Jag är ledsen, men jag måste avrunda Straight to Hell med Washington Bullets

(Insåg även att jag nu älskat detta fantastiska, politiska, drivna, insprerade och frustrerade band i 10 år. Ett helt jäkla decennium.)

Washington Bullets (Låt 23, från trippelalbumet Sandinista, från 1980.)
Oh! Mama, Mama look there!
Your children are playing in that street again
Don’t you know what happened down there?
A youth of fourteen got shot down there
The Kokane guns of Jamdown Town
The killing clowns, the blood money men
Are shooting those Washington bullets again

As every cell in Chile will tell
The cries of the tortured men
Remember Allende, and the days before,
Before the army came
Please remember Victor Jara,
In the Santiago Stadium,
Es verdad – those Washington Bullets again

And in the Bay of Pigs in 1961,
Havana fought the playboy in the Cuban sun,
For Castro is a colour,
Is a redder than red,
Those Washington bullets want Castro dead
For Castro is the colour…
…That will earn you a spray of lead

Sandinista!

For the very first time ever,
When they had a revolution in Nicaragua,
There was no interference from America
Human rights in America

Well the people fought the leader,
And up he flew…
With no Washington bullets what else could he do?
Sandinista!

‘N’ if you can find a Afghan rebel
That the Moscow bullets missed
Ask him what he thinks of voting Communist…
…Ask the Dalai Lama in the hills of Tibet,
How many monks did the Chinese get?
In a war-torn swamp stop any mercenary,
‘N’ check the British bullets in his armoury
Que?
Sandinista!

En av Joe Stummers bästa politiska texter (i en låt som både fastnar på hjärnan, samt lär hemsöka dig)

(Kan inte somna, fyller 25 imorgon och lysstnar istället på The Clash i mörkret.)

Straight to Hell (låt nr 6, från Combat Rock från 1982)

If you can play on the fiddle
How’s about a British jig and reel?
Speaking king’s English in quotation
As railhead towns feel the steel mills rust water froze
In the generation
Clear as winter ice
This is your paradise

There ain’t no need for ya
Go straight to hell boys

Why’ want to join in a chorus
Of the Amerasian blues?
When it’s Christmas out in Ho Chi Minh City
Kiddie say Papa Papa Papa Papa-San take me home
See me got photo photo
Photograph of you
Mamma Mamma Mamma-San
Of you and Mamma Mamma Mamma-San
Lemme tell ya ‘bout your blood bamboo kid.
It ain’t Coca-Cola it’s rice.

Straight to hell
Oh Papa-San
Please take me home
Oh Papa-San
Everybody they want to go home
So Mamma-San says

You want to play mind-crazed banjo
On the druggy-drag ragtime U.S.A.?
In Parkland International
Hah! Junkiedom U.S.A.
Where procaine proves the purest rock man groove
And rat poison
The volatile molatov says-

Pssst…
Hey Chico we got a message for ya…
Vamos vamos muchacho
From alphabet city all the way a to z, dead, head

Go straight to hell

Can you really cough it up loud and strong
The immigrants
They want to sing all night long
It could be anywhere
Most likely could be any frontier
Any hemisphere
No man’s land and there ain’t no asylum here
King Solomon he never lived round here

Go straight to hell boys

The Jam

The Jam, News of the World

Power, Pop!
Read about the things that happen throughout the world
Don’t be believe in everything you see or hear
The neighbours talk day in day out about the goings on
They tell us what they want – they don’t give an inch

Look at the pictures taken by the cameras they cannot lie
The truth is in what you see – not what you read
Little men tapping things out – points of view
Remember their views are not the gospel truth

Don’t believe it all
Find out for yourself
Check before you spread
News of the world

Never doubt
Never ask
Never moan
Never search
Never find
Never know

Each morning our key to the world comes through the door
More than often its just a comic, not much more
Don’t take it too serious – not many do
Read between the lines and you’ll find the truth

Read all about it, read all about it – news of the world

Kieran Leonard, Air Raid

This Ghost Train wont sleep tonight, I sit and watch the feedback dance Some are born to strange delight

Well I mixed your drinks just out of spite.A deerstalker and a smoking pipe. I think Ill solve a crime tonight.A broken clock, an old teapot Is this the case that Holmes forgot?

 

Little did he know This is where the story goes…

Im reading books about cars driving off bridges.

 

Air Raid shelter, Helter Skelter

All you want is everything

Cause youve been raised by television

Darling I think somethings missing

Pop songs, smoking guns

Robert Johnsons just a unit shifter.

Well Ive been watching television

And now it seems my legs are missing

 

Dawn bleeds out over Soho town, Theres a taste in my mouth The wine wont wash down.As you rolled cigArettes from the Old TestamentAnd we made up nicknames

That we would both later regret

 

Well Im not the king Of absolutely anything

But I once read a book By A MAN CALLED Vladimir Nabokov who seemed to know a lot of stuff.

Air Raid shelter, Helter Shelter

All you want is everything

Well Ive been raised by television

Darling I think somethings missing now

Pop songs, smoking guns

Robert Johnsons just a unit shifter,

Well Ive been watching television

And now it feels my lifes gone missing.

 

These are the ways you can break apart well Im not coming down…

Forget your job, forget your money spend your time just being

funny.

I see you fade away, don´t ever fade away

Väldigt spännande att kolla in tidningen i morse, där den låg på köksbordet. De tycks äntligen ha producerat lite resultat där borta på Cern. Började med att läsa igenom DN:s artikel, och gick sen vidare med den lite svårare – SvD. Det är synd egentligen, för en del av mig är lite utav en vetenskapsnörd, men tyvärr förstår jag inte så mycket när det kommer till saker som teoretisk fysik. Den typen av intelligens som behövs för att förstå sånt har inte jag, jag är helt enkelt allt för mycket styrd av höger hjärnhalva. Men trots det älskar jag att läsa Illustrerad vetenskap, Forskning och framsteg, liksom att kolla på allt från Vetenskapens värld till det mesta om djur och natur (speciellt om det är med Sir David Attenborough.) Så när jag väl var klara med morgontidningen lyssnade jag på Vetandes värld, i P1, om fynden gjorde med the Large Hadron Collider. Och som sagt, jag tycker det är super intressant – men jag blir också väldigt frustrerad när jag i princip inte förstår någonting av grafiken som var en del av SvD:s artikel. Kvarkar, leptoner, stark och svag kraft och higgsfältet… Gick också igenom min faders hög av gamla Illustrerad vetenskap, i jakt på med läsmaterial om experimenten i Schweiz. Tyvärr fann jag ingenting i den ämnes sfären, men klippte dock ut en del sidor – bland annat ”Psykologi avslöjar mördare”, ”Ny förklaring på autism, ”Tänk om… historien tagit en annan vändning”, ”Vår fria vilja kan vara en illusion”  och ”Varför sover vi?” Det ska bli intressant.

Och jag avslutar med en av mina favorit Joy Division  låtar, apropå Eighties-programmet jag såg under helgen.

Joy Division Digital

Feel it closing in,
Feel it closing in,
The fear of whom I call,
Every time I call,
I feel it closing in,
I feel it closing in,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out.

I feel it closing in,
As patterns seem to form.
I feel it cold and warm.
The shadows start to fall.
I feel it closing in,
I feel it closing in,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out.

I’d have the world around,
To see just whatever happens,
Stood by the door alone,
And then it’s fade away.
I see you fade away.
Don’t ever fade away.
I need you here today.
Don’t ever fade away.
Don’t ever fade away.
Don’t ever fade away.
Don’t ever fade away.
Fade away. fade away.
Fade away. fade away.
Fade away. fade away.
Fade away