:up: :100:

That's XTC? I had them pegged as metal. This is downright jazzy.

On the same image of transcendence (and love) as a hot air balloon (sorry for the French, but Souchon's song mean a lot to me):


Without this fondness for a person
The beloved
Without the wings it gives you
To be loved
We stay at mud level (or "flush with the daisies" ?)
At mud level

Without this attraction that hovers
Over the world
Of which we are all addicted
Everyone
We stay at mud level

The desire to fly, so legitimate
Goes through being intimate

Without the words of jealousy
The fights
Handkerchiefs thrown from starting trains
At the station
We stay at mud level

If love is a hot air balloon
Life a short journey to take
Let's go up above the towns and countryside
Under the effect of our propane kisses
Light hearted
Light hearted aboard the baskets
Lovers fly in the sky
Leaving below the heavy hearts
Of those without love

Life without love and its delights
What's in it?
It's like a plane without a propeller
Useless
It stays at mud level

If love is a hot air balloon etc.

Without the cherished words of love
Adorable
Left over on the voice mails
Of cellphones
Without the balloons in our cradles
That flew away
Without the breasts of Sophie Marceau
What do we do?

We stay
We stay

XTC began more in New Wave and a bit of 70's post-punk bridging into psychedelic pop and art rock ended with a symphony orchestra.

This band has probably, for better or worse, been a major player in the 'soundtrack of my life'.

Making Plans for Nigel (1979) probably was their first big breakthrough, but honestly they never really bother with a breakthrough.



Generals and Majors (1980) put them on the dance floor.



Senses Working Overtime (1982) brought more attention to their lyrics as being less pop and more 'philosophicalish'.



Dear God (1987) made them quite the controversy.



Mayor of Simpleton (1989) is basically my life in an nutshell to that point in time; thus my persona.



EDIT:

I grew up in a very small town in rural Virginia (population less than 100). Country music, family values, Evangelical Christianity, conservative politics and hardliner Patriotism were the norms of my life.

Much like this:



I lived for import records finding ways to get to the only record store some 40 kilometers away from my home. XTC, The Cure, The Jam, The Damned, Killing Joke, The Vapors, Tubeway Army and Gary Newman, as well as Devo, B-52's, The Ramones, Bad Brains, Oingo Boingo are bands that tainted my upbringing and allowed me to in some way overcome it.

hmm...

“A serious and good philosophical work could be written consisting entirely of jokes.”

― Ludwig Wittgenstein

If jokes, why not pop music?

My poor understanding of philosophy came largely via pop music. My dyslexia made me not a reader, but instead a listener. Overcoming the dyslexia and learning another language was probably my only accomplishment worthy of noting.

Songs are us.

Overcoming the dyslexia and learning another language was probably my only accomplishment worthy of noting. — Mayor of Simpleton

I remember my German lessons from college:

Tear of Nature

Open window presents
Clouds of sparrows, fluttering of heaven
Wind blows, my nose is freezing
And a few exhaust pipes rattle

Ah, then sun is going down
Red, with gold, so it shall be
When I look down onto the street
I remember my acquaintance

Promptly now, my heart is getting heavy
I only need to see birds fluttering
And if my gaze then flies heavenwards
The soul will hurt as well, how nice

Nature in the evening, silent city
Wrenched soul, tears running
All of this makes you mighty weary
And I just keep on whining

Aaaaahhhhhhh...

BRILLIANT!!!

Oh, how I wish I was a polyglot, but I do have moxie.

True Story:

This doesn't belong in this section, but once in a Karaoke bar in Paris, (yes I found one!) after singing a few songs in English, receiving mixed reviews (so to say), I was asked if I could sing something in French.

As I knew next to no French outside of a few terms about food resulting from me having been a waiter and movement due to me taking a couple of Ballet classes, both decades earlier, I said:

"well... I know sort of one song, but how do I say it 'pardon my French, but this works for me".

Then I sang the following (possibly an unofficial French/Belgian National Anthem) phonetically having no idea what the words meant other than the title (translated to: this works for me) with lots of non-sarcastic applause and ending with me never having to pay for a drink in that bar again. It's not because they kicked me out, as two years later I came back and was requested by the owner himself to do it again.

Nice!

"Ca plane pour moi" means more that "it works for me"; it means "I'm gliding" or less literally "everything's super smooth for me".

My version had the same conviction, but the comic element of simply the wrong accent through and through... like this version:

I apologize for this, but I love this song so much in spite of still no knowing what is being said:

Haaaarrrrr that's pulsing all right.

In the same Belgian New Wave vibe, a cover of a 1950's song by Charles Trenet.

I posted a Mashup with Led Zeppelin in the other music thread (to anger the purists probably), but I do have one more that I find to be brilliant...

... as the risk of this becoming the next Rick Rolling:

You just made my day! (and my wife will probably want to kill you)

For me Belgium is a hot bed for music I love that I feel no one I know has ever heard of, but hey... I've heard of them. ;)

Thanks again!

TC Matic was a punk Belgium group whom I saw live in my youth.

Putain, putain
C'est vachement bien
Nous sommes quand même
Tous des Européens!

Can't speak of Euro post-punk scene without evoking Klaus Nomi and Kraftwerk.

That's just super!

I love this sort of thing, but I fear it really isn't exactly 'deep', but I don't mind.

I'm nearly inspired to post something from Iceland, as I picked up my old import album collection and have a great 'one off' in it.

Tappi Tíkarrass - Bítið Fast Í Vítið. I bought it in a 99 cent sale rack in the USA back in 1984. It's nearly mint... now an auction value of $1500, but I'll never sell it.

I feel what's deep here is this gave us Björk.

I just saw Kraftwerk last year. Excellent concert!

The first band I sort of really clicked on was French band Telephone, who had fantastic lyrics. I saw then three times in concert. They disbanded after a few excellent album. Here is the first song I heard of them. It's a metaphor about life being like a game of flipper. With lyrics such as "You're given three balls to play with; the first one, you're a kid; the second, you're a grown up; the third one, you're old. And then the last bumper sends you to the last hole. On your tomb is written: It's More Fun To Compete"... Profond, non?



On te donne trois balles
La première t'es un môme
Tu prends la cadence,
Tu entres dans la danse
Dans la violence des chocs
Tu comprends ta chance
Tu sais maintenant comment
Ton histoire commence

On joue sa vie comme on joue au flipper
Déjà tout môme on flippe de bumper en bumper
On gagne on perd, et toujours on espère
Pouvoir s'en refaire une petite
Gratuite, gratuite, gratuite, gratuite

On te donne trois balles
La deuxième t'es un grand
Il faut te démerder
Tu commences à ruser
Tu cherche un abri
Et quand tu l'as trouvé
Tu te vois éjecté
A vitesse grand V
Vers le bumper d'en face
Qui t'attend dans l'impasse

On joue sa vie etc.

Attention au tilt!
T'as perdu la boule mon gars!

On te donne trois balles
La troisième t'es un vieux
Vieux, vieux, vieux, vieux, vieux, vieux, trop vieux
Tu es très fatigué
Tu veux te reposer
Tu branles la machine
Tu courbes l'échine
Le dernier bumper
T'envoie dans le dernier trou
Sur ta tombe il y a écrit:
IT'S MORE FUN TO COMPETE

On joue sa vie etc.

Believe it or not this 'North American redneck' has an American Import copy of 'Dure Limite'.

WWWWWHHHHHHAAAATTTTTTTT? The LP?

Indeed the LP.

One of the few windows to the world where I grew up was a record store that had kind of a 'High Fidelity' vibe that was 40 kilometres away from where I lived. The owner and the guys who worked there had a pipeline to imports. The selection was quite extensive. Most of the people for that niche came from the more urban areas, as they could provide a lower price than in the cities. I was this weird 13 year old who was at the shopping area about twice a month with my family.

As shopping wasn't my thing I simply hung out at that shop for as much as 5 hours. After awhile they simply allowed me to listen to whatever I wanted, which for me was usually anything from far away... mostly Europe and Asia. My first ever purchase there was The Ramones: The Ramones, The B-52's: The B-52's, Devo: Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!, YMO: Solid State Survives, and XTC: Drums and Wires... it cost me all the money I'd save for the past year. Not too bad for a first time purchase. I still have all of them. (early on my sister would break a record of mine from time to time, so by 15 I discovered quality headphones and that she was an idiot in spite of her becoming school Valedictorian and testing with a 1600 on the SATs, then a perfect score)

I was accepted as one of them and was given a bit of special attention. I was a cyclist and would even ride my bike to the shop 50km there shop an hour and 50km back home as long as it didn't rain.

Dure Limite was an album I bought just before I graduated from High School in 83. It took awhile for it to arrive to the shop, but I bought it on the first day possible... I could drive then.

By the time the closed for good in 1984 I had a collection of just over 300 imports and rare pressings, mostly blind purchases or after listening to a single song. Needless to say I wasn't popular for my musical taste where I grew up, which might go to explain why I left over a quarter of a century ago and have never missed it whatsoever. (Although I college I did a student radio show called 'songs you wished you never heard'... of which most came from my private collection.)

As you said:

Songs are us. — Olivier5

Pretty much all of my development came via a long list of imports and music of which I couldn't even understand the lyrics, but no matter. All in all not to bad for a redneck hick from what is now deep in the heart of Trumplandia.

Anyway... something nice from Finland, deep or not:



Up and down and all the way around
Until there's one thing left
And you'll get to the middle of it
So what do you want?
What do you want?

Another one last chance for you to run fast
Another one last chance
In the faraway corner
Of the world
World

We make all the difference
We are all that matters
Just like an apple around its core
But it will finally happen
We'll get old
And wonder if it should feel like we were reborn

So up and down and all the way around
Until there's one thing left
And you'll get to the middle of it
So what do you want?
What do you want?

Had I fought in a war without you, I'm sure
I would be dust and bones
In a faraway corner
Of the world
World

We made all the difference
We were all that mattered
Just like an apple around its core
Then it finally happened
We got old

So up and down and all the way around
Until there's one thing left
And you'll get to the middle of it
So what do you want?
What do you want?

Another one last chance for you to run fast
Another one last chance
In the faraway corner
Of the world
World

But then it finally happened
We got old
And wondered if it should feel like we were reborn

Up and down and all the way around
It's always up and down and all the way around
Another up and down and all the way around
Another one last chance, another way around
It's always up and down and all the way around
Until there's one thing left and you'll get to the middle of it
So what do you want?
What do you want?

I still have all of them. — Mayor of Simpleton

You are lucky man. I have moved so many times in my life that I only have kept a dozen of my old LPs. Not that I ever bought a lot of them. There was a very nice modern library where we lived when I was a teen, one of these French socialist cities with big cultural agendas at the time. Context: this was just before Mitterrand's election as president in 81, the left was on the rise in the country for the first time in several decades. This brand new library has a huge comics section, which garnered my attention, as will as an extensive library of LPs, which you could listen on site with excellent headphones and armchairs... By the end of the three years I spent there, I had listened to pretty much all their thousands of pop LPs. Plus a few jazz ones.

My heart was for Patti Smith.


The boy was in the hallway drinking a glass of tea
From the other end of the hallway a rhythm was generating
Another boy was sliding up the hallway
He merged perfectly with the hallway,
He merged perfectly, the mirror in the hallway
The boy looked at Johnny, Johnny wanted to run,
But the movie kept moving as planned
The boy took Johnny, he pushed him against the locker,
He drove it in, he drove it home, he drove it deep in Johnny
The boy disappeared, Johnny fell on his knees,
Started crashing his head against the locker,
Started crashing his head against the locker,
Started laughing hysterically
When suddenly Johnny gets the feeling he's being surrounded by
Horses, horses, horses, horses
Coming in in all directions
White shining, silver studs with their nose in flames,
He saw horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses.
Do you know how to pony like bony maroney
Do you know how to twist, well it goes like this, it goes like this
Baby mash potato, do the alligator, do the alligator
And you twist the twister like your baby sister
I want your baby sister, give me your baby sister, dig your baby sister
Rise up on her knees, do the sweet pea, do the sweet pee pee,
Roll down on her back, got to lose control, got to lose control,
Got to lose control and then you take control,
Then you're rolled down on your back and you like it like that,
Like it like that, like it like that, like it like that,
Then you do the watusi, yeah do the watusi
Life is filled with holes, Johnny's laying there, in his sperm coffin
Angel looks down at him and says, "Oh, pretty boy,
Can't you show me nothing but surrender?"
Johnny gets up, takes off his leather jacket,
Taped to his chest there's the answer,
You got pen knives and jack knives and
Switchblades preferred, switchblades preferred
Then he cries, then he screams, saying
Life is full of pain, I'm cruisin' through my brain
And I fill my nose with snow and go Rimbaud,
Go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud,
And go Johnny go, and do the watusi, oh do the watusi
There's a little place, a place called space
It's a pretty little place, it's across the tracks,
Across the tracks and the name of the place is you like it like that,
You like it like that, you like it like that, you like it like that,
And the name of the band is the
Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes,
Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes
Baby calm down, better calm down,
On the night, in the eye of the forest
There's a mare black and shining with yellow hair,
I put my fingers through her silken hair and found a stair,
I didn't waste time, I just walked right up and saw that
Up there, there is a sea
Up there, there is a sea
Up there, there is a sea
The sea's the possibility
There is no land but the land (Up there is just a sea of possibilities)
There is no sea but the sea (Up there is a wall of possibilities)
There is no keeper of the key (Up there there are several walls of possibilities)
Except for one who seizes possibilities, one who seizes possibilities. (Up there)
I seize the first possibility, is the sea around me
I was standing there with my legs spread like a sailor
I felt his hand on my knee (On the screen)
And I looked at Johnny and handed him a branch of cold flame (In the heart of man)
The waves were coming in like Arabian stallions
Gradually lapping into sea horses
He picked up the blade and he pressed it against his smooth throat(The spoon)
And let it deep in (The veins)
Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities (It started hardening)
Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities
I put my hand inside his cranium, oh we had such a brainiac-amour
But no more, no more, I gotta move from my mind to the area
(Go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud)
And go Johnny go and do the watusi,
Yeah do the watusi, do the watusi
Shined open, coiled snakes white and shiny twirling and encircling
Our lives are now entwined, we will fall yes we're together twining
Your nerves, your mane of the black shining horse
And my fingers all entwined in your silky hair,
I could feel it, it was the hair going through my fingers,
The hairs were like wires going through my body
I, I that's how I
That's how I
I died (At that Tower of Babel they knew what they were after)
(They knew what they were after)
(Everything on the current) Moved up
I tried to stop it, but it was too warm, too unbelievably smooth,
Like playing in the sea, in the sea of possibility, the possibility
Was a blade, a shiny blade, I hold the key to the sea of possibilities
There's no land, but the land
Looked at my hands, and there's a red stream
That went streaming through the sands like fingers,
Like arteries, like fingers
He lay, pressing it against his throat (Your eyes)
He opened his throat (Your eyes)
His vocal chords started shooting like (of a horse) mad pituitary glands
The scream he made (and my heart) was so high (my heart) pitched that nobody heard,
No one heard that cry,
No one heard (Johnny) the butterfly flapping in his throat,
Nobody heard, he was on that bed, it was like a sea of jelly,
And so he seized the first (His vocal chords shot up)
It was a black tube, he felt himself disintegrate (There is nothing happening at all)
And go inside the black tube, so when he looked out into the steep
Saw this sweet young thing (Fender one)
Humping on the parking meter, leaning on the parking meter
In the sheets
There was a man
Dancing around
To the simple
Rock & roll
Song

Something a bit more recent, but still from the land of beer, pommes frites and chocolate:

If only for this few lines:

"I seem to have a history
At missing the point
At this stuff
Apparently...

Very absentmindedly
I care
But never enough
For you

Time to put the record straight
Time to stop communicating
Please anticipate

I'm trying to comprehend the things I write
And I'm living the lie that I cannot satisfy
Much against everyone's advice
I'm still trying, trying
I'm trying, I'm trying

Faith
Cheated me of everything
But I laughed until
I stopped

Publicly
Very, very openly
I sat alone with my thoughts for... "

... then 18 years later, for those who just like songs without lyrics.

OH... and I have a copy of this one too, but I bought it in Paris in 1979. My first trip to Europe with the High School Art Club.

Mais tu connais tout... :gasp:

You know KaS Product too?

That's great!

It seems familiar, but I can't remember the band or the track. Reminds me of a bit of Siouxsie Sioux with Soft Cell mixed in, so I guess that's why it seems somehow familiar.

Brilliant cold wave at it's best. This is going to be a new research topic for me. :100: :up:

Their first album was a big blast. The sounds were out of nowhere.

Do you remember a guy that's been
In such an early song?
I've heard a rumour from Ground Control
Oh no, don't say it's true
They got a message from the Action Man
"I'm happy, hope you're happy too
I've loved all I've needed to love
Sordid details following"
The shrieking of nothing is killing
Just pictures of Jap girls in synthesis
And I ain't got no money and I ain't got no hair
But I'm hoping to kick but this planet is glowing

Ashes to ashes, funk to funky
We know Major Tom's a junky
Strung out in heaven's high
Hitting an all-time Low

Time and again I tell myself
I'll stay clean tonight
But the little green wheels are following me
Oh no, not again
I'm stuck with a valuable friend
"I'm happy, hope you're happy too"
One flash of light, but no smoking pistol
I've never done good things
I've never done bad things
I never did anything
out of the blue,
(whoa whoa)
Want an axe to break the ice
Wanna come down right now

Ashes to ashes, funk to funky
We know Major Tom's a junkie
Strung out in heaven's high
Hitting an all-time Low

My mama said to get things done
You'd better not mess with Major Tom
My mama said to get things done
You'd better not mess with Major Tom
My mama said to get things done
You'd better not mess with Major Tom
My mama said to get things done
You'd better not mess with Major Tom ...

"Ashes to Ashes" (4:23)
Scary Monsters, 1980
David Bowie

*

"There must be some kind of way out of here"
Said the joker to the thief
"There's too much confusion
I can't get no relief
Businessmen, they
drink my wine
Plowmen dig my earth
None will level on the line
Nobody offered his word"
Hey, hey

"No reason to get excited"
The thief, he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us
Who feel that life is but a joke
But, uh,
but you and I, we've been through that
And this is not our fate
So let us stop talkin' falsely now
The hour's getting late"
Hey, hey!

All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants too
Well,
outside in the cold distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind
began to howl,
hey ...

All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower

"All Along The Watchtower" (4:01)
Electric Ladyland, 1968
performed by The Jimi Hendrix Experience
lyrics by Bob Dylan, 1967

""Feels Like Rain" Buddy Guy
(originally by John Hiatt)

Down here the river, meets the sea
And in the sticky heat I feel ya' open up to me
Love comes out of nowhere baby, just like a hurricane
And it feels like rain
And it feels like rain

Lying here, underneath the stars right next to you
And I'm wondering who you are and, how do you do? How do you do, baby?
The clouds roll in across the moon, and the wind howls out your name
And it feels like rain
And it feels like rain

We never going to make that bridge tonight baby
Across lake Ponchartrain
And it feels like rain
And it feel

Down here the river, meets the sea
And in the sticky heat I feel ya' open up to me
Love comes out of nowhere baby, just like a hurricane
And it feels like rain
And it feels like rain

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

You say I took the Name in vain
I don't even know the Name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Baby I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
but now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Maybe there's a God above
but all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's no complaint you hear tonight
It's not some pilgrim who's seen the light
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah