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Archivio per il giorno 18 Novembre 2008


martedì 18 Novembre 2008, 16:32

[[Yeasayer – 2080]]

Come appendice al post di ieri, devo aggiungerne la colonna sonora; ovvero 2080, di una band broccolinese indipendente che si chiama Yeasayer e che ha fatto scalpore l’anno scorso, con il suo sound che mescola coretti e vocalit√† anni ’80 con il rock, l’elettronica, la world music e altro ancora, situandosi da qualche parte tra i Mattafix e i Tears For Fears. Come dice il titolo, √® una canzone sul presente; ed esprime bene il mistero della confusione decadente di cui parlavamo, perdendosi nel sogno di un alternativo paesaggio bucolico.

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I can’t sleep when I think about the times we’re living in
I can’t sleep when I think about the future I was born into
Outsiders dressed up like Sunday morning
But with no Berlin wall what the hell you gonna do

It’s a new year, I’m glad to be here
It’s a fresh spring, so let’s sing
In 2080 I’ll surely be dead
So don’t look ahead, never look ahead
It’s a new year, I’m glad to be here
It’s the first spring, so let’s sing
And the moon shines bright on the water tonight
So we won’t drown in the summer sound

Find me, I’ll be sitting by the water fountain
Picket signs, letdowns, meltdown on Monday morning
But it’s alright, but it’s alright, but it’s alright, but it’s alright

Cause in no time, they’ll be gone I guess
I’ll still be standing here

It’s a new year, I’m glad to be here
It’s a fresh spring, so let’s sing
In 2080 I’ll surely be dead
So don’t look ahead, never look ahead
It’s a new year, I’m glad to be here
It’s the first spring, so let’s sing
And the moon shines bright on the water tonight
So we won’t drown in the summer sound

Yeah yeah we can all grab at the chance and be handsome farmers
Yeah you can have twenty one sons and be blood when they marry my daughters
And the pain that we left at the station will stay in a jar behind us
We can pickle the pain into blue ribbon winners at county contests
Yeah yeah we can all grab at the chance and be handsome farmers
Yeah you can have twenty one sons and be blood when they marry my daughters
And the pain that we left at the station will stay in a jar behind us
We can pickle the pain into blue ribbon winners at county contests

[tags]musica, mp3, indie, yeasayer, 2080[/tags]

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