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Rating: PHILADELPHIA and the PIRATES
Rum, boiling water, lemon juice, whiskey, and sugar, is the recipe for the GROG, the famous gut-buster, as well as a panacea for the most diverse ailments, used by pirates, who aboard their ships celebrated victories and loot or moments of absolute boredom and loneliness.
The atmosphere is exactly this, a party, alcoholic revelry, and melancholy from lack of love, but also fury and energy, chaos and phobias. There is a strange passion that winds through the United States, the traditional music of Eastern Europe, Klezmer and Polka, atmospheres dear to Emir Kusturica’s films emerge dreamy and sharp, blending with punk and country bordering on hardcore folk.
The independent music scene in Philadelphia is more alive than ever, Espers, Spinto band, Fursaxa, and Bardo pond, but Man Man on their second album are a case apart, like Beirut and Gogol Bordello they seem enchanted by Europe and a theatrical and gypsy music, a journey from Beefheart to Zappa up to the most recent and scattered Coral, where unpredictability and surrealism ignite the fire that illuminates a modern and innovative cabaret.
Man Man are six, and they sing in six, the result is always pleasant and emotional, tribal drums reminiscent of New Orleans funeral processions mesh with marimbas and organs supported by saloon pianos, saxophones and horns followed by various falsettos.
"Feathers" opens with piano and voices resonating inside an inn, an European afternoon, "Engwish Bwudd" falsetto and voices, an anthem to adventure, picaresque and guttural, "Banana Ghost" is the ghost of the banana, it could be the soundtrack of a Tim Burton movie, acoustic guitar and even a hint of jazzy solo, "Young Einstein on the beach", punk has always existed and never died, "Skin tension", snow falls and Tom Waits joins the chorus, violin and organette accompany the piano on the street corner, "Black mission goggles", again falsetto and acid choirs, frenetic rhythm interrupted by a shot, an explosion of percussion, "Hot bat" is the madness of man, short and sudden, "Push the eagle's stomach", saxophone and hard voices bring us back to rock, at the center of the battle in a collective suicide, "Van Helsing Boombox" is a real song, honky-tonk piano and banjo join one of the best lyrics of the album, Europe steps aside and the American soul emerges, "Tunneling through the guy", again extreme and talented cabaret anticipating the closure of "Ice dogs", freak and suggestive, a greeting, a farewell, the music fades, the curtain closes leaving an uncontrollable desire, to relive the adventure, the journey, the dream.
"I woke up asleep, sweaty, stuck to the leather seat. The sun had already begun to warm the car from behind the dirty glass. My eyes were burning, smeared with tiredness and sleep. But I realized that in the end I had gone away. The plain, the heat, it was all left behind. I looked for safety at the front seat, and found none of the usual ones, and outside nothing but the morning." (Vinicio Capossela)
"Six Demon Bag" is a cauldron in which everything boils... Wildly and wonderfully recommended.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Feathers (02:08)
she feels like a stranger has come in the night and stolen her life and left her with this and boughs break on ebony toothaches
she is a flask trapped inside a fall
i know you need to find what you thought you left behind in a past life
i won't question why the only light that you have you give away
i know you need to find what you thought you left behind in a past life
i won't question why the only light that you have you give away
she feels like a stranger has come in the night and stolen her life and left her with this
02 Engwish Bwudd (03:33)
all i want to be is a shovely bubbly gobbly gook
a seagull stole him from his slow mama's hands aboard the boat the sweet louisa
and dropped him in the meadow-lands where wild hyenas taught him how to hunt old elephants
so he spent his formative years eating out badunkadunk
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
he travelled across the sea in the belly of a japanese businessman on a pleasure ship to france
and he don't know why she loves him
and he don't know why the sun sets but fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
bang pow pow pow ahhhhhh
and her father hated him with the passion of a dying chinaman
he said get him out of here or i'm gonna bite of his face
no daddy daddy don't daddy daddy
get the fuck out of my house
no daddy daddy don't daddy daddy
this is my house my house
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
fee fi fo fum i smell the blood of an englishman
08 Push the Eagle's Stomach (03:39)
i don't wannna know your name (my vice grips)
i don't wanna know your name (bad vice cops)
i don't wanna know your name (the prescription doesn't scan)
we start shrinking
when we hit that grill you know we will
don't beat around the black jack night
don't beat around the black jack night
don't beat around the black jack night
don't beat around the black jack night
(my brain hurts, you're own your own from here)
Black Jack Night x 8
(My maid works faster than yours.)
(My face looks better than yours.)
(My feet beat louder than yours.)
(My grandmas better than yours.)
Mustache, Mustache, Mustache, Mustache, Mustache. x 4
The Gun is not my Son x 8
And get around the Black Jack Night
I wanna slay my mustache right.
I wanna see my hand in knife.
I don't wanna be the Son ____ ?
10 Van Helsing Boombox (03:44)
only time will tell if I'll allow
the scenery around to eat me alive
I want to sleep for weeks like a dog at her feet
even though I know it won't work out in the long run
so I burn down the wall, breathe my good shadow
those arms I once knew, hold me like gold
I learn how to speak a forgotten language
I fall in the sea but forget how to swim
When anything that's anything becomes nothing that's everything
and nothing is the only thing you ever seem to have
but only time will tell if I'll allow
the scenery around to eat me alive
I want to sleep for weeks like a dog at her feet
even though I know it won't work out in the long run
so I burn down the bone, breathe my good shadow
those arms I once knew, hold me like gold
I learn how to speak a defeated language
I fall in the street as I howl at the moon
When anything that's anything becomes nothing that's everything
and nothing is the only thing you ever seem to have
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