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There was a brief period, spanning the late '80s and early '90s, when a band that drew its name from an Andalusian anarchist body, Mano Negra, became one of the greatest Mediterranean rock groups, if not the greatest. A brief period during which a young Franco-Spanish artist named Manu Chao invented a genre (the "patchanka"), whose sole foundation lay in one varied word: eclecticism.
The essence of the sound of this magnificent all "family" trio (Manu on guitar, brother Tonio on trumpet, and the lively cousin Santiago Casiriego on drums) lies indeed in a unique blend of English rock (especially punk), Latin American rhythms ranging from ska-reggae to salsa, and even flamenco-dub, merged with the urgency of texts committed to reflecting on the world and its troubles. But the allure of the group lies precisely in this pursuit of unclassifiability, of universality (with lyrics sung in multiple languages, mainly Spanish and French, but over time also in English and Italian), global bearers of a message of political and social solidarity. For this reason, they did not hesitate to embark on exhausting world tours, targeting not only the capitals of every place and flag but also inventing real musical pilgrimages to the most remote and struggling countries (memorable was the "Cargo Tour," for which they rented a boat that toured the entire western coast of South America, with the band playing in the ports of every small village).
Unfortunately, as everyone knows, it is difficult to stay afloat without the support of major labels, and even Mano Negra had to comply (albeit not too much) with the wishes of Virgin, which wanted to launch them commercially following the excellent debut of "Patchanka" (1988) by reissuing the album in a thousand ways ("Puta's Fever," "Amerika Perdida"...) adding or removing English songs depending on Mediterranean or Anglo-American destinations.
Subsequently, the confused Mano Negra would release the modest "King Of The Bongo" (1991), which, even achieving greater success than previous releases, was a product below expectations (explicitly aimed at the American market).
At this point, the band's journey, after a fantastic tour along the Colombian coast (this time aboard a train!), faced a crossroads: continue their mission as a militant and gypsy band wanting to raise awareness and entertain within the limits of a passionate but limited group of dedicated fans or expand their horizons to conquer the UK/States, the musical heart of the world.
The choice is "Casa Babylon." Not just an album, not merely the sum of the entire Mano Negra story, not just their densest and most complete masterpiece. Conceived as a sort of free and independent radio ready to broadcast all the sounds of the first, second, or third world, without ethnic distinctions or expressive prejudices, Casa Babylon is set to become the London Calling of the '90s. Indeed, 15 years after the seminal international melting pot of their mentors Clash, the miracle repeats: a concept album that aims to unite all the souls of the world, starting this time from Paris, but with the same desire for solidarity among peoples and traditions, like a great socio-cultural embrace.
It speaks of folk heroes (from Zapata to Maradona), of haunting global prophecies (the fantastic Hamburger Fields), stories of wars in defense of a homeland that must belong to everyone (Machine Gun or El Alakran), celebrations of motherhood as there's only one (Mama Perfecta), visions of utopia but lucid and full of Gypsy vitality (Sueño De Soletiname, This Is My World).
It's a journey within this enormous Babylon, where Manu Chao has now fully taken on the role of the mastermind of the band, bringing both political poetry and more boisterous hedonism to maturity and coherence, merging in this beautiful, colorful, and aromatic universe, hip-hop, electronica, rai, jazz mixed with trip-hop, multitracked collages, psychedelic accordions, and more, into his admirable socio-musical vision.
Unfortunately, Casa Babylon would be the swan song of this virtuous band: Manu Chao, exalted by the ever more unanimous acclaim of the audience, decided to embark on a solo career destined for implosion after good initial results, evidently due to a slow creative decline and a mistaken political overexposure. But let's listen to him here again, tireless solar and irreverent Robin Hood, intent on striking the dusty neo-global cosmos of popular music with his faithful companions through experimentation, fervent civil passion, and a great desire for joyous sonic fun.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
02 Casa Babylon (02:01)
Entre casa y Babylon
Camino peleon
Entre tu mama y Babylon
Ni papa ni colchon
Entre colonia y Babylon
No te vayas de resbalon
Entre casa y Babylon
Camina la ilusion
Entre mama y Babylon
Camino sin perdon
Entre colonia y Babylon
No te vayas de resbalon
Entre güato y bacha
Camina la cucaracha
Entre poli y pelon
Camina la represion
Entre casa y Babylon
El camino esta cabron
Entre colonia y Babylon
No te vayas de resbalon
03 The Monkey (02:47)
I said Yeah
Monkey
now three little monkeys sat on a coconut tree
discussing things has they are said to be
said one to the other, now listen you two
there is a certain rumour that cant be true
that man descended from our noble race
the funny idea is a big disgrace
no monkey ever deserted his wife
nor her baby and ruin her life
I said yeah... Monkey speaks his mind
and another thing you will never see
a monkey build a fence around a coconut tree
and let all the coconuts go to waist
forbidding all other monkeys to come and taste
now if i build a fence around this tree
starvation will cause you to steal from me
I said Yea... the monkey speaks his mind
here is another thing a monkey wont do
go out at night and get on a stew
or use a gun a club or a knife
to take another monkey's life
Yes man descended the worthless bum
but my god brothers from us he did not come
Yeah... The monkey speaks his mind
04 Señor Matanza (04:06)
Esta ciudad es la propiedad
Del Senor Matanza!!
El de la rebaja baja del taxi
Los tiros, la tira, el basuco y la mentira!
Esta ciudad es la propiedad
Del Senor Matanza
Esa olla, esa mina, y esa finca y ese mar
Ese paramilitar, son propriedad
Del Senor Matanza
Ese federal, ese chivato y ese sapo, el sindicato
Y el obispo, el general son propiedad
Del Senor Matanza
Buenas jiniteras y alcohol, estan bajo control,
La escuela y el monte de piedad son propriedad
Del Senor Matanza
El decide lo que va, dice lo que no sera
Decide quien la paga dice quien vivira
Esa y esa tierra y ese bar son propriedad
Del Senor Matanza
a mi ñero llevan pal monte
a mi ñero llevan pal monte
Y mi ñero que lo llevan y se van,
Los que matan, pam pam, son propriedad
Del Senor Matanza!!
El decide lo que va, dice lo que no sera
Decide quien la paga, dice quien vivira
No se pueda caminar sin colaborar con su santidad,
El Senor Matanza
a mi ñero llevan pal monte
a mi ñero pal monte
Escuchalo güey!
Su palabra es ley!
El decide lo que va, dice lo que no sera
Decide quien la paga, dice quien sufrira
Esa y esa tierra y ese bar son propriedad
Del Senor Matanza
Cuando no manda, lo compra
Si no lo compra lo elimina!!
... Esa linea de autocar, el Hotel y el Billar,
Esa chica que se da, por el Bulevar, son propiedad
Del Senor Matanza
06 Super Chango (02:53)
A mi no me chinga bato
Ni me fornica bartolo
A mi no me asusta el gringo
El que me busca
Se le acabo: ya llego Super Chango
Las calaveras me pelan los dientes
Y me rio de la serpiente
Ni padre ni madre
Ni perro que me ladre
Como me la pintan la borro
Como me la pongan la brinco
Super Chango!
Batman, Superman, echa pa fuera
Echa pa fuera
Ya llego Super Chango!!
Tumba los tambores
Por el monte
Por la selva
Por la plaza mayor
Tumba tumba la tongoll! ya llego Super Chango!
Adivino y curandero, buen amigo y mujeriego, soy del fuego
Y del trueno, soy del barrio y guerrero
Ya llego Super Chango...
Como me la pintan la borro como me la pongan la brinco,
Porque puedo vengo, no vengo, no vengo ver si puedo,
Ya llego Super Chango,
Los azulejos los veo de lejos
Y al gringo se la voy a cobrar
08 Machine Gun (04:25)
Si la tierra tiembla
Se hunde en el mar
Si la tierra tiembla
Nadie se va salvar...
Si la tierra tiembla
Bombala, bombala, bombala, bombala
Si la tierra tiembla
Sera culpa ti!
Si la tierra tiembla
Nadie se va salvar
Si la Tierra Tiembla
Se hunde en el Mar
Nadie se va salvar
Si la tierra tiembla... Machine Gun
...Machine Gun
Bomba ATOMIKA
Bomba POLITIKA
Bomba ECONOMIA... sera culpa ti
nadie se va salvar
11 Love and Hate (02:28)
I love your lips
And I love your legs
I love your eyes
Baby you got style
I love your clothes
And I love your smile
I love you, I love you
I love you while
You don't even look at me
And I go crazy
For all the women
That I never had
I sing my song
of Love and Hate
I hate the boys
Walkin' by your side
I hate my dreams
They're not satisfied
I hate me, babe,
For being too shy
I hate I hate you
I hate you while
You don't even look at me
And I go crazy
For all the women
that I never had
I sing my song
of love and hate
You neighbour's sweetheart
You magazin girl
You striptease bird
From the underworld
You sweet sixteen
You little dames
You late thirties
Sweet japaneses
Ornella Muti
Si jolie mademoiselle
Vous etes ma folie
Vous etes si belles
For all the women
that I never had
I sing my song
of love and hate
For all the women
that I never had
I sing my song
Se que nunca fuiste mia
ni lo has sido ni lo eres
pero de mi corazón
un pedacito tú tienes (tu tienes, tu tienes)
y con los celo, los celo, los celo
a mi el corazón a mí, mama, me arde
I love your body
Baby you got style
You fly so high
When you're passin' by
It makes me laugh
And it makes me cry
Makes me want to die
When there's no reason why
For all the women
That I never had
I sing my song
Of love and hate
For all the women
That I never had
I sing my song
13 Hamburger Fields (03:14)
Now here comes daddy
And here goes mummy
The baby's pretty
His name is johnny...
In the hamburger fields, in the hamburger fields,
Sixty years in the hamburger fields
A child is born
Let's celebrate
Well it's a date
Let's eat pop corn
This child's gonna leave
In the hamburger fields
Yeah he's gonna leave
In the hamburger fields
In the hand of fate
He'll be educated
In the hamburger fields
In the hamburger fields
Over the soda rivers
In front of the gasoil sea
Havin' t.v. dreams
Under the air conditionned skies
Fly fly my baby fly
No matter if your daddy cries
Fly fly my baby fly
Over the hamburger fields
A child is born
Let's celebrate
Well it's a date
Let's eat pop corn
In the hand od fate
He'll be educated
In the hand of fate
He's gonna leave
In the hamburger fields
In the hamburger fields
A child is born
Well it's a date
In the hamburger fields
In the hamburger fields
A child is born...
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