La nuova rubrica musicale di Centotrentuno.com: “La sveglia della settimana”, ossia il brano scelto da Sandro Galanti, dj e blogger cagliaritano.
La calma è la virtù dei forti, recita il proverbio; ogni volta che sento questa frase mi torna alla mente la battuta di Bergonzoni: “La salma è la virtù dei morti”. La canzone di questa settimana, come direbbero a Napoli, è piezz’e core e nel titolo richiama proprio la virtù abitualmente attribuita ai saggi, agli uomini di grande valore intellettuale e umano, ma tutti siamo calmi quando dormiamo. Anche una bomba è calmissima prima di esplodere, ce lo ricordano dall’anno 2000 anche i Rage Against The Machine, band crossover e hard core di Los Angeles, schierata apertamente contro la guerra e a favore delle minoranze etniche e politiche. Pur senza badare al testo duro, cinico e acido quasi volesse sciogliere ogni guerra, bastano l’iniziale tranquilla linea di basso e le tipiche esplosioni di de la Rocha e soci di cui è tempestato il brano per suggerire che tutto può essere calmo come il mare al tramonto in una serata di bonaccia o agitato come lo stesso mare in una notte di furiosa tempesta. Proprio come una bomba prima e dopo l’esplosione, in questa canzone c’è tutto questo.
Sandro Galanti
Calm Like A Bomb
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, check it out, yo, yo, yo
I be walkin’ god like a dog
My narrative fearless
My word war returns to burn
Like Baldwin home from Paris
Like Steel from a furnace
I was born landless
This is tha native son
Born of Zapata’s guns
Stroll through tha shanties
And tha cities remains
Same bodies buried hungry
But with different last names
These vultures rob everything
Leave nothing but chains
Pick a point on tha globe
Yes tha pictures tha same
There’s a bank There’s a church a myth and a hearse
A mall and a loan a child dead at birth
There’s a widow pig parrot
A rebel to tame
A whitehooded judge
A syringe and a vein
And tha riot be tha rhyme of tha unheard
what ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
This ain’t subliminal
Feel tha critical mass approach horizon
Tha pulse of tha condemned
Sound off America’s demise
Tha anti-myth rhythm rock shocker
Yes I spit fire
Hope lies in tha smoldering rubble of empires
Yes back through tha shanties and tha cities remains
Tha same bodies buried hungry
But with different last names
These vultures rob everyone
Leave nothing but chains
Pick a point here at home
Yes tha picture’s tha same
There’s a field full of slaves
Some corn and some debt
There’s a ditch full of bodies
Tha check for tha rent
There’s a tap, tha phone, tha silence of stone
Tha numb black screen
That be feelin’ like home
And tha riot be tha rhyme of tha unheard
What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
What ya say, what ya say, what ya say, what?
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
Calm like a bomb
Ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite, ignite
Calm Like a bomb
There’s a mass without roofs
There’s a prison to fill
There’s a country’s soul that reads post no bills
There’s a strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill
There’s a right to obey
And there’s a right to kill
There’s a mass without roofs
There’s a prison to fill
There’s a country’s soul that reads post no bills
There’s a strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill
There’s a right to obey
And there’s a right to kill
