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Rating: This work, composed of a single piece yet complete in every aspect, is a pillar of the global discography. A cornerstone. A monument.
Trust me.
Lyrics by Mogol. Voice by David Bowie. Yes, you heard right.
When an evening with friends doesn't take off, when topics run dry, when the rain beats against the windows and the only soaring thought of your life is the mortgage payment; when nothing brings back your smile, your love has left you, politics nauseates you; when there’s only scantily clad dancers and grim images of distant wars on TV, and in the venues of your city there are only sad cover bands of 80s cartoons…
Well, these are the moments to listen again to this immortal piece.
Laughter will arise spontaneously, friends will praise your ability to surprise them, the mortgage will pay itself off, wars will end, and your favorite artists will perform every night at the pub down the street.
Because this song does good, it creates spontaneous and healthy merriment and is also a boon for self-esteem: it shows that, whatever happens, someone has done worse than you, no matter what you've done. And not just anyone: David Bowie!
To be fair, this genuine crime against humanity isn't even remotely Bowie's fault; it's ours. It's an Italian crime.
The lyrics by someone who for thirty years has been sold to us as the “best Italian lyricist” graft onto one of the century’s most celebrated songs like a parasitic carnivorous plant. Poor David, sings with a pronunciation between Don Lurio and Heather Parisi words of which (I hope) he ignores the meaning. Of the original, nothing remains, not even Major Tom. Let alone the rest.
What did Major Tom ever do to Mogol?
Has anyone ever had the courage to ask this reckless person, simultaneously giving him a slap?
The only thing more artistically awful that I've had to endure in my life was the viewing of “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” dubbed by Bagaglino. Another Italian crime.
This Bowie all'amatriciana is probably ground zero of our music: we've heard a lot of nonsense, but managing to turn “Space Oddity” into an authentic mess was beyond most.
Indeed, they called Mogol to do it, not some random person.
When the going gets tough, etcetera. He was the toughest of them all, and he succeeded.
Magnificently.
And now, unbelievers, bow to the Poet.
RAGAZZO SOLO, RAGAZZA SOLA
My mind has taken flight
A thought, a single one
I walk while the city sleeps
His eyes in the night
White headlights in the night
A voice speaking to me who will it be?
Tell me lonely boy where are you going,
Why so much pain?
You have certainly lost a great love
But the city is full of love,
No lonely girl, no no no
This time you are wrong
I haven't only lost a great love
Last night I lost everything with her.
But she
The colors of life
Of blue skies
A woman like her I will never find again
Now lonely boy where will you go
The night is a great sea
If you need my hand to swim
Thanks but tonight I would like to die
Because you know in my eyes
There's an angel, an angel
That no longer flies that no longer flies;
That no longer flies
There is her
The colors of life
Of blue skies
A woman like her I will never find again.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
03 Amsterdam (03:27)
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who sings
Of the dreams that he brings
From the wide open sea
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who sleeps
While the river bank weeps
To the old willow tree
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who dies
Full of beer, full of cries
In a drunken town fight
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who's born
On a hot muggy morn
By the dawn's early light
In the port of Amsterdam
Where the sailors all meet
There's a sailor who eats
Only fish heads and tails
And he'll show you his teeth
That have rotted too soon
That can haul up the sails
That can swallow the moon
And he yells to the cook
With his arms open wide
"Hey, bring me more fish
Throw it down by my side"
And he wants so to belch
But he's too full to try
So he stands up and laughs
And he zips up his fly
In the port of Amsterdam
You can see sailors dance
Paunches bursting their pants
Grinding women to porch
They've forgotten the tune
That their whiskey voice croaked
Splitting the night
With the roar of their jokes
And they turn and they dance
And they laugh and they lust
Till the rancid sound of the accordion bursts
And then out of the night
With their pride in their pants
And the sluts that they tow
Underneath the street lamps
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who drinks
And he drinks and he drinks
And he drinks once again
He'll drink to the health
Of the whores of Amsterdam
Who've given their bodies
To a thousand other men
Yeah, they've bargained their virtue
Their goodness all gone
For a few dirty coins
Well he just can't go on
Throws his nose to the sky
And he aims it up above
And he pisses like I cry
On the unfaithful love
In the port of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam
07 Velvet Goldmine (03:11)
You got crazy legs, you got amazin' head
You got rings on your fingers and your hair's hot red
You got the width of my tongue name on the sun
I clutch you close to my breast
Cause you're the only one, who uses school to pleasure
You make me act real gone, you make me troll along
I had to ravish your capsule, suck you dry
Feel the teeth in your bones, heal ya head with my own
Why if I don't have you whole, is that your final love?
Here all together
CHORUS
Velvet goldmine, you stroke me like the rain
Snake it, take it, panther princess you must stay
Velvet goldmine, naked on your chain
I'll be your king volcano right for you again and again
My velvet goldmine
You're my taste, my trip, I'll be your master zip
I'll chop your hair off for kicks, you'll make me jump to my feet
So you'll give me your hand, give me your sound
Let my sea wash your face, I'm falling, I can't stand
Oooh! Clutch your makeup!
CHORUS
Oh
Shoot you down, bang bang
CHORUS
(hum) Velvet Goldmine (repeat)
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