Wale - The Kramer

Pues ya que a Muzak le ha dado por el rap, voy a seguir yo con Kale, un rapero de Baltimore del que a decir verdad sólo conozco esto, pero que tiene muy buena pinta. El título de su mixtape "The Mixtape About Nothing", es una referencia a la serie Seinfeld, posiblemente la serie de TV con la que más me he reído jamás, y de la que el propio Kale es fan... "The Kramer", el tema central, trata de Michael Richards, que interpretaba a Kramer en esa serie, y que el año pasado fue grabado el video mientras se le iba la olla de mala manera al pobre, y dedicaba insultos racistas a un par de chavales negros que le estaban hundiendo el show. (Moraleja: No pienses burradas. Si las piensas, no las digas. Si las dices, que no te oigan. Y si te oyen, vas listo, macho, que hoy en día te graban en video en cualquier parte...). La carrera de Richards ya no iba a ningún sitio, lo que es una suerte para él, porque después de esto, lo iba a tener bastante crudo. La visión de Kale al respecto llama también la atención, porque (puede que por ser fan de la serie, no lo sé), aunque le mete caña, no hace sangre con él, y es bastante explicativa en cuanto a como llevan el tema del racismo por ahí...

Video y letras a continuación... (El video es de un fan, pero es perfecto)




[Intro - Michael Richards]
Shut up! 50 years ago, they'd have you upside down with a fucking fork up your ass! You can talk, you can talk, you can talk, you're brave now, motherfucker! Who's loud talking? The nigger! He's a nigger! He's a nigger! A nigger, look, there's a nigger!

[Wale]
The color of my skin, content of my character,
Dream of a King's been a nightmare for anyone
White with a badge or anyone
Slightly affected by the tide to this race that I'm running in,
Pardon me, y'all, the racists I run against,
The race war, when its us against all of them,
They subconsciously low talk us,
And probably all think as Kramer did still but won't talk it,
And first off, I ain't trying to be conscious,
Speaking heart with a conscious, talking to you,
This dark content for those of dark complexion,
Who's x-ed off, Rip, who gon' listen to us?
Who gon' speak for us? Who gon' plead for us?
Who gon' be the Head N.I.C. for us?
Who gon' defend us from crooked police on us?
I'm just an insecure N.I.G. er...

Please listen to me, please listen to me,
Please listen to me, N.I.G. er...
Please listen to me, who gon' listen to me?
Who gon' listen to me, N.I.G. er...
Listen to me, who gon' listen to me?
Who gon' listen to me, N.I.G. er...
Who gon' listen to me, who gon' listen to me?
Who gon' listen to me, N.I.G.

Hey,
And P say that I should stop saying nigga,
But if I did, what would be the difference?
I'd still be a nigga, he'd still be a nigga in his feelings,
I'd still be a nigga with no deal tryna get one,
There'd still be niggas out killing,
And still be white people still out to get us,
And still be niggas saying whites tryna get us,
And still be lazy and paranoid niggas,
I'm paramount, nigga, I am, and you can't be mad,
Cuz I choose the word nigga, lemme air it out, nigga,
Nigga ain't bad, see, niggas just had,
A clever idea to take something They said,
Into something we have, something we flipped
Into something with swag, nigga, don't be mad,
Bitches ain't shit, but women ain't bitches,
See, women are the queens, and bitches just bitches,
And bitches say bitch like bitch is not offensive,
When niggas say bitch, all of the sudden, they offended,
And niggas say nigga to a nigga,
A nigga write nigga in a lyric, expect the white boy to omit it,
The white boy spit it like he spit it,
Recite it to his friends who, by the way, ain't niggas,
And say nigga, nigga, nigga, my favorite rapper did it,
And non-nigga friends got it with him,
Incorporate this lyric to their everyday living,
Until a black friend kinda hear it, just a tidbit,
He thinks Aw, forget it, its so insignificant and little,
The white boy sees this as a clearance, now its
Nigga, nigga, nigga, every single day,
And that little nigga nigga, thinks its okay,
And he's the only nigga in this particular grade,
And it begins to phase him more each day,
The things they say went a little too far,
He couldn't tell the difference between an a or er,
So they just keep going, saying nigga in his face,
There's nothing he can do, he let it get away,
It came to the point he couldn't look 'em in the face,
The mirror made him hurl, his reflection disgraceful,
Yeah, and make sure everything you say,
Can't be held against you in any kind of way,
And any connotation is viewed many ways,
Cuz under every nigga, there's a little bit of Kramer,
Self-hatred...I hate you...and myself...
Niggas...

[Outro - Michael Richards]
Uh, I lost my temper onstage, I was at, uh, a comedy club trying to, um, do my act and I got heckled and I, I, I took it badly and went into a, a rage...and uh, uh...said some pretty, uh...nasty things to some Afro-Americans, a lot of trash talk...for this to happen, for me to be in a comedy club and flip out and say this crap, you know, I'm...I'm deeply, deeply sorry...

Young Jeezy . Put On

El rap nunca ha sido santo de mi devoción razón por la cual, en ocasiones, me he perdido buenos temas del estilo.
Hace ya unos meses, Young Jeezy junto a Kanye West, publicó este "Put On" incluido en su CD "The Recession" que, para mi gusto, se sale de lo corriente.
Como es común en el género, gran contenido social (la bandera tradicional se ha sustituido por otra negra y plata, representando la necesidad del cambio). Musicalmente, una pieza a considerar.



Y, como de costumbre, la letra:

I put on...(x4)
I put on for my city, on on for my city (x4)

When they see me up in traffic they say Jeezy on some other shit
Send them pussy niggas runnin straight back to the dealership
Me I'm in my spaceship, thats right I work for Nasa
The 7H is not a fraud, call that bitch my bodyguard
Call that bitch your bodyguard? Yeah, thats my bodyguard
When we're out of jewelry Young gon' do security
It was whiter than a napkin, harder than a dinner plate
If you want it come and get it
You know I stay super straight
Ran up in my spots and now I'm workin at the Super 8
Know you niggas hungry, come and get a super plate
Y'all sing happy birthday, yeah I got that super cake
Hundred karat bracelet, I use it like some super freight
[Chorus]
I put on for my city, on on for my city
I put on for my city, on on for my city
Put on (east side)
Put on (south side)
Put on (west side)
Put on
(x2)
Half bag, top back, ain't nothin but a young thug
HKs, 8 K's, i need to join a gun club
Big wheels, big straps, you know I like it super sized
Passenger's a redbone, her weave look like some curly fries
Inside fish sticks, outside tartar sauce
Pocket full of celery, imagine what she tellin me
Blowin on asparagus, the realest shit I ever smoked
Ridin to that Trap or Die, the realest shit I ever wrote
They know I got that broccoli, so I keep that glock on me
Don't get caught without one, comin from where I'm from
Call me Jeezy Hamilton, flyin down Campbellton
So fresh, so clean, on my way to Charlene

[Chorus]

[Kanye]
I put on...(x3)
I put on for my city, I put on for my
I put on for my city, I put on for my city
On...

I feel like there's still niggas that owe me checks
I feel like there's still bitches that owe me sex
I feel like this but niggas don't know the stress
I lost the only girl in the world that know me best
I got the money and the fame and that don't mean shit
I got the Jesus on a chain, man that don't mean shit
Cause when the Jesus pieces can't bring me peace
So I need just at least of one of Russell's nieces
On...I let my nightmares go
I put on for everybody that I knew from the go
I know dese hoes that was frontin when they knew we was broke
They say damn, Yeezy Yeezy, you don't know us no more
You got that big fame homie, and you just changed on me
You can ask big homie, man the top so lonely III....
So lonely III....
Let me see what we have tonight (what we have tonight)
I'm high as a satellite (satellite)
I see those flashin lights (flashin lights)
Cause every night (every night)
I put on
[Chorus]

Sweet Child O'Mine

Hace un par de días he visto (bueno, no la acabé de ver), "Hermanos por pelotas", estúpida traducción de "Step Brothers", con Will Ferrel y John C. Reilly (¡qué doblaje más malo!).
La peli no es gran cosa, al contrario, pocos golpes de humor buenos debidos a un guión muy pobre.
Pero tienen un momento muy divertido en una escena en la que, precisamente, ellos no aparecen: esta versión vocal de "Sweet Child O'Mine"



El original es de lo más reseñable de los Roses (inicio perfectamente reconocible de Slash)



Y, como de costumbre, la letra:

She's got a smile that it seems to me
Reminds me of childhood memories
Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky
Now and then when I see her face
She takes me away to that special place
And if I stared too long
I'd probably break down and cry

Oh, sweet child o' mine
Oh, sweet love of mine

She's got eyes of the bluest skies
As if they thought of rain
I hate to look into those eyes
And see an ounce of pain
Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place
Where as a child I'd hide
And pray for the thunder and the rain
To quietly pass me by

Oh, sweet child o' mine
Oh, sweet love of mine

Oh, sweet child o' mine
Oh, sweet love of mine
Oh, sweet child o' mine
Oh, sweet love of mine

Where do we go
Where do we go now
Where do we go
Where do we go
Where do we go now

Where do we go
Sweet child
Where do we go now

Where do we go
Where do we go now
Where do we go
Where do we go now

Where do we go
Where do we go now
Sweet child
Sweet child o' mine

¿Hay algo salvable en Day & Age?

Day & Age es el último trabajo de The Killers, publicado ya hace unos meses y con resaltable campaña publicitaria (curiosa esa inversión televisiva en los tiempos que corren). Como en la carrera de The Killers existen temas muy buenos, me pica la curiosidad por escucharlo. Y no me convence.
Lo he dejado correr durante algunos meses, tiempo más que suficiente para hacerte el oído y la verdad es que nada. Tibio total. Un paso atrás, desde mi punto de vista. Nada reseñable, nada que se salga de lo correcto, lo previsible y lo ya visto.

En fin, "Human", del album "Day & Age" de The Killers



Y la letrilla :p

I did my best to notice
When the call came down the line
Up to the platform of surrender
I was brought but I was kind

And sometimes I get nervous
When I see an open door
Close your eyes, clear your heart
Cut the cord

Are we human or are we dancers?
My sign is vital, my hands are cold
And I'm on my knees looking for the answer
Are we human or are we dancers?

Pay my respects to grace and virtue
Send my condolences to good
Give my regards to soul and romance
They always did the best they could

And so long to devotion
You taught me everything I know
Wave goodbye, wish me well
You've gotta let me go

Are we human or are we dancers?
My sign is vital, my hands are cold
And I'm on my knees looking for the answer
Are we human or are we dancers?

Will your system be alright
When you dream of home tonight?
There is no message we're receiving
Let me know, is your heart still beating?

Are we human or are we dancers?
My sign is vital, my hands are cold
And I'm on my knees looking for the answer

You've gotta let me know
Are we human or are we dancers?
My sign is vital, my hands are cold
And I'm on my knees looking for the answer
Are we human or are we dancers?

Are we human or are we dancers?
Are we human or are we dancers?

Jackson Browne . Call It A Loan

Este sujeto siempre me ha caído un poco gordo.
Reconozco que no sé el motivo: simplemente, no me gusta (me refiero a su música, la persona me tira de un pie, obviamente).
Como no me gusta mucho, pues lo he ignorado dentro de la música que tengo o que me gusta escuchar. De todas formas, algo siempre tienes más que nada, por tener de todo un poco.
Al lío: quiero pensar que es una excepción, porque sino tendría que cambiar radicalmente de opinión al respecto, pero hace poco he escuchado "Call It A Loan", y ¿qué quereis que os diga? Es maravillosa. A mí me resulta una composición completísima. Suave, con una cadencia realmente magnífica, y tan bien producida que te quedas con la boca abierta.
He llegado a pensar si estaba equivocado con respecto a Browne... No lo creo. Prefiero pensar que cualquiera puede, en el momento adecuado y con un poco de suerte, crear una genialidad :)

Publicada en 1980 en su álbum "Hold Out".

Os dejo un directo acústico con David Lindley (¡qué bueno eres!) en 2006



Una versión algo más enchufada:



La letra de la coplilla:

In the morning when I closed my eyes
You were sleeping in paradise
And while the room was growing light
I was holding still with all my might

Oh--what if it's true
...What my heart says
Oh--what'll I do
What if this feeling becomes hard to part with

You were meant to play your part
In the design of a desperate heart
And while you gave your love to me
I was betting I was getting it free

Oh-- If I'd only known
...What your heart cost
Oh-- can we call it a loan
And a debt that I owe
On a bet that I lost

In the evening when you see my eyes
Looking back at you, no disguise
I'm not sure who you think you'll see
I'm just hoping you'll still know that it's me

Oh-- what if it's true
...Better ask the man inside
Oh, oh-- there seem to be two
One steals the love, and the other one hides.

Yeah-- can we call it a loan
Till I'm paid in full for the seeds I've sown
Yeah-- can we say that I've grown
In someway that we may have yet to be shown

Oh-- if I'd only known
...What your heart cost
Oh-- can we call it a loan
And a debt that I owe
On a bet that I lost

Recordando una de las mejores versiones de Pearl Jam

Hoy he decidido que es un buen día para recordar una de las mejores versiones realizadas por Pearl Jam: "Crazy Mary". Publicado originalmente en "Sweet Relief", un tributo a Victoria Williams autora del tema.
La verdad es que podría estar en cualquiera de los grandes álbumes de Pearl Jam porque es de lo mejorcito de ellos.

Os dejo un clip de un directo en Santiago de Chile (por cierto, Kenneth Gaspar se sale con el órgano xD! Y Mike McCready, como siempre, de 10)



Aquí os dejo la letra:
She lived on the curve in the road in an old tar paper shack.
On the south side of the town on the wrong side of the tracks.
Sometimes on the way into town we'd say, "Mama can we stop and give her a ride?"
Sometimes we did but her hands flew from her side.
Wild eyed crazy Mary.

Down a long dirt road past the Parson's place.
That old blue car we used to race.
Little country store with a sign tacked to the side.
Said 'NO LOITERING ALLOWED.'
Underneath that sign always congregated quite a crowd.

Take a bottle drink it down.
Pass it around.
Take a bottle drink it down.
Drink it...
Pass it around.
Pass it a...
A-take a bottle drink it down.
Pass it...
Pass it a...
Pass it around.

One night thunder cracked.
Mercy backed outside her windowsill.
Dreamed I was flying high above the trees over the hills.
Looked down into the house of Mary.
Terrible thoughts. Newspaper covered walls.
And Mary rising up above it all.
Oh... Oh... Oh...

Next morning on the way into town saw some skid marks and
followed them around.
Over the curve, through the fields,
into the house of Mary.
That what you fear the most could meet you halfway. (x2)

Take a bottle drink it down.
Pass it around.
Take a bottle drink it down.
Pass it...
Pass it around.
Pass it a...

Take a bottle drink it down.
Pass it...
Pass it a...
Pass it around.

Oh, pass it a...
Pass it arround.
Pass it a...
Pass it a...
Pass it a...
Oh yeah.