Laissez moi en profiter brièvement...
Véritable star sur son ile, fer de lance de toute une génération, Paul Weller est devenu , en un peu plus de trente ans la seule preuve que l'on peut faire une carrière sans aucune compromissions
Incitant à frequenter les bureaux de vote plutôt que les pubs, préferant mendier dehors plutôt que de reformer un groupe qu'il aura fait splitter très tôt, il se taille aujourd'hui une réputation qui n'a pas son pareil nul part sur le globe
Extrait du dernier album des Jam en 1982, avec quelques accents motowniens...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DCgM4YF72SI
Better stop dreaming of the quiet life -
Cos its the one well never know
And quit running for that runaway bus -
Cos those rosey days are few
And - stop apologising for the things youve never done,
Cos time is short and life is cruel -
But its up to us to change
This town called malice.
Rows and rows of disused milk floats
Stand dying in the dairy yard
And a hundred lonely housewives clutch empty milk
Bottles to their hearts
Hanging out their old love letters on the line to dry
Its enough to make you stop believing when tears come
Fast and furious
In a town called malice.
Struggle after struggle - year after year
The atmospheres a fine blend of ice -
Im almost stone cold dead
In a town called malice.
A whole streets belief in sundays roast beef
Gets dashed against the co-op
To either cut down on beer or the kids new gear
Its a big decision in a town called malice.
The ghost of a steam train - echoes down my track
Its at the moment bound for nowhere -
Just going round and round
Playground kids and creaking swings -
Lost laughter in the breeze
I could go on for hours and I probably will -
But Id sooner put some joy back
In this town called malice.
ET celle ci , extraite du meilleur de sa seconde formation ( The Style Council ) en 1985 , qui garde un parfum bossa-pop, aux paroles magnifiques..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DMIIBJVHv4
From the playground to the wasteground
Hope ends at 17 -
Sweeping floors and filling shelves
Forced into government schemes -
11 years spent to dig out ditches,
Forget your schoolday dreams -
Guarantees and lie-filled speeches,
But nothings what it seems -
Qualified and patronised and with everything to lose.
No choice or chance for the future
The rich enjoy less tax -
Dress the girls in pretty pink
The shit goes to the blacks
A generation’s heart torn out
And covered up the facts
The only thing they’ll understand
Is a wall against their backs
The only hope now left for those - with everything to lose.
In desperation empty eyes,
Signed up and thrown away -
There’s drugs replacing dignity,
The short sharp shock repaid -
There’ll be no money if you dare to question
Working the tory way -
The truth is up there carved in stone,
Where 21 dead now lay -
A family’s loss for a few pounds saved -
With everything to lose.