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Rating: A cult album that hasn’t aged a bit: for our Marianne, this 1979 BROKEN ENGLISH was truly the chance to reclaim her life and relaunch her artistic identity, breaking free both from the doldrums of youthful folk-revival and from the stereotypes of a once-glamorous but now cracked swinging-London icon.
It’s only eight tracks, but every one is strong, and in my view the pinnacle of her work; I’d at least mention the title track for its aggressive chorus – “What are you fighting for?” – a biting rebuke against the political terrorism of those years (here the reference is the Baader-Meinhof gang, though it could easily apply to Italy’s own BR); then there’s the anti-religious tirade of «Guilt» (“Even though I did nothing wrong / I feel guilty”); the disillusionment and mental decline of a suburban housewife in the heartrending cover of «The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan» – which was later featured on the soundtrack of “Thelma & Louise” – and the spectral, almost apocalyptic rendition of Lennon’s «Working Class Hero». Truly ferocious is the closing with «Why’d Ya Do It»: a bold and sexually explicit song (well before Veronica Ciccone’s provocations) that virtually marks a final break from her glossy ‘60s image. Just as her voice was now absolutely new and different, an added and identifying value for this thirty-something artist (literally resurrected from the heroin black hole) who sang her own fears and rediscovered femininity with no filter.
An exciting album: musically a “new wave-post punk” venture far removed from the Talking Heads or Blondie school of pop; a dark sky, shot through with glowing flashes, crossed by sharp, dry, and seemingly almost icy music; enriched by the presence of luxury session-man Steve Winwood on keyboards and Barry Reynolds on guitar, also co-author and producer of some tracks, and a longtime collaborator for Marianne. Excellent cover art (by Dennis Morris): her gaze tucked behind an arm, an electric blue illuminating her profile, and grabbing our attention, the small red dot of a cigarette. Highly recommended.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Broken English (04:38)
Could have come through anytime,
Cold lonely, puritan
What are you fighting for ?
It's not my security.
It's just an old war,
Not even a cold war,
Don't say it in Russian,
Don't say it in German.
Say it in broken English,
Say it in broken English.
Lose your father, your husband,
Your mother, your children.
What are you dying for ?
It's not my reality.
It's just an old war,
Not even a cold war,
Don't say it in Russian,
Don't say it in German.
Say it in broken English,
Say it in broken English.
US CD MFSL Ultradisc UDCD 640
r. 08 08 1995
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
Could have come through anytime,
Cold lonely, puritan.
What are you fighting for ?
It's not my security.
It's just an old war,
Not even a cold war,
Don't say it in Russian,
Don't say it in German.
Say it in broken English,
Say it in broken English.
Say it in broken English,
Say it in broken English.
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting for ?
What are you fighting ...
04 Guilt (05:11)
I feel guilt, I feel guilt,
Though I know I've done no wrong I feel guilt.
I feel guilt, I feel guilt,
Though I know I've done no wrong I feel guilt.
I feel bad, so bad,
Though I ain't done nothing wrong I feel bad.
I feel bad, so bad,
Though I ain't done nothing wrong I feel bad.
I never lied to my lover,
But if I did I would admit it.
If I could get away with murder
I'd take my gun and I'd commit it.
I never gave to the rich, I never stole from the poor,
I'm like a curious child, give me more,
More, more, more, more, more, more.
I feel blood, I feel blood,
Though I feel it in my veins, it's not enough.
I feel blood, I feel blood,
Though it's streaming through my veins it's not enough.
I never stole a scarf from Harrods,
But if I did you wouldn't miss it.
I never stole a doll from Lovecraft,
But if I did you know I'd kiss it.
I never stole from the rich, I never gave to the poor,
I'm like a curious child, just give me more,
More, more, more, more, more, more, more, more.
I feel guilt, I feel guilt,
Though I know I've done no wrong I feel guilt.
I feel guilt, I feel guilt,
Though I ain't done nothing wrong I feel guilt.
Guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt
Guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt ...
05 The Ballad of Lucy Jordan (04:12)
"The morning sun touched lightly on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
In a white suburban bedroom in a white suburban town
As she lay there 'neath the covers dreaming of a thousand lovers
Till the world turned to orange and the room went spinning round.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.
So she let the phone keep ringing and she sat there softly singing
Little nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.
Her husband, he's off to work and the kids are off to school,
And there are, oh, so many ways for her to spend the day.
She could clean the house for hours or rearrange the flowers
Or run naked through the shady street screaming all the way.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair
So she let the phone keep ringing as she sat there softly singing
Pretty nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.
The evening sun touched gently on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
On the roof top where she climbed when all the laughter grew too loud
And she bowed and curtsied to the man who reached and offered her his hand,
And he led her down to the long white car that waited past the crowd.
At the age of thirty-seven she knew she'd found forever
As she rode along through Paris with the warm wind in her hair ..."
07 Working Class Hero (04:42)
As soon as you're born they make you feel small
By giving you no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
They hurt you at home and they hit you at school,
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool
Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
When they've tortured and scared you for twenty odd years
Then they expect you to pick a career,
But you really can't function you're so full of fear.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV
And you think you're so clever and classless and free,
But you're still fucking peasants as far as I can see.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
There's room at the top they are telling us still,
But first we must learn how to smile as we kill
If we want to live like the folks on the hill.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.
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Other reviews
By R13558860
The new voice of Marianne Faithfull is one of experience, of innocence fleeing chased by cocaine stripes and cigarette butts.
Broken English is one of the many unrecognized and buried milestones waiting for the listener-archaeologist to come and dust it off.
By luludia
"Suffering has forged it and now it is sharp as a sword, harsh as a sentence, and hoarse as a cough from Mary the coquettish."
"Danger is a great joy and darkness is bright as fire — only someone like Marianne could sing it."
