everybody's queen for a day
Street Hassle, 1978. Lou Reed. Un disc rodó, dels meus preferits. Una obra ben feta, i reflexionar sobre ella serveix per a qualsevol altra manifestació artística, sigui el que sigui l’art. EN aquest, cas, un crit, un crit de moltes coses. Desordenat, caòtic. Brut. Sensible, cruel, desesperat a voltes. EL produeix, toca el baix i la guitarra indistintament. El grava en un equip de música experimenta, que falla i dona un so enganxós, poc definit, de vegades raspós i intimista, sense definició d’aguts. El disc es fa pista sobre pista, amb solos de guitarra que acompanyen el so del disc i el realcen, el subratllen i són conseqüents amb ell. Les bases rítmiques, tradicionalment elaborades, en el rock, amb un baix i una bateria, es perverteixen en aquest disc, perquè tots els instruments, pràcticament, toquen en obstinat en tot moment, realçant les lletres, treballadíssimes, explícites, variades, protagonistes en tot moment. En Lou canta sense cantar, com sempre, amb poques inflexions de veu, d’una manera plana, massa a prop del micròfon, amb problemes d’afinació. Llogant cantants per quan els passatges són massa complicats, jugant, de vegades, amb la pròpia rudesa de la seva veu, amb trencar l’harmonia dels coixins sonors gairebé violentament.
La canço central del disc és la que el titula, Street Hassle. EN ella, Lou Reed descriu una duríssima història d’amor. D’amor pur, del que només es pot manifestar fora d’aquest món. Del que només té sentit fugint, escapant. De l’instantani, del que es consumeix en ell mateix. Del que és pur succés, sense res més que un continu present i, potser, una recapitulació quan tens la capacitat de sortir d’ell. Com a l’interludi, cantat en gospel, sense paraules, per Bruce Springsteen, en l’única col.laboració grabada que li conec amb Lou Reed. Una cançó pura, també, etèria, fràgil. Bruce canta lluny del micro, el volum esta baix i desapareix la instrumentació, un quartet de corta que acaba essent rellevat per una guitarra que repeteix, obsessivament, el mateix obstinat, sense variar-lo en cap moment. Obstinat en violoncel, en guitarra, en baix, altra cop en guitarra, solos gairebé minimalistes, molt greus, i en Bruce dient, al final de la cançó però dins d’ella, que la cançó és bella.
Street Hassle
A) waltzing matilda
Waltzing matilda whipped out her wallet
The sexy boy smiled in dismay
She took out four twenties ’cause she liked round figures
Everybody’s a queen for a day
Oh, babe, I’m on fire and you know how I admire your -
- body why don’t we slip away
Although I’m sure you’re certain, it’s a rarity me flirtin’
Sha-la-la-la, this way
Oh, sha-la-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la-la
Hey, baby, come on, let’s slip away
Luscious and gorgeous, oh what a hunk of muscle
Call out the national guard
She creamed in her jeans as he picked up her means
From off of the formica topped bar
And cascading slowly, he lifted her wholly
And boldly out of this world
And despite people’s derision
Proved to be more than diversion
Sha-la-la-la, later on
And then sha-la-la-la-la, he entered her slowly
And showed her where he was coming from
And then sha-la-la-la-la, he made love to her gently
It was like she’d never ever come
And then sha-la-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la-la
When the sun rose and he made to leave
You know, sha-la-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la-la
Neither one regretted a thing
B) street hassle
Hey, that cunt’s not breathing
I think she’s had too much
Of something or other, hey, man, you know what I mean
I don’t mean to scare you
But you’re the one who came here
And you’re the one who’s gotta take her when you leave
I’m not being smart
Or trying to be cold on my part
And I’m not gonna wear my heart on my sleeve
But you know people get all emotional
And sometimes, man, they just don’t act rational
They think they’re just on tv
Sha-la-la-la, man
Why don’t you just slip her away
You know, I’m glad that we met man
It really was nice talking
And I really wish that there was a little more time to speak
But you know it could be a hassle
Trying to explain myself to a police officer
About how it was that your old lady got herself stiffed
And it’s not like we could help
But there was nothing no one could do
And if there was, man, you know I would have been the first
But when someone turns that blue
Well, it’s a universal truth
And then you just know that bitch will never fuck again
By the way, that’s really some bad shit
That you came to our place with
But you ought to be more careful around the little girls
It’s either the best or it’s the worst
And since I don’t have to choose
I guess I won’t and I know this ain’t no way to treat a guest
But why don’t you grab your old lady by the feet
And just lay her out on the darkened street
And by morning, she’s just another hit and run
You know, some people got no choice
And they can’t never find a voice
To talk with that they can even call their own
So the first thing that they see
That allows them the right to be
Why they follow it, you know, it’s called bad luck
C) slipaway
Believe me, that it’s just a lie
That’s what she tells her friends
’cause the real song, the real song
Which she won’t even admit to herself
Beat narrow heart, the song lots of people know
It’s a painful song
It’ll only say the truth
It lasts for sad songs
Penny for a wish
A wish won’t make you a soldier
A pretty kiss or a pretty face
Can’t have it’s way
The tramps like us who were born to play
Love is gone away
And there’s no one here now
And there’s nothing left to say
But, oh, how I miss him, baby
Oh, baby, come on and slip away
Come on, baby, why don’t you slip away
Love is gone away
Took the rings off my fingers
And there’s nothing left to say
But, oh how, oh how I need him, baby
Come on, baby, I need you baby
Oh, please don’t slip away
I need your loving so bad, babe
Please don’t slip away
