nedjelja, 08.05.2005.
razlozi moje zabrinutosti
čitatelji cijenjeni!
evo, kako me čitate povremeno već duže od godinu dana (a izgleda kao da je bilo jučer, oh), tako i znate da u mom životu glazba ima veliku, veliku ulogu. za sebe bi rekla da imam nekog pojma o toj istoj, bez lažne skromnosti. ali, na veliku, veliku, VELIKU moju štetu, kroz zadnjih nekoliko godina više sam se orijentirala na stranu glazbenu scenu i potpuno zapostavila domaću. velim nažalost, jer sam tim zanemarivanjem sebi uskratila vrhunska poučna djela koja naša estrada izrodi svako malo.
večeras sam, eto, mirno gledala tv i naletila na jednu tv emisiju. a u tv emisiji apsolutni hit mladog i probitačnog «glazbenika» luke-retard-nižetića (ispričavam se svima koji stvarno jesu glazbenici, ne podcjenjujem ja vaš naporan rad), koji je eto, igrom slučaja naletio na osebujnog tekstopisca (a nije vjekoslava huljić) koji je, kako će se dati zaključiti iz pjesme, dobro upoznat sa socijalno – ekonomskim stanjem u državi.
ajmo, dakle strofu po strofu analizirati to vrhunsko djelo hrvatske estrade(iz perspektive ženskih roditelja onih koje ekšuali slušaju ovaj i slične proljeve).
Dosta mi je da se ljubimo po parkovima
Preko glave mi je seks po tuđim stanovima
Evo mlad sam zdrav sam Bogu hvala al' nisam kao svi
Jer dva su bubrega normala a ja ih imam tri
Primijetite provokaciju upotrebom riječi SEKS. Zaista šokantno. A mame ga još uvijek smatraju idealnim zetom. Kako i neće kad ima bubreg viška. Nikad ne znaš kad ti može zatribati...
Prodat ću bubreg
Kupit ćemo stan
Nije loše za početak
Imam dobar plan
jebiga, u ovom dijelu mame se već malo razočarane jerbo mali luka želi prodati taj gratis bubreg za stan. «ali dobro», misli mama, «pa svi bi tako postupili, teško je u današnje vrime. možda bi ga uspila nagovorit na neki popust priko veze.» mama nadalje zaključuje da je mali ipak dobar jer je skroman, želi samo stan, a skromnost je još uvik vrlina.
Prodat ću bubreg
A u novom stanu
Ljubit ću te noću
A ti kuhat ćeš po danu
Hranu domaću i stranu
Hranu genetsku i pravu
E, u ovom dijelu situacija se opet okreće protiv našeg luke, jer mama popizdi zbog očiglednog nemorala na koji će njenu kćer navesti gore spomenuti. uz sve to, on bi još i da ona njemu kuha! a kao da to nije dovoljno, još je navodi na ne KUPUJE HRVATSKO iz čega raspižđena majka zaključi da je mali nezahvalni nerodoljub.
Što da radim teške radove na krovu
Ionako trebam neku brzu lovu
Kada dadoh srce tebi da bi i ja sretan bio
Što za sreću dao ne bi jedan tijela novi dio
ovdje majčina raspižđenost poprima svemirske razmjere jer je uz sve to, luka još i neradnik koji se želi obogatiti prodajom vlastitog tijela. samo je, dakle, pitanje vremena kad će mu ta zarada postati nedovoljna, pa će i njenu kćer nagovoriti na prodaju njenog da bi podmirio svoje potrebe.
Doktora ću pitat da li srca ljubav mogu isprat kiše
Jer pod otvorenim nebom ja ne mogu s tobom spavat više
ovaj dio mama je jedva čula jer je negdje oko
«ljubav mogu isprat kiše» srušila podnu svjetiljku na putu do kćerine sobe gdje je nesretnici liniju i cd-ove deložirala kroz prozor sobe i zabranila joj danje svijetlo do iduće pomrčine sunca.
nakon svega ovog, u priči dakle ostaju raspižđena mama, nesretna kći pred samoubojstvom i zabrinuta ja.
jer je lako moguće da sličnih slučajeva ima u real lifeu. i da nisu usamljeni.
što implicira da hrvatskoj mladeži nikako ne smijemo svijet ostavljati.
jer bi moglo biti svega.
- 23:49 -
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And maybe you're the Circle Line girl, trying so hard not to let on you know I'm looking at the way your toes poke out through your sandals, at funny angles to your feet, and how you know it turns me on
Or maybe you're the Spanish girl, playing with your hair as you wait for your friend in that wild octagon of mirrors the Tate calls a coffee shop ..... And I can smell that hair from here, and I can see from eight different angles the way your nipples look through that thin black cotton top, reflected to infinity ..... And oh God it's places like that and purple-tipped prose like this, that's going to haemorrhage me girl .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
Or maybe you're the bay window girl in Wandsworth Town, in ripped jeans and open venetians, painting the difficult corner of an empty room white under a naked bulb, leaning across the bar at the top of your stepladder at the precise moment I'm passing on the steep street at the bottom of your garden in the gathering night ..... voyeur's delight
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
Or maybe you're the foundation painter at the Central School, looking so fine-boned I could carry you home in your portfolio case, laced up gently so you won't cry out on the bus and give the game away, tied up lightly, because girl, how could I knowingly injure someone with your perfect lips and wrists, your exquisite structure ..... Oh little acrylic painter, I can kiss eggshells, I can be ginger, all the critics say I'm such a sensitive singer .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
And maybe you're listening to my voice now, on your Walkman or your bedsit Dansette, letting my songs slip into you on this quiet night in with your pads of doodles and your fingers full of pencils and low tar cigarettes ..... And the music's light and pleasant so you hardly notice what I'm singing about in 'Paper Wraps Rock' and 'Murderers, the Hope of Women', my voice is just a sound that pleases you, that enters you and leaves you just the same, and that's how I want it to stay, because, you know .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
But some of those were bitter records, records which accuse women, girls like you, of using your attractiveness wantonly and wilfully to trap and to paralyse men who wanted you and could never have you, men who sometimes felt the perverse urge to trash the women they desired the most, men who imagined they despised all those immaculate visions ..... what adolescent crap, what kind of idiot would sing that? Oh, not me because, you know .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
But sometimes I think that every man who writes, every man who paints or composes, deep soul or symphonies, it makes no difference, all those men are only making do with substitutes: Solomon, Confucius, Franz Kafka, they'd never have done it if they'd been as beautiful as you, sitting cross-legged there with gentle music lapping around a promise, there where your thighs meet, of fertility a million artists couldn't compete with
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
And all the time I see you there in the eye of my mind, and all that cheap macho stuff about de Sade and misogyny vanishes into thin air and I'm moved to tears just like any other sucker who's been bruised by all the things that weren't to be, and yet who's ready to fall down on his knees in front of a woman and say "Whatever you may do, whatever you may be to me, despite the times we disagree, your ridiculous ambitions, your conventional inhibitions, I want you to know that I respect you, I accept you and I want you to accept me, I want to kiss you, kiss your stockinged knee, accept the uniquely soft flesh on the undersides of your hips"
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
glupe, besmislene i nadasve komične svakodnevne izjave...da niste ni svjesni koliko su glupe
1. pribit ću te ko vola u kupusu (???)
2.ubiti oko (livo ili desno?)
3.najebat ko žuti (kako to žuti, pobogu, najebaje?)
4.ritko na plitko
5. ...puca pogled
6. obukla si se u široke gaće
7. raspojasa si se
8. jadna ti maništra
9. pijan ko majka
10. prodavat muda pod bubrige
11. s koljena na koljeno
12. na licu mjesta
13. nisan ja veslo cica
14. na sto muka
15. na po uha
16. aj ti tuda
17. baš si neka (kakva?)
18. idi doma gazit zelje
19. za babino brašno
20. ni vrit ni mimo
)