6/01/20

La storia dei Genesis - 3: 'Nursery Cryme'

Mi puoi dire dov'è il mio paese? - Genesis - La storia


Nursery Cryme è del '71.

Qualità dei testi: Ottima
Qualità della musica: Ottima
Vantaggi: Chiedi chi erano i Genesis
Svantaggi: Il Gigante Hogweed è stato estirpato



   Avanti e indietro nel tempo


Rimango sempre stupito quando qualcuno mi parla di "difficoltà al primo ascolto" riferendosi ai Genesis. E dico "Genesis" con la G maiuscola, quelli genuinamente progressive, e non gli altri, quelli che, sotto la guida di Phil Collins, finirono per sfornare musica pop. Probabilmente i Genesis non sono una band per tutti. Forse bisogna avere una predisposizione d'animo particolare per apprezzare "in toto" la loro musica.

Il nostro blog - dev'essere chiaro a tutti - si occupa quasi esclusivamente dei Genesis "prima maniera", quelli che facevano rock sinfonico. Testi struggenti e di grande significato (dove anche il Tutti-i-Giorni si ricopre di sfumature misteriose, divenendo mitologia) al di sopra di un fine tessuto melodico.

Per chi scrive, l'incipit risale a Selling England By The Pound, del 1973: questo album dei Genesis fu il mio mantra adolescenziale. Conoscevo tutte le songs pur non possedendo il disco - lo avevo ascoltato più volte a casa di un mio amico, rimanendone ogni volta rapito. Poi, quando mi misi a girare per l'Europa, avevo dentro lo zaino una cassetta con la registrazione di quest'opera. E più tardi, divenuto "sedentario", Selling England... fu naturalmente tra i primi dischi in vinile (e poi tra i primi CD) che comprai. (Per i testi in italiano dovemmo ringraziare Armando Gallo, responsabile di una preziosa traduzione.) In Selling England By The Pound è contenuta tutta la maestria del gruppo: brani madigralistici si alternano a scoppi di gioiosa creatività senza che vada mai smarrito il filo della disciplina compositiva.



Ma la storia dei Genesis era cominciata già prima. Lo abbiamo già visto: l'album "black" del loro debutto, From Genesis To Revelation, uscì nel 1968, seguito da Trespass ('69)... Nursery Cryme ('70)... e poi ci sarà l'immenso Foxtrot.
Ognuno di essi, ascoltati posteriormente a Selling England..., confermò la mia prima, immediata impressione: i Genesis erano la "mia" band. Comunicavano direttamente col mio cuore - o con la mia anima, se volete - e riuscivo a recepirli anche a livello di cerebro. Furono i Genesis a dischiudere per me i cancelli dell'universo prog.





Leggi la presentazione e le recensioni degli album:

From Genesis To Revelation (1969)
Trespass (1970)
Nursery Cryme (1971)
Foxtrot (1972)
Selling England By The Pound (1973)
The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway (1974).




3: Nursery Cryme

Nursery Cryme (1971) vede il debutto di Phil Collins alla batteria e quello di Steve Hackett alla chitarra. Da qui ai prossimi tre anni, il line-up rimarrà lo stesso: Gabriel, Rutherford, Banks, Hackett e Collins, ovvero la formazione poi passata alla storia.
"The Musical Box" è il pezzo più famoso di quest'album e fu a lungo il clou dei concerti dei Genesis. Ma il disco, per il quale i Genesis si avvalsero per la prima volta di David Hentschel come ingegnere del suono, contiene altri gioielli quali "Seven Stones", "Harold The Barrel", "Return Of The Giant Hogweed" e soprattutto "The Fountain of Salmacis", loro cavalli di battaglia e fin da subito cari a tutti gli aficionados.



Come tutti i loro "classici", uscì per l'etichetta Charisma. Ed è un'opera molto importante  anche perché fu per loro la pedana di lancio per l'Europa. Infatti, il successo riscontrato in Italia da Nursery Cryme praticamente salvò la carriera dei Genesis. (L'anno prima era stata la volta dei belgi, accogliendo entusiasticamente Trespass, a concedere una delazione di vita alla band.)


     Album intero

Ma passiamo subito all'ascolto. Apre dunque "Musical Box", tenera quanto disperata favola da "nursery", da stanza dei giochi, che sarebbe diventata uno dei loro cavalli di battaglia negli spettacoli dal vivo. Ogni cosa, in questo pezzo, è perfetta: dai riffs iniziali alla voce di Gabriel, che comincia in sordina - quasi in recitativo - con "Play me Old King Cole / that I may join with you..." (sembra, appropriatamente, la cantilena di un bimbo) e finisce con l'implorazione urlata: "Touch me, touch me, touch me NOW! now, now, now...", dando voce al fantasma di Henry (8 anni) che riappare a Cynthia (9) dopo che quest'ultima lo aveva "graziosamente" decapitato.


Al più tardi da adesso lo sappiamo: siamo alle prese con un album "romantico" nel senso letterario del termine: tenero, ombroso, violento e divertente a un tempo.
Divertenti sono brani come "Harold The Barrell", tanto disinvolto, convincente e "frantic" da potersi considerare un'anticipazione del "dark pop". Ma il pop è ancora a mille miglia di distanza e qui ovviamente si avverte - senza tema di errori - la bravura dei musicisti. Si capisce subito che si tratta di grandi esecutori; e ciò sebbene fossero allora ancora molto giovani e, ahiloro, squattrinati.

Non so perché, ma alcuni definiscono questo prodotto una battuta d'arresto rispetto al precedente Trespass, quasi un "pas faux" nella carriera dei Genesis. Lo giudicano poco rifinito, un diamante grezzo. Appunto: bisogna sottolineare proprio la parola "diamante". Per me, Nursery eguaglia, se non addirittura supera, l'album precedente. Non c'è assolutamente nulla di superfluo o casuale in questo disco. La dolce e breve "For Absent Friends" vale già da sola il costo del CD (il quale, a proposito, oggi è reperibile per una manciata di dollari) e scommetto che ci sono molti chitarristi, là fuori, che ancora tengono questa ballata nel loro repertorio "segreto", risfoderandola unicamente per le orecchie di tre o quattro amici fidati.




Dopo "Il Ritorno del Gigante Hogweed" (interpretazione tipicamente genesisiana di uno strambo quanto interessante mito da fantascienza: piante viventi prendono possesso di ogni città e... "they seem immune to all our herbical battering"), ecco "Seven Stones".

Quanta magia e quanta vita vissuta sono contenute in questo "tale", in questo racconto dalle sonorità pacate! La voce di Peter sembra più che mai quella di un vecchio saggio, ed è sorprendente e inquietante insieme sapere che al momento dell'uscita dell'album il cantante-poeta dei Genesis era ancora un "teeny"!

Calcando uno schema semplice ma efficace, alla "tranquilla" "Seven Stones" segue il gustoso pandemonio del già citato "Harold The Barrell" (satira del sistema inglese e, in particolare, della prepotenza dei "landlords"). Poi di nuovo un pezzo altamente poetico - "Harlequin". E in ultimo, finalmente, arriva "The Fountain Of Salmacis".
Dedicato alla regina delle Naiadi, ninfe del mare, questo solco racchiude tutti gli elementi tipici del prog rock. L'album si conclude in un glorioso crescendo, e apre quella che sarà la lunga e avventurosa stagione del progressive.
Gli Anni '70 potevano cominciare per davvero.


Tracks:

1. The Musical Box  
2. For Absent Friends  
3. The Return Of The Giant Hogweed  
4. Seven Stones  
5. Harold The Barrel  
6. Harlequin  
7. The Fountain Of Salmacis



   Nota aggiuntiva


Come già accennato, l'inaspettato successo di Trespass in Belgio e quello certo ancora più sorprendente di Nursery Cryme in Italia rappresentarono la salvezza della band. La loro casa di produzione, infatti, nonostante le vendite ancora insoddisfacenti in Gran Bretagna, diede ai Genesis un'altra chance, in considerazione del fatto che nel resto d'Europa avevano un seguito sempre più fitto. (L'Italia peraltro contribuì ad allungare la vita a un'ulteriore formazione della Charisma, i Van den Graaf Generator, decretando il successo commerciale di Pawn Hearts.)
Peter Gabriel, Mike Rutherford, Tony Banks, Steve Hackett e Phil Collins non delusero il patron Tony Stratton-Smith: avrebbero sfornato Foxtrot.  
Foxtrot (di cui ci occupiamo nel prossimo articolo) è un vero capolavoro e, insieme a Selling England... e a The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway può, a ragione, ritenersi uno dei loro migliori output in assoluto. Secondo molti, il migliore in assoluto.






Tutti i testi di Nursery Cryme


The Musical Box
(Banks/Collins/Gabriel/Hackett/Rutherford/Phillips/Barnard)

 
While Henry Hamilton-Smythe minor (8) was playing croquet with Cynthia Jane De Blaise-William (9), sweet-smiling Cynthia raised her mallet high and gracefully removed Henry's head. Two weeks later, in Henry's nursery, she discovered his treasured musical box. Eagerly she opened it and as "Old King Cole" began to play, a small spirit- figure appeared. Henry had returned - but not for long, for as he stood in the room his body began ageing rapidly, leaving a child's mind inside. A lifetime's desires surged through him. Unfortunately the attempt to persuade Cynthia Jane to fulfill his romantic desire led his nurse to the nursery to investigate the noise. Instinctively Nanny hurled the musical box at the bearded child, destroying both.

Play me Old King Cole
That I may join with you,
All your hearts now seem so far from me
It hardly seems to matter now.

And the nurse will tell you lies
Of a kingdom beyond the skies.
But I am lost within this half-world,
It hardly seems to matter now.

   Play me my song.
   Here it comes again.
   Play me my song.
   Here it comes again.

Just a little bit,
Just a little bit more time,
Time left to live out my life.

   Play me my song.
   Here it comes again.
   Play me my song.
   Here it comes again.

Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he.
So he called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.

But the clock, tick-tock,
On the mantlepiece -
And I want, and I feel, and I know, and I touch,
Her warmth...

   She's a lady, she's got time,
   Brush back your hair, and let me get to know your face.
   She's a lady, she is mine.
   Brush back your hair, and let me get to know your flesh.

I've been waiting here for so long
And all this time has passed me by
It doesn't seem to matter now
You stand there with your fixed expression
Casting doubt on all I have to say.
Why don't you touch me, touch me,
Why don't you touch me, touch me,
Touch me now, now, now, now, now...



For Absent Friends
(Banks/Collins/Gabriel/Hackett/Rutherford)
Sunday at six when they close both the gates
a widowed pair,
still sitting there,
Wonder if they're late for church
and it's cold, so they fasten their coats
and cross the grass, they're always last.

Passing by the padlocked swings,
the roundabout still turning,
ahead they see a small girl
on her way home with a pram.

Inside the archway,
the priest greets them with a courteous nod.
He's close to God.
Looking back at days of four instead of two.
Years seem so few (four instead of two).
Heads bent in prayer
for friends not there.

Leaving twopence on the plate,
they hurry down the path and through the gate
and wait to board the bus
that ambles down the street.



The Return Of The Giant Hogweed
(Banks/Collins/Gabriel/Hackett/Rutherford)
Turn and run!
Nothing can stop them,
Around every river and canal their power is growing.
Stamp them out!
We must destroy them,
They infiltrate each city with their thick dark warning odour.

They are invincible,
They seem immune to all our herbicidal battering.

Long ago in the Russian hills,
A Victorian explorer found the regal Hogweed by a marsh,
He captured it and brought it home.
Botanical creature stirs, seeking revenge.
Royal beast did not forget.
He came home to London,
And made a present of the Hogweed to the Royal Gardens at Kew.

Waste no time!
They are approaching.
Hurry now, we must protect ourselves and find some shelter
Strike by night!
They are defenceless.
They all need the sun to photosensitize their venom.

Still they're invincible,
Still they're immune to all our herbicidal battering.

Fashionable country gentlemen had some cultivated wild gardens,
In which they innocently planted the Giant Hogweed throughout the land.
Botanical creature stirs, seeking revenge.
Royal beast did not forget.
Soon they escaped, spreading their seed,
Preparing for an onslaught, threatening the human race.

The Dance Of The Giant Hogweed
Mighty Hogweed is avenged.
Human bodies soon will know our anger.
Kill them with your Hogweed hairs
HERACLEUM MANTEGAZZIANI

Giant Hogweed lives
- ADVANCE -


Seven Stones
(Banks/Collins/Gabriel/Hackett/Rutherford)
I heard the old man tell his tale:

Tinker, alone within a storm,
And losing hope he clears the leaves beneath a tree,
   Seven stones
   Lay on the ground.
Within the seventh house a friend was found.
And the changes of no consequence will pick up the reins from nowhere.

Sailors, in peril on the sea,
Amongst the waves a rock looms nearer, and not yet seen.
   They see a gull
   Flying by.
The Captain turns the boat and he asks not why.
And the changes of no consequence will pick up the reins from nowhere.
Nowhere.

   Despair that tires the world brings the old man laughter.
   The laughter of the world only grieves him,
                                  believe him,
   The old man's guide is chance.

I heard the old man tell his tale:

Farmer, who knows not when to sow,
Consults the old man clutching money in his hand.
   And with a shrug,
   The old man smiled,
Took the money, left the farmer wild.
And the changes of no consequence will pick up the reins from nowhere.
Nowhere.

   Despair that tires the world brings the old man laughter.
   The laughter of the world only grieves him,
                                  believe him,
   The old man's guide is chance.



Harold The Barrel
(Banks/Collins/Gabriel/Hackett/Rutherford)

 
News:
         A well-known Bognor restaurant-owner disappeared
                        early this morning.
         Last seen in a mouse-brown overcoat,
                        suitably camouflaged,
                        they saw him catch a train.

Man-in-the-street:
               "Father of three its disgusting"
               "Such a horrible thing to do"
         Harold the Barrel cut off his toes and he served them all
                                                           for tea
     "Can't go far", "He can't go far".
     "Hasn't got a leg to stand on"
     "He can't go far".

Man-on-the-spot:
     I'm standing in a doorway on the main square
                        tension is mounting
     There's a restless crowd of angry people

Man-on-the-council:
                        "More than we've ever seen.
                        - had to tighten up security"

     Over to the scene at the town hall
     The Lord Mayor's ready to speak

Lord Mayor:
     "Man of suspicion, you can't last long, the British Public
                                                 is on our side"

British Public:
     "Can't last long", "You can't last long".
     "Said you couldn't trust him, his brother was just the same"
     "You can't last long".

Harold:
          If I was many miles from here,
          I'd be sailing in an open boat on the sea
          Instead I'm on this window ledge,
          With the whole world below
                  Up at the window
                  Look at the window...

Mr.Plod:
       "We can help you"
Plod's Chorus:
       "We can help you"
Mr. Plod:
       "We're all your friends, if you come on down
 and talk to us son"

Harold:
                You must be joking
                Take a running jump

          The crowd was getting stronger and our Harold
                      getting weaker;
          Forwards, backwards, swaying side to side
                      Fearing the very worst
                      They called his mother to the sight
              Upon the ledge beside him
              His mother made a last request.

67-yr-old Mrs Barrel:
         "Come off the ledge if your father were alive he'd be very,
                                                very, very upset.
         "Just can't jump, you just can't jump"
         "Your shirt's all dirty, there's a man here from
                                                the B.B.C."
         "You just can't jump"

Mr. Plod:
      "We can help you"
Plod's Chorus:
      "We can help you"
Mr. Plod:
      "We're all your friends, if you come on down
 and talk to us Harry"

Harold:
               You must be joking.
               Take a running jump......



Harlequin
(Banks/Collins/Gabriel/Hackett/Rutherford)
Came the night a mist dissolved the trees
And in the broken light colours fly, fading by.
Pale and cold as figures fill the glade
Grey is the web they spin, on and on, and on and on.
Through the flame still summer lingers on
Though her pictures soon shatter.

   All, always the same.
   But there appears in the shades of dawning,
   Though your eyes are dim,
   All of the pieces in the sky.

There was once a harvest in this land.
Reap from the turquoise sky, harlequin, harlequin,
Dancing round, three children fill the glade,
Theirs was the laughter in the winding stream, and in between.
Close your door, the picture fades again
From the flames in the firelight.

   All, always the same,
   But there appears in the shades of dawning,
   Though your eyes are dim,
   All of the pieces in the sky.

   All, all is not lost,
   And light appears in the shades of dawning
   When your eyes can see
   Order the pieces, put them back, put them back.



The Fountain Of Salmacis
(Banks/Collins/Gabriel/Hackett/Rutherford)

 
Hermaphrodite: a flower containing both male and female organs; a person or animal of both sexes.
The child Hermaphroditus was the son of Hermes and Aphrodite, the result of a secret love affair. For this reason he was entrusted to the nymphs of the isolated Mount Ida, who allowed him to grow up as a wild creature of the woods. After his encounter with the water-nymph Salmacis, he laid a curse upon the water. According to fable, all persons who bathed in the water became hermaphrodites.

From a dense forest of tall dark pinewood,
Mount Ida rises like an island.
Within a hidden cave, nymphs had kept a child;
Hermaphroditus, son of gods, so afraid of their love.

   As the dawn creeps up the sky
   The hunter caught sight of a doe.
   In desire for conquest,
   He found himself within a glade he'd not beheld before.

Hermaphroditus:                   Narrator:
 "Where are you, my father?        "Then he could go no farther
  Give wisdom to your son"          Now lost, the boy was guided by the sun"

   And as his strength began to fail
   He saw a shimmering lake.
   A shadow in the dark green depths
   Disturbed the strange tranquility.

Salmacis:                         Narrator:
 "The waters are disturbed         "The waters are disturbed
  Some creature has been stirred"   Naiad queen Salmacis has been stirred"

As he rushed to quench his thirst,
A fountain spring appeared before him
And as his heated breath brushed through the cool mist,
A liquid voice called, "Son of gods, drink from my spring".

   The water tasted strangely sweet.
   Behind him the voice called again.
   He turned and saw her, in a cloak of mist alone
   And as he gazed, her eyes were filled with the darkness of the lake.

Salmacis:                         Narrator:
 "We shall be one                  "She wanted them as one
  We shall be joined as one"        Yet he had no desire to be one"

Hermaphroditus:     "Away from me cold-blooded woman
                     Your thirst is not mine"
Salmacis:           "Nothing will cause us to part
                     Hear me, O Gods"

Unearthly calm descended from the sky
And then their flesh and bones were strangely merged
Forever to be joined as one.

   The creature crawled into the lake.
   A fading voice was heard:
   "And I beg, yes I beg that all who touch this spring
   May share my fate"

Salmacis:                         Narrator:
 "We are the one                   "The two are now made one,
  We are the one"                   Demi-god and nymph are now made one"

Both had given everything they had.
A lover's dream had been fulfilled at last,
Forever still beneath the lake.



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