reconhecer a diferença

Os Casal do Leste nasceram em 2008 e poucos anos depois diziam que "o grupo escolheu adoptar a linguagem rock por ser a forma estética mais conservadora". Era brincadeira, mas também era parte da ideia: fazer uma coisa diferente dentro de algo conhecido. Apesar das mudanças de formação, mantiveram-se como uma banda rock "literária", que escreve (ou pede textos) sobre uma sociedade à margem ou em ruptura. A banda vai também buscar inspirações a escritores e poetas como Camus, Gomes Ferreira ou Carlos de Oliveira. E inventa versões de canções velhas, resgatando-lhes a potência revolucionária (por exemplo com Vitor Jara).

Eis um exemplo, Canção da Jorna, poema de Carlos de Oliveira. Neste caso, com colaboração de membros do coro da Achada.

https://casaldoleste.bandcamp.com/track/can-o-da-jorna

Notre combat est le même

Beethoven na revolução húngara de 1956

Porque se tornou a abertura Egmont, de Beethoven o hino da revolução húngara de 1956?
Há quem diga: a rádio húngara não tinha outro disco naqueles dias. Desconfio da explicação...

work song

"Work Song" (...)  should reflect the history of the black workers in the US, with elements of the soul jazz. This is the only truly representative composition in the album. It is actually a jazz tone poem depicting the old slave gangs as they did their back-brakeing work of "swinging that hammer". Driving stakes or laying railroad ties with all the oppression and problems the Black race had at that time. Notice the cannon-like sound of the piano which really simulates the blow of a sledge-hammer. This called a "cluster" on the piano. Because of the low register clusters and other rhythm section accents, we get a strong feeling of depression throughout the piece. However, there is a note of hope in the composition which is found in the words of the original melody: "Swing that hammer over your shoulder: get bolder and – BOLDER!" (from wikipedia)

Hanns Eisler cantado pelo próprio

Lied von der belebenden Wirkung des Geldes
Music: Hans Eisler
Text: Bertolt Brecht

Niedrig gilt das Geld auf dieser Erden
Und doch ist sie, wenn es mangelt, kalt
Und sie kann sehr gastlich werden
Plötzlich durch des Gelds Gewalt.
Eben war noch alles voll Beschwerden
Jetzt ist alles golden überhaucht
Was gefroren hat, das sonnt sich
Jeder hat das, was er braucht!
Rosig färbt der Horizont sich
Blicket hinan: der Schornstein raucht!

Tja, da schaut sich alles gleich ganz anders an
Voller schlägt das Herz, der Blick wird weiter
Reichlich ist das Mahl, flott sind die Kleider
Und der Mann ist jetzt ein and'rer Mann
Und der Mann ist jetzt ein and'rer Mann!

Ach, sie gehen alle in die Irre
Die da glauben, dass am Geld nichts liegt
Aus der Fruchtbarkeit wird Dürre
Wenn der gute Strom versiegt!
Jeder schreit nach was und nimmt es wo er's kriegt
Eben war noch alles nicht so schwer
Wer nicht grade Hunger hat, verträgt sich
Jetzt ist alles herz- und liebeleer!
Vater, Mutter, Brüder – alles schlägt sich
Sehet: der Schornstein, er raucht nicht mehr!

Überall dicke Luft, die uns gar nicht gefällt
Alles voller Hass und voller Neider
Keiner will mehr Pferd sein, jeder Reiter
Und die Welt ist eine kalte Welt
Und die Welt ist eine kalte Welt!

So ist's auch mit allen Guten und Großen
Es verkümmert rasch in dieser Welt
Denn mit leerem Magen und mit bloßen
Füßen ist man nicht auf Größe eingestellt!
Man will nicht das Gute, sondern Geld
Und man ist von Kleinmut angehaucht
Aber wenn der Gute etwas Geld hat
Hat er doch, was er zum Gutsein braucht!
Wer sich schon auf Untat eingestellt hat
Blicke hinan: der Schornstein raucht!

Tja, da glaubt man wieder an das menschliche Geschlecht
Edel sei der Mensch, gut und so weiter
Die Gesinnung wächst, sie war geschwächt
Fester schlägt das Herz, der Blick wird breiter!
Man erkennt, was Pferd ist und was Reiter
Und so wird aus Recht erst wieder Recht
Und so wird aus Recht erst wieder Recht!

English Translation

The value of money is low on earth.

And yet it's cold, if there is a lack of it.

And it can be very hospitable

Suddenly, through the power of money.

A minute ago everything was full of complaints

Now everything is tinged with gold.

What has frozen, is now basking in the sun.

Everyone has what he needs.

The horizon is rose colored.

Gaze upwards: the chimney smokes!

Yes, soon everything looks completely different.

Full of heart beats. The gaze goes onward.

Generous meals. Stylish clothes.

And the man is now another man! 

etc...

(Translation: Milagro Vargas)

Outra canção de Malvina Reynolds, mas desta vez cantada pela Joan Baez

What Have They Done To The Rain

Just a little rain falling all around
The grass lifts its head to the heavenly sound
Just a little rain, just a little rain
What have they done to the rain
Just a little boy standing in the rain
The gentle rain that falls for years
And the grass is gone, the boy disappears
And rain keeps falling like helpless tears
And what have they done to the rain
Just a little breeze out of the sky
The leaves nod their head as the breeze blows by
Just a little breeze with some smoke in its eye
What have they done to the rain
Just a little boy standing in the rain
The gentle rain that falls for years
And the grass is gone, the boy disappears
And rain keeps falling like helpless tears
And what have they done to the rain
What have they done to the rain

the money crop

Uma pequena e bela canção de Malvina Reynolds

canzone arrabiata

Canto per chi non ha fortuna
Canto per me
Canto per rabbia a questa luna ‎
Contro di te
Contro chi è ricco e non lo sa
Chi sporcherà la verità ‎
Cammino e canto
La rabbia che mi fa
‎
Penso a tanta gente nell'oscurità
Alla solitudine della città
Penso alle illusioni dell’umanità
Tutte le parole che ripeterà
‎
Canto per chi non ha fortuna
Canto per me
Canto per rabbia a questa luna ‎
Contro di te
Canto a quel sole che verrà
Tramonterà, rinascerà
Alle illusioni ‎
Alla rabbia che mi fa
‎
Penso a tanta gente nell'oscurità
Alla solitudine della città
Penso alle illusioni dell’umanità
Tutte le parole che ripeterà
‎
Canto per chi non ha fortuna
Canto per me
Canto per rabbia a questa luna ‎
Contro di te
Canto a quel sole che verrà
Tramonterà, rinascerà
Alle illusioni ‎
Alla rabbia che mi fa

sem igualdade e justiça não há paz

Uma canção de Peter Tosh de 1977

Everyone is crying out for peace, yes,
None is crying out for justice.

I don't want no peace,
I need equal rights and justice.
I need equal rights and justice.
I need equal rights and justice.
Got to get it! Equal rights and justice.

Everybody want to go to heaven
But nobody want to die.
Everybody want to go up to heaven
But none o' them, none o' them, want to die.

I don't want no peace,
I man need equal rights and justice.
I've got to get it! Equal rights and justice.
I really need it! Equal rights and justice.
Just give me my share! Equal rights and justice.

What is due to Caesar
You better give it on to Caesar.
And what belong to I and I
You better, you better, give it up to I.

Cause I don't want no peace,
I need equal rights and justice.
I need equal rights and justice.
I've got to get it! Equal rights and justice.
I'm fighting for it! Equal rights and justice.

Everyone heading for the top
But tell me how far is it from the bottom?
Nobody knows but
Everybody fighting to reach the top
How far is it from the bottom?

Everyone is talking about crime,
Tell me who are the criminals?
I said everybody's talking about crime, crime,
Tell me who, who are the criminals?
I really don't see them!

Equal rights and justice. And there'd be no crime!
Equal rights and justice. There be no criminals!
Equal rights and justice.
Everyone is fighting for equal rights and justice.
Palestine is fighting for equal rights and justice.
Down in Angola. Equal rights and justice.
Down in Botswana. Equal rights and justice.
Down in Zimbabwe. Equal rights and justice.
Down in Rhodesia. Equal rights and justice.
Right here in Jamaica. Equal rights and justice.

i can't stop thinking about music and politics

Bob Dylan antes de ser Bob Dylan...
Para o seu amigo Percy, mas, como diz a canção... "podia ser qualquer um".



A letra é comprida:

Bad news, bad news
Come to me where I sleep
Turn, turn, turn again
Sayin’ one of your friends
Is in trouble deep
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

Tell me the trouble
Tell once to my ear
Turn, turn, turn again
Joliet prison
And ninety-nine years
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

Oh what’s the charge
Of how this came to be
Turn, turn, turn again
Manslaughter
In the highest of degree
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

I sat down and wrote
The best words I could write
Turn, turn, turn again
Explaining to the judge
I’d be there on Wednesday night
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

Without a reply
I left by the moon
Turn, turn, turn again
And was in his chambers
By the next afternoon
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

Could ya tell me the facts?
I said without fear
Turn, turn, turn again
That a friend of mine
Would get ninety-nine years
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

A crash on the highway
Flew the car to a field
Turn, turn, turn again
There was four persons killed
And he was at the wheel
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

But I knew him as good
As I’m knowin’ myself
Turn, turn, turn again
And he wouldn’t harm a life
That belonged to someone else
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

The judge spoke
Out of the side of his mouth
Turn, turn, turn again
Sayin’, “The witness who saw
He left little doubt”
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

That may be true
He’s got a sentence to serve
Turn, turn, turn again
But ninety-nine years
He just don’t deserve
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

Too late, too late
For his case it is sealed
Turn, turn, turn again
His sentence is passed
And it cannot be repealed
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

But he ain’t no criminal
And his crime it is none
Turn, turn, turn again
What happened to him
Could happen to anyone
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

And at that the judge jerked forward
And his face it did freeze
Turn, turn, turn again
Sayin’, “Could you kindly leave
My office now, please”
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

Well his eyes looked funny
And I stood up so slow
Turn, turn, turn again
With no other choice
Except for to go
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

I walked down the hallway
And I heard his door slam
Turn, turn, turn again
I walked down the courthouse stairs
And I did not understand
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind

And I played my guitar
Through the night to the day
Turn, turn, turn again
And the only tune
My guitar could play
Was, “Oh the Cruel Rain
And the Wind”

the rebel girl

There are women of many descriptions

In this queer world, as everyone knows,

Some are living in beautiful mansions,

And are wearing the finest of clothes.

There are blue blooded queens and princesses,

Who have charms made of diamonds and pearl;

But the only and thoroughbred lady

Is the Rebel Girl.

(Chorus)

That's the Rebel Girl, That's the Rebel Girl.

To the working class she's a precious pearl.

She brings courage, pride and joy

To the fighting Rebel Boy

We've had girls before, but we need some more

In the Industrial Workers of the World.

For it's great to fight for freedom

With a Rebel Girl.

Yes, her hands may be harden'd from labor

And her dress may not be very fine;

But a heart in her bosom is beating

That is true to her class and her kind.

And the grafters in terror are trembling

When her spite and defiance she'll hurl.

For the only and thoroughbred lady

Is the Rebel Girl.

la canzone del Maggio

Anche se il nostro maggio
Ha fatto a meno del vostro coraggio
Se la paura di guardare
Vi ha fatto chinare il mento
Se il fuoco ha risparmiato
Le vostre Millecento
Anche se voi vi credete assolti
Siete lo stesso coinvolti.

E se vi siete detti
Non sta succedendo niente,
Le fabbriche riapriranno,
Arresteranno qualche studente
Convinti che fosse un gioco
A cui avremmo giocato poco
Provate pure a credevi assolti
Siete lo stesso coinvolti.

Anche se avete chiuso
Le vostre porte sul nostro muso
La notte che le pantere
Ci mordevano il sedere
Lasciamoci in buonafede
Massacrare sui marciapiedi
Anche se ora ve ne fregate,
Voi quella notte voi c'eravate.

E se nei vostri quartieri
Tutto è rimasto come ieri,
Senza le barricate
Senza feriti, senza granate,
Se avete preso per buone
Le "verità" della televisione
Anche se allora vi siete assolti
Siete lo stesso coinvolti.

E se credente ora
Che tutto sia come prima
Perché avete votato ancora
La sicurezza, la disciplina,
Convinti di allontanare
La paura di cambiare
Verremo ancora alle vostre porte
E grideremo ancora più forte
Per quanto voi vi crediate assolti
Siete per sempre coinvolti,
Per quanto voi vi crediate assolti
Siete per sempre coinvolti.

• 
  

when the music's over

verdad, mentira

Paco Ibañez musicando um poema de Luís de Gongora (1561-1627)
Ironia de hoje? Pouco, talvez. Mas a canção não podia ser mais actual:



Aqui fica também o poema. O Ibañez corta a penúltima e a antepenúltima estrofe:

Dineros son calidad,
	verdad.
	Más ama quien más suspira,
	mentira.
5	Cruzados hacen cruzados,
	escudos pintan escudos,
	y tahúres muy desnudos
	con dados ganan condados;
	ducados dejan ducados,
10	y coronas, majestad:
	verdad.
	Pensar que uno solo es dueño
	de puerta de muchas llaves,
	y afirmar que penas graves
15	las paga un mirar risueño,
	y entender que no son sueño
	las promesas de Marfira:
	mentira.
	Todo se vende este día,
20	todo el dinero lo iguala:
	la corte vende su gala,
	la guerra, su valentía;
	hasta la sabiduría
	vende la universidad:
25	verdad.
	En Valencia muy preñada
	y muy doncella en Madrid,
	cebolla en Valladolid
	y en Toledo mermelada,
30	Puerta de Elvira en Granada
	y en Sevilla doña Elvira:
	mentira.
	No hay persona que hablar deje
	al necesitado en plaza,
35	todo el mundo le es mordaza,
	aunque él por leñas se queje,
	que tiene cara de hereje,
	y aun fe, la necesidad:
	verdad.
40	Siendo como un algodón,
	nos jura que es como un hueso,
	y quiere probarnos eso
	con que es su cuello almidón,
	goma su copete, y son
45	sus bigotes alquitira:
	mentira.
	Cualquiera que pleitos trata,
	aunque sean sin razón,
	deje el río Marañón
50	y entre el río de la Plata,
	que hallará corriente grata
	y puerto de claridad:
	verdad.
	Siembra en una artesa berros
55	la madre, y sus hijas todas
	son perras de muchas bodas
	y bodas de muchos perros,
	y sus yernos rompen hierros
	en la toma de Algecira:
60	mentira.

  

em cada esquina um amigo

Peter Lafarge: indian pride

Patti Smith!

mary read tem a sua banda rap

A pirata inglesa do século XVIII dá o nome a este grupo rap francês...
Aqui fica uma rapalhada contra a vigilância com um sample muito "clássico":

feminista

revolução sem r

if the going gets tough the songs get tougher

Bruce Springsteen, working class hero

Mal conhecido afinal de contas, Bruce Springsteen não foi só "The Boss"do show business. Escreveu e gravou desde o primeiro álbum de 1973 até hoje canções que dão uma outra imagem dos Estados Unidos da América. Cantou histórias de lutas de gente das classes que não dominam, mas combatem dia-a-dia a exploração, a alienação, a injustiça. Sofrem, caem, levantam-se, talvez.
Como este Tom Joad, personagem de As Vinhas da Ira (Grapes of Wrath) de Steinbeck  (e também do filme de John Ford, claro).

Música para os próximos combates