”Tradimento e Perdono” è dedicata a Luigi Tenco, a Marco Pantani e Agostino Di Bartolomei. Tre Campioni nel loro mondo, segnati da un tragico destino. Non è un tema semplice, quello che affronta Venditti, ma quello che ne esce è un brano intenso e dal forte impatto emotivo.
Dal profondo del tempo come un rimpianto ora rinasci tu quel sorriso sgomento anche se hai vinto non mi tormenta più mi ricorda Luigi pieno di amici solo e lasciato lì se ci fosse attenzione per il campione oggi sarebbe qui se ci fosse più amore per il campione oggi saresti qui Mi ricordi di Marco e di un albergo nudo e lasciato lì era San Valentino l'ultimo arrivo e l'hai tagliato tu questo mondo coglione piange il campione quando non serve più ci vorrebbe attenzione verso l'errore oggi sarebbe qui se ci fosse più amore per il campione oggi saresti qui Ricordati di me mio capitano cancella la pistola dalla mano tradimento e perdono fanno nascere un uomo ora rinasci tu quel sorriso sgomento anche se hai vinto non mi tormenta più Ricordati di me mio capitano cancella la pistola dalla mano tradimento e perdono fanno nascere un uomo ora rinasci tu quel sorriso sgomento anche se hai vinto non mi tormenta più
Today begins a series of posts about Marco Pantani, an Italian road racing cyclist widely regarded as being one of the best climbers of all time in professional road bicycle racing. The zenith of his career was winning both the Tour de France and the Giro d'Italia in 1998. The bandana he often wore and his attacking style of riding led to him being dubbed 'Il Pirata' (the pirate) by the adoring fans. However, his career was beset by drug abuse allegations, following his failure of a blood test in the 1999 Giro d'Italia. He died of a cocaine overdose in 2004, the 14th of february.
Dopo l’omaggio al poeta Dino Campana, il cantautore Francesco Bejor è tornato in studio di registrazione per incidere un nuovo brano scritto di getto subito dopo la triste notizia della morte di Marco Pantani. Dove osano i pirati, questo il titolo, è una ballata priva di ritornello, dedicata al campione del ciclismo, alle sue ascese immortali ed alle sue umane cadute, a tutti i sogni ed a tutte le emozioni che ha saputo regalare nel corso della sua vita sportiva. Le parole, semplici e sentite, vengano direttamente dallanima e, come tali, pesano, pesano tonnellate. La musica, scritta sempre da Bejor con gli arrangiamenti di Fabio Sartoni e Gabriele Bertozzi, ha un incalzare docile, ma deciso ed è sostenuta da una ritmica di basso e batteria che, soprattutto nella parte iniziale del brano, vuol far sentire la fatica ed il sudore della salita, dove Pantani aveva saputo esprimersi al meglio. La chitarra elettrica graffia con forza, spingendo il campione scomparso su, lungo questa salita immaginaria, con gli archi che conferiscono al lavoro quel tocco delicato che colpisce il cuore.
Sei partito in bicicletta, tra le rose di un hotel,
verso cime senza tempo che aspettavan proprio te, con il cuore di un bambino capriccioso e un po' retrò un bambino di Romagna, che sgrana gli occhi e dice "e ciò". Son finite le parole, ti accompagnan il nostro sguardo mentre fili come un razzo, dritto verso il tuo traguardo, e le folle del passato siano intorno a te le ali, dell'affetto che è mancato, quando eri tra i mortali. E ora scorrono i fiumi, pieni di parole vane era meglio qualche fatto, quando eri solo come un cane, e i ricordi si accavallano nell'arco di un momento, come tante bici al sole che arrancano nel vento. Ma già sfrecci a testa bassa, sopra il piede benedetto di un San Pietro inferocito che t'apostrofa in dialetto e ti urla: "oggi è chiuso, si riapre da domani" ma tu pedali e gli rispondi: "fam pasè, cà so Pantani". E noi che siamo figuranti, salutiamo te campione che hai saputo far sognare questa mia generazione, e ora via quella bandana, con quei denti ben serrati scatta questa ultima volta, dove osano i pirati.
Conor Oberst assembled a special band in Mexico for this recording, known amongst themselves and to friends as The Mystic Valley Band. Members include Nate Walcott, Jason Boesel, Macey Taylor, Nik Freitas, and Taylor Hollingsworth. The result is his first solo album in thirteen years.
(…) and the one-two punch of "Souled Out!!!" and "Milk Thistle" that closes out the record forgives any transgressions. The former is the sound of a band that sounds like they could keep playing music for eternity with a grin on their faces and a laugh in their throats, a bar-band sing-a-long with a roaring guitar and pounding drums…
The Bario starts two streets over Miguel, he's a friend of mine With brick weed built a reputation Like dry ice in the summertime
Now all you need's an electric razor A magic bullet and a grassy knoll The whole world's just a little oyster To Snow White and the Poisoned Apples
I woke up in the age of wires I fell asleep at the dusk of man Now I'm cold - Fingers crossed in the Promised Land
But you won't be getting in (You know by now) No you won't be getting in (You know by now) No you won't be getting in (You know by now) All souled out - in heaven
The Bario starts two streets over Monsay, she's a friend of mine Keeps the peace like a whistle blower Flying kites in the wintertime
Magic carpet is the transportation Went to the moon in a soda can Not all my boys believe in science Stretching truth in the Promised Land
But you won't be getting in (You know by now) No you won't be getting in No you won't be getting in (You know by now) It's souled out - in heaven
You know by now You know by now You know by now That you won't be getting in (You know by now) That you won't be getting in (You know by now) No you won't be getting in It's souled out - in heaven
No you won't be getting in (You know by now) No you won't be getting in (You know by now) No you won't be getting in (You know by now) To heaven (You know by now) To heaven (You know by now) To heaven
Damien Jurado is a singer/songwriter in the indie-rock tradition of Seattle, Washington.
The first Ep contains two songs about bicycle: “Bicycle” and “Broken Chain”.
I got a bicycle
With new reflectors Colorful streamers Ride past my neighbors
I got this brand new bike It's just a bicycle It's got a basket And it rings it sings
And all the kids they flip me off As I am riding by They just want my b-i-k-e It's m-i-n-e mine
I got a bicycle With new reflectors Colorful streamers Ride past my neighbors
And all the kids they want my bike Cause they know it is the best All the kids they want my bike Cause it's better than the rest
All the kids they flip me off As I am flying by And they just want my All the kids they piss me off As I am riding by And they just want b-i-k-e It's m-i-n-e mine
Broken Chain
You got your bike It doesn't work The chain fell off You got your bike It doesn't work The chain fell off
Leave your helmet home You won't wear it anyway Leave your helmet home You won't wear it anyway
You got your car It doesn't work The wheel came off You got your car It doesn't work The wheel came off
So leave your seatbelt off You won't wear it anyway So leave your seatbelt off You won't wear it anyway
You got your bike It doesn't work The chain fell off You got your bike It doesn't work The chain fell of
Leave your helmet home You won't wear it anyway Leave your helmet home You won't wear it anyway Anyway Anyway
“Week End”, “Schiavo senza catene”, “Teorema” e “Bicicletta” sono nate a Macugnaga, in montagna, durante un fine settimana di settembre del 1980. Io tra una passeggiata e l'altra raccontavo la mia storia e di sera intorno al camino con Herbert Pagani creavamo con la chitarra quelle bellissime canzoni.
Come un fiume scorre lentamente questa mia città E nel traffico intasato volo io Tra lumache di lamiera elegante come un Dio Vado via sulla mia nuova bicicletta
Ho davanti la campagna e dietro la periferia E pedalo piano piano verso nord Girasoli, granoturco, che mi frega del Concorde Vado via sulla mia nuova bicicletta
Mille raggi fra le gambe come un doppio sole E c’ho quattro cambi di velocità È leggera non inquina, non consuma e poi Non fa rumore, questa sì che è civiltà
Fazzoletti di lattuga i parchi, oasi senza gas… Vado anch’io sulla mia nuova bicicletta
Mille raggi fra le gambe come un doppio sole E c’ho quattro cambi di velocità È leggera non inquina, non consuma e poi Non fa rumore questa sì che è civiltà…
È un piroscafo di luce nella sera la città E un po’ stanco ma contento torno io Il comune di Milano dice “su due ruote vai” Vado anch’io, “ma che roba ‘sta bicicletta”
Kinnie Starr is a Canadian singer-songwriter from Calgary, Alberta. Her music, which blendship hop and alternative rock, has been described as "hip hop aggro groove".
Starr is vocal about her Aboriginal heritage (her father, Michael Starr, is mixed-blood Mohawk) both in her music and her life.
Fourty days and fourty nights Have gone by without a bird in sight Can't believe the emptyness of the sky Can't believe the fumes of the cars As they pass you by On the road to feed her all the seed of gra... Of your grandma's bicycle Grandma's bicycle
The soft feathers in the street Just precide the sidewalk For some mad weed into an early street Down down down to pick 'em up Put 'em in his pocket I followed him About a, about a block And inside he goes into the nearest stewartist shop
Goes like an indian, the feathers he sold Then made some small coin and laughed at my face When he told me what he told them When he told me what he told them, he said: "I am through with this old damn world and its overwhelming bad taste" "I am through with this old damn world and its overwhelming bad taste" "I am through with this old damn world and its overwhelming bad taste" "I am through with this old damn world and its overwhelming bad taste"
And then he told me: "The star below your eyes, You behave yourself and keep an open mind The streets are full of treasures And you can always find traces of birds The lovellyness they leave behind I'm not the soar with them We are the same kind Then many waved goodbye Floated up above the cloud line"
Waved goodbye floated up above the cloud line Waved goodbye floated up above the cloud line We waved goodbye floated up above the cloud line
Fourty days and fourty nights Have gone by without a bird in sight Can't believe the emptyness of the sky Can't believe the fumes of the cars As they pass you by On the road to feed her all the seed of gra... Of your grandma's bicycle Grandma's bicycle
Belle & Sebastian know your anguish, certainly, and in turn offer you just the right recipe for sublime transcendental cravings. Listen to "I Could Be Dreaming" for instance...it has perhaps the most complex production of any song on the album, with instruments, mixings, and overdubs weaving a textured backdrop that fits seamlessly with the suggestive lyrics presented in a rambling, stream of conscious fashion so as to evoke our inner most desires -- those sames ones strangled by daily inhibitions, only to awaken during our reveries.
I could have ordinary people chasing me from town to town Mission impossible They've got a spy for every blink of your eye
I’m feeling hunted I’m feeling haunted Theyve got a knife for every time you take the same train into work A familys like a loaded gun You point it in the wrong direction someones going to get killed
If you had such a dream Would you get up and do the things youve been dreaming
Is he your husband? Or just your boyfriend? Is he the moron whos been beating you and keeping you inside? Ive never done this kind of thing But if I kill him now, whos going to miss him?
I went up to the school I went up castlehill For every step there is a local boy who wants to be a hero Do you want to do it now? Outside the butchers with a knife and a bike chain.
