man's back again (Dedicated to the Neo-Stalinist Regime)" (Scott Walker)




O estalinismo, com ou sem Stalin, nunca foi um tema muito popular na pop. Assim de repente, recordo-me do single militante "Stalin wasn't stalling" / "Stalingrad" que Robert Wyatt publicou na Rough Trade em 1980 e pouco mais.

"The Old Man's back again (Dedicated to the Neo-Stalinist Regime)" (seja lá o que for que isso signifique), foi editado pela primeira vez em Dezembro de 1969 no alinhamento de "Scott 4", provavelmente o melhor álbum do sempre enigmático Scott Walker.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 25 )

"Olivers's Army" ( Elvis Costello )

Don't start me talking I could talk all night
My mind goes sleepwalking
While I'm putting the world to right
Called careers information
Have you got yourself an occupation?

Oliver's army is here to stay
Oliver's army are on their way
And I would rather be anywhere else
But here today

There was a checkpoint Charlie
He didn't crack a smile
But it's no laughing party
When you've been on the murder mile
Only takes one itchy trigger
One more widow, one less white nigger

Oliver's army is here to stay
Oliver's army is on their way
And I would rather be anywhere else
But here today

Hong Kong is up for grabs
London is full of Arabs
We could be in Palestine
Overrun by a Chinese line
With the boys from the Mersey and the Thames and the Tyne
But there's no danger
It's a professional career
Though it could be arranged
With just a word in Mr. Churchill's ear
If you're out of luck or out of work
We could send you to Johannesburg

Oliver's army is here to stay
Oliver's are on their way
And I would rather be anywhere else
But here today

Publicada em 1979 no álbum "Armed Forces" - um artefacto que incluia uma magnifica capa desdobrável, capa interior colorida, 4 fotos em forma de postal e um EP com três títulos gravados ao vivo no Hollywood High - "Oliver's Army", escrita depois do regresso de uma tournée na Irlanda do Norte, recupera a figura histórica de Oliver Cromwell para a partir daí criticar o papel do exército como instrumento operacional da ocupação inglesa.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 24 )

"The Road to Cairo " ( David Ackles )

"A fella told me this here road leads to Cairo.

I got to get me a ride.

I got to go back, go back to my children.

I got to see my little bride.

I been travelin'.

Gone a long long time.

Don't know what i'll find.

Scared of what i'll find but I just got to see them again.

Hey thanks for stoppin'.

Are you headed down to Cairo?

I wrecked my Lincoln in Saint Jo.

Why to little old Cairo?

No special reason.

Look up some folk I used to know.

Me I travel some.

Have my share of fun.

Now that's a life a man can live.

Sure I've played and lost but who minds the cost?

You gor to take more than you give.

Hey you got another cigar?

Son I sure like this car.

Oh from your daddy as a gift.

Say on second thought there's gifts I haven't bought.

Just drop me here.

Thanks for the lift.

Yes I've traveled some.

Yes I've been a bum.

Never have a dime for gin.

Left to make my way.

Told her I can't stay to see my children poor as sin.

I know this road.

It leads straight into Cairo 22 miles straight ahead.

I can't I can't walk down this road to Cairo.

They're better thinkin' I'm dead.

I been travelin'.

Gone a long long time.

Don't know what I'd find.

Scared of what I'd find.

I can't just can't walk down this road."

Uma muito peculiar "road song" narrada por um "hobo" que apanha uma boleia com a intenção de regressar a casa, mas que vai mudando de opinião à medida que a estrada estreita e a canção evolui, "The road to Cairo" ( no estado americano de West Virginia ) foi publicada pela primeira vez no álbum homónimo de David Ackles ( Elektra EKS 74022 ) em Junho de 1968 ( foto acima ).

Excelente ( um dos mais perfeitos painéis de "crónicas americanas" publicados em disco ) e sobretudo diferente ( as prestações do orgão de Michael Fonfara em "His name is Andrew" e "Be my friend" permanecem enormes ), "David Ackles" passou olimpicamente incógnito até que Julie Driscoll, Brian Auger & Trinity" levaram a sua versão de "The road to Cairo" até aos tops europeus.

Em 1971, depois de Spooky Tooth e Barry Dransfield terem publicado com sucesso as suas interpretações de "Down river" e "Be my friend" respectivamente, a Elektra decidiu-se por uma segunda prensagem do álbum. Para aproveitar a onda, rebaptizou-o de "The road to Cairo" e, numa tentativa de se adequar aoa tempos, substituiu o design pioneiro da capa ( William S. Harvey ) por uma fotografia ( Guy Webster ) mais de acordo com o conceito "singer songwriter" então prevalecente.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 23 )

"Love's not the way to treat a friend" ( Richard Brautigan / David Robinson )

"Love's not the way to treat a friend
I wouldn't wish that on you.
I don't want to see your eyes forgotten
on a rainy day, lost in the endless purse
of those who remember nothing.

Love's not the way to treat a friend.
I don't want to see you end up that way
with your body being poured like wounded
marble into the architecture of those who make
bridges out of crippled birds.

Love's not the way to treat a friend.
There are so many better things for you
than to see your feelings sold
as magic lanterns to somebody whose body casts no light."


É conhecida a ligação do escritor Richard Brautigan ao grupo californiano Mad River. Uma das etapas mais brilhantes do psicadelismo americano, o álbum de estreia "Mad River" ( 1968 ) nasceu e cresceu sob a influência artistica e espiritual do poeta/romancista. O segundo, "Paradise Bar and Grill" ( 1969 ) inclui aquele que é o primeiro registo gravado por Brautigan: "Love's not the way to treat a friend".

Tendo embora resultado das sessões que estiveram na origem de "Mad River", o poema ( que David Robinson musicou ) apenas faria parte do alinhamento de "Paradise Bar and Grill".

No entretanto, em Maio de 69, Richard Brautigan permitiu a respectiva publicação na Rolling Stone nº 32 ( foto acima ). "Not the way" foi o título escolhido.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 22 )

"Child's Christmas in Wales" ( John Cale )

"With mistletoe and candle green
To Halloween we go
Ten murdered oranges bled on board ship
Lends comedy to shame
The cattle graze bold uprightly
Seducing down the door
To saddle swords and meeting place
We have no place to go

Then wearily the footsteps worked
The hallelujah crowds
Too late but wait the long legged bait
Tripped uselessly around
Sebastopol Adrianapolis
The prayers of all combined
Take down the flags of ownership
The walls are falling down

A belt to hold
Columbus too, perimeters of nails
Perceived the Mamma's golden touch
Good neighbours were we all"

John Cale de novo ( nunca é de mais ). Em "Child's Christmas in Wales", inspirado na obra do compatriota Dylan Thomas, compôs uma belissima melodia e a partir daí escreveu uma extraordinária bizarria, vagamente relacionada com os Natais da sua infãncia em Gales.

Quanto ao álbum, "Paris 1919" ( 1973 ), o mínimo que se pode dizer é que todas as casas deveriam possuir um exemplar.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 21 )

"Risé, Sam and Rimsky Korsakov" ( John Cale / Sam Shepard )

I knew a guitar player once, who called the radio friendly

He felt a kinship, not with the music so much as with the radio's voice,

It's synthetic quality,

It's voices distinct from the voices coming through it.

Its ability to transmit the illusion of people at a great distance.

He slept with the radio,

He talked to the radio.

He disagreed with the radio.

He believed in four way radio land.

He believed he would never find this land.

So, he reconciled himself to listening to it only.

He believed he had been banned from the radio land,

And was doomed to vault the airwaves forever

Seeking some magical channel

That would reinstate him to his long lost heritage.

Uma absoluta obra-prima, "Music for a new society" ( Ze RecordsILPS 7019 ), é "O" álbum maldito de John Cale. E o mais secreto também ( foi objecto de uma fugaz reedição em cd há um par de anos e encontra-se desde então fora de catálogo).

O texto de "Risé, Sam and Rimsky Korsakov" é vulgarmente atribuído a Sam Shepard, embora o Atalho não tenha localizado provas inequívocas do facto.

Explicando melhor:

1 ) relativamente a este tema, o meu vinil original inglês não menciona Sam Shepard. No entanto atribui a co-autoria de "If you were still around" ao actor e dramaturgo americano.

2) à data da publicação, as críticas ao álbum, quer no New Musical Express quer no Melody Maker ( esta reproduzida abaixo ), também não faziam qualquer referência ao tema.

3) o sítio oficial de Sam Shepard é omisso quanto ao assunto.

4) para além do MySpace, John Cale não tem página oficial na net.

Não obstante, porque o álbum e o tema o merecem amplamente, aqui fica a referência.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 20 )

"Revolution Blues" ( Neil Young )

Well, we live in a trailer at the edge of town
You never see us 'cause we don't come around.
We got twenty five rifles just to keep the population down.
But we need you now, and that's why I'm hangin' 'round.
So you be good to me and I'll be good to you,
And in this land of conditions I'm not above suspicion

I won't attack you, but I won't back you.

Well, it's so good to be here, asleep on your lawn.
Remember your guard dog? Well, I'm afraid that he's gone.
It was such a drag to hear him whining all night long.
Yes, that was me with the doves, setting them free near the factory
Where you built your computer, love.
I hope you get the connection, 'cause I can't take the rejection
I won't deceive you, I just don't believe you.

Well, I'm a barrel of laughs, with my carbine on
I keep 'em hoppin', till my ammunition's gone.
But I'm still not happy, I feel like there's something wrong.
I got the revolution blues, I see bloody fountains,
And ten million dune buggies comin' down the mountains.
Well, I hear that Laurel Canyon is full of famous stars,
But I hate them worse than lepers and I'll kill them in their cars.

Hoje, durante a minha caminhada matinal, regressei a "Revolution Blues". Um facto recorrente desde que "On the Beach" foi publicado em 1974.

Não obstante, descubro sempre algo de novo, como se escutasse o tema pela primeira vez. E nunca me cansarei da guitarra ritmo de David Crosby, tal como é impossível alguém ficar indiferente perante uma das mais extraordinárias performances de um baixo eléctrico em estúdio; cortesia de um tal Rick Danko.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 19 )

"The house that Jack Kerouac built" ( R. Forster / G. McLennan )

You and I together, with nothing showing at all,
In a darkened cinema, I'll give you pleasure in the stalls.
Want to give you tenderness, and my affection too,
If it's through clenched teeth, that's what you're driven me to.
I want us to be lovers
I want us to be friends
Want it like; it's the living end.
Keep me away from her.

With your kittens, on the patchwork quilt,
Oh no, what am I doing here, in the house Jack Kerouac built.
There's white magic, and bad rock'n'roll,
Your friend there says, he's the gatekeeper to my soul.
The velvet curtains
The Chinese bell
With friends like these; you're damned as well.
Keep me away from her.

Shake off your despondency, and your country girl act.
You are reading me poetry, that's Irish, and so black.
I know you're warm, the warmest person alive,
But are you warm, deep down inside?
I want us to be lovers
I want us to be friends
Want it like; the world crumbles and then it ends.
Keep me away from her.

Baby, I'm lonely.
You're on the road with a bad crowd.



Publicado pelos Go-Betweens no último capítulo da chamada trilogia "double L" - "Spring Hill Fair" ( 1984 ), "Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express" ( 1986 ), "Tallulah" ( 1987 ) - "The house that Jack Kerouac built" está repleto de metáforas e alegorias. Indicia um fim de festa e "You're off the road with a bad crowd" talvez fosse uma opção a considerar...

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 18 )

"The End of the Rainbow" ( Richard Thompson )

I feel for you, you little horror,

Safe at your mother's breast,

No lucky break for you around the corner;

'Cos your father is a bully

And he thinks that you're a pest,

And your sister she's no better than a wore.

Life seems so rosy in the cradle, but I'll

Be a friend, I'll tell you what's in store.

There's nothing at the end of the rainbow,

There's nothing to grow up for any more.

Tycoons and barrow boys will rob you,

And throw you on the side,

And all because they love themselves sincerely.

And the man holds a bread-knife

Up to your throat is four feet wide,

And he's anxious just to show you what it's for.

Your mother works so hard to make you happy,

But take a look outside the nursery door.

There's nothing at the end of the rainbow,

There's nothing to grow up any more.

All the sad and empty faces

That pass you on the street,

All running in their sleep, all in a dream

Ev'ry loving handshake

Is just another man to beat.

How your heart aches just to cut him to the core.

Life seems so rosy in the cradle,

But I'll be a friend, I'll tell you what's in store.

There's nothing at the end of the rainbow.

There's nothing to grow up for any more.

Por vezes regressar aos mestres é melhor forma de colocar os factos, sejam eles quais forem, na correcta perspectiva.

E quando, aparentemente, as coisas insistem em querer correr mal, nada melhor do que regressar a "The End of the Rainbow" ( publicada em 1974 no fenomenal "I want to see the bright lights tonight" ), uma das mais desconfortáveis "dark songs" alguma vez escritas.

A frieza da melodia e o minamalismo dos arranjos geminam com o "insuportável" cepticismo do texto. A fé na condição humana nunca foi uma das características de Richard Thompson, mas perante algo como isto até os momentos mais sombrios de Peter Hammill ou Randy Newman poderiam desfilar num corso de carnaval.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 17 )

"What more can I say, John?" ( Richie Havens )

You have antecipated all the players

Your silent judgement growin'

And from time to time you pace the floor

Because you are a-knowin'

Yet you cannot stop your sowin'

All the stars that symbolise where you're goin'

And your heavy rains keep growin'

Hey, come on, you've got something better to do.

You have hidden your face from the people,

And to them you keep on denyin'

That far, far away across the sea,

For no reason their sons are dyin'

While it's Vietnam you're buyin'

Among all your conservatives a-sighin'

And all your murderous lyin'

Hey, it's me who's defyin'

Hey, come on, you've got something better to do.

What good are all those documents?

Those well-kept worthless scrolls;

When the hand you bit turns and slaps your face,

The hands you tried to mold,

And they leave you out in the cold,

With your pockets full of gold,

Yet you can not pay the toll

Of the brave and the bold who are shoutin'

Hey, come on, you've got something better to do.

1969. "Richard P. Havens, 1983" ( Verve Forecast FTS 3047-2 ), o terceiro álbum de Richie Havens inclui nada menos do que quatro versões dos Beatles, algo de absurdo e sobretudo desnecessário, tendo em conta por uma lado, a qualidade do disco e, por outro, as raízes folk do autor.

Como a história e a estupidez humana tendem a repetir-se, bastaria substituir Vietname por Iraque e a canção acima seria tão actual hoje como o foi há quatro décadas.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 16 )

"Portugal " ( Jeff Kelly )

You in the water, the sun being high in the sky

You two framed in blue, the rest of the world is white

Both of you naked and tanned, unburned and unmanned

She is nothing but a happy virgin wanting your hand

I am watching as the center of the universe lies down in the sand

You in the water as happy as you've ever been

This is good magic, this must be living in sin

A bottle of wine in the ocean to pour down the lines of your skin

She is nothing but a lovely stranger out of life's dusk

Brought here by the undertow of danger and promises of lust

Summer's here but soon will go away

South to a warmer place for another year

Summer's here, stars come out of night

Your eyes are extra bright and clear

I come to the water bringing my telescope so we

Can scan the horizon for any Russian submarines

You two are tipsy and glowing with kisses and salty sea

I am nothing but a half a singer, half a referee

Wanting this moment to linger, this hour to freeze

Summer's here but soon will go away

South to a warmer place for another year

Summer's here, stars come out of night

Your eyes are extra bright and clear.

"Portugal" foi publicado pela primeira vez em 1990. A cassete ( foto acima ), uma edição única e limitada da obscura Green Monkey, rapidamente desapareceu dos radares.

Em 1999 a Camara Obscura incluiu o álbum na reedição "Melancholy Sun, the home/solo recordings of Jeff kelly (1987-1997)" ( foto abaixo ). Um absoluto festim the inspiração psych/pop ainda relativamente fácil de adquirir.

Nota: um agradecimento especial a Jeff Kelly por me ter disponibilizado o texto integral da canção

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 15 )

"War Crimes (The Crime is still the same)" ( Jerry Dammers )

Bombs to settle arguments, the order of the boot
Can you hear them crying in the rubble of Beirut?

I can still see pleople 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.



A opção musical dos Specials, tal como a dos respectivos sucedâneos ( Specials AKA, Fun Boy Three, Colour Field ), nunca foi o meu "cup of tea". Não obstante, a corajosa abordagem política de "War Crimes (The crime is still the same)", single publicado pela 2Tone a 22 de Novembro de 1982, escassos dois meses após os massacres de Sabra e Chatila terem sido perpretados, mais do que justifica esta referência.

Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 14 )

"Sing us one of your songs May" ( Bill Fay )

Sing us one of your songs May,

the ones you know so well

Sing us one of your songs May,

you know we love you well

Dry the tears from your eyes May,

what's it gonna be

For you know he's gone to Heaven May,

though he was only 23

They say he was a brave one May

and we all agree

There never was a finer one May,

that died for his country

Sing us one of your songs May.

A marcial simplicidade com que Bill Fay aborda este tema tem tanto de brilhante quanto de incómodo. Uma das suas mais belas e eloquentes criações, "Sing us one of your songs May" foi publicada pela primeira vez no álbum "Bill Fay" ( Deram Nova SDN 12 ) em 1970.

Killer, Angels, Refugees ( 13 )

"Sister Morphine" ( Jagger / Richards / Faithfull )

Here I lie in my hospital bed,
Tell me, Sister Morphine, when are you coming round again.
Oh, and I don't think I can wait that long,
Oh, you see that my pain in so strong.
All the other patients say they've never seen a man with such pain.
Tell me, Sister Morphine, when are you coming round again?
Oh, I don't think I can wait that long,
Oh, you see that I'm not that strong.
The screaming of the ambulance is sounding in my ear.
Tell me, Sister Morphine, how long have I been lying here?
What am I doing in this place?
Why does the doctor have no face?
Oh, I can't crawl across the floor.
Can't you see, Sister Morphine, just trying to score.
Well, it just goes to show things are not what they seem.
Please, Sister Morphine, turn my nightmare into dreams.
Oh, can't you see I'm fading fast
And that thsi shot will be the last.
Please, Cousin Cocaine, lay your cool hands on my head.
Hey, Sister Morphine, you'd better make up the lyin' bed
Cause you know and I know in morning I'll be dead,
And you can sit around and watch all the clean white sheets stain red.

A história de "Sister Morphine" tem vindo a ser construída paredes meias com a polémica, episódios que balançam entre a paixão e a traição, tragédias e mal entendidos vários. Factos apurados:

1) foi escrita por Mick Jagger, Keith Richards e Marianne Faithfull

2) integrou o lado B do single de Faithfull "Something better" (foto acima), publicado a 21 de Fevereiro de 1969 pela Decca e de imediato retirado do mercado

3) tornar-se-ia conhecida quando os Stones a incluíram no alinhamento de "Sticky Fingers" em Abril de 1971

4) foi finalmente massificada por Marianne Faithfull em Maio de 1982, no flipside do single "Broken English" (foto abaixo) com o selo da Island MF 100.