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Today, December 22, 2012, is a special day for me, a decisive day for my life, and I think I'll never forget it. No cataclysm, no end of the world, no 666, and no seven trumpets that "play a sweet rock n' roll," no Pythagoras writing a brand new melody in blood, no Apocalypse in 9/8. Today is a day like any other, and it does not mark the beginning of a new era. There is nothing more to fear and nothing to expect, except perhaps a rise in gas prices and taxes in general, cuts to public education, etc... Today is a special day for me because I am happy, happier than usual, and have a reason to be. I've purchased a ticket for Peter Gabriel's concert next October, in that year, 2013, which no one expected could arrive. The emotion I felt when the ticket was printed in front of my eyes at the store is indescribable. Yes indeed! I will see Peter Gabriel! My idol, my favorite artist, the best of the best... who knows what I'll feel at the concert!? In the meantime, I listen to Peter Gabriel III, one of the best albums by the Chobnam artist, the English artist who had long left the Genesis experience behind. Listening to it is an immense pleasure, I am transported by the music, and this review comes out impromptu as I write and write words that try to celebrate an already celebrated icon, an artist who needs no introduction and about whom comments have been exhausted. So, I'm here, listening to Peter's third album on the computer and letting myself be moved by his voice, by the music of his troupe featuring bassist Tony Levin, Robert Fripp on guitar, and an old familiar face, the Genesis drummer, Phil Collins.
With the start of "Intruder" and the sharp, hard drum beats, Peter's world of music takes shape, and I can do nothing but follow the rhythm and sing the first words the vocalist recites a minute into the song "I know something about opening windows and doors, I know how to move quietly and creep across creaky wooden floors." The "Intruder" of the title has entered the chosen house for the robbery and tells us his stealthy movements with great "professionalism." "No Self Control" is a moment of pure mental relaxation, with Peter's voice proceeding slowly at first, then standing out with a beautiful high pitch (I don't know how to stop, I don't know how to stop). The inability to stay still and the desire to move are the subject of the song. In the album, a brief instrumental, "Start," doesn't certainly go amiss, its nostalgia is given by the sound of the saxophone by session man Dick Morrissey. "I Don't Remember" represents a nice pop piece with good rhythm, a nice danceable piece indeed. The compositional beauty, the extreme nostalgic sentiment arrive with "Family Snapshot," a very sad song in which the vocalist assumes the role of an assassin, Arthur Bremer, who had attempted the life of a politician in favor of racial segregation, George Wallace. Peter will declare that "Arthur Bremer's book, in which he speaks of his assassination attempt on George Wallace, is particularly disgusting, and from the reading, one understands how the author is crazy and a fame-hungry fanatic." "Family Snapshot" is one of the most beautiful songs by the Chobnam artist. Very beautiful and rich in pathos is "And Through the Wire," which gives way to "Games Without Frontiers," a pleasant pop piece. Despite the almost "playful" nature of the song, of its music, the lyrics are a strong critique of nationalism and war; there are many references to real people, like Adolf Hitler and Enrico Fermi, and Eastern characters. The crazy introduction of "Not One of Us," in which Peter indulges in truly absurd verses, is a good start for an excellent pop song. Perhaps the least important track on the album, "Lead a Normal Life," gives way to a wonder by definition, a piece rich in pathos and full of sentiment, in which there is great emotional involvement by the singer, "Biko." Biko was an anti-apartheid activist, tortured and killed for his protest ideals. Peter recites one of the most significant and beautiful phrases of his career in my opinion: "You can blow out a candle, but you can't blow out a fire. Once the flames begin to catch, the wind will blow it higher." Yes, it's true! You can blow out a candle, but you can't blow out a fire with a breath, you can't quell a revolution! You can annihilate the Messiah delivering a message to the people, but the message, once received by the people, cannot be eliminated, and "the wind will blow it higher," will increase it.
With this piece full of emotional charge, Peter Gabriel III closes, one of the most beautiful albums of the Archangel. Those who haven't listened to it must absolutely do so.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 Intruder (04:52)
I know something about opening windows and doors
I know how to move quietly to creep across creaky wooden floors
I know where to find precious things in all your cupboards and drawers
Slipping the clippers
Slipping the clippers through the telephone wires
The sense of isolation inspires
Inspires me
I like to feel the suspense when I'm certain you know I am there
I like you lying awake, your baited breath charging the air
I like the touch and the smell of all the pretty dresses you wear
Intruders happy in the dark
Intruder come
Intruder come and leave his mark, leave his mark
02 Biko (07:33)
September '77
Port Elizabeth weather fine
It was business as usual
In police room 619
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja
- The man is dead
When I try to sleep at night
I can only dream in red
The outside world is black and white
With only one colour dead
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja
- The man is dead
You can blow out a candle
But you can't blow out a fire
Once the flames begin to catch
The wind will blow it higher
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja
- The man is dead
And the eyes of the world are
Watching now
Watching now
03 No Self Control (03:55)
Got to get some food
I'm so hungry all the time
I don't know how to stop
I don't know how to stop
Got to get some sleep
I'm so nervous in the night
I don't know how to stop
No, I don't know how to stop
I don't know how to stop
I don't know how to stop
Got to pick up the phone
I will call any number
I will talk to anyone
I know I'm gone too far
Much too far I gone this time
And I don't want to think what I've done
I don't know how to stop
No, I don't know how to stop
There are always hidden silences
Waiting behind the chair
They come out when the coast is clear
They eat anything that moves
I go shaky at the knees
Lights go out, stars come down
Like a swarm of bees
No self-control
You know I hate to hurt you
I hate to see your pain
But I don't know how to stop
No, I don't know how to stop
Street after street
Night after night
I walk on through the rain
I walk on through the rain
I don't know how to stop
05 I Don't Remember (04:42)
I got no means to show identification
I got no papers show you what I am
You'll have to take me just the way that you find me
What's gone is gone and I do not give a damn
Empty stomach, empty head
I got empty heart and empty bed
I don't remember
I don't remember
I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything at all
I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything
-anything at all
Strange is your language and I have no decoder
Why don't you make your intentions clear
With eyes to the sun and your mouth to the soda
Saying, "Tell me the truth, you got nothing to fear"
Stop staring at me like a bird of prey
I'm all mixed up, I got nothing to say
I don't remember
I don't remember
I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything at all
I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything
Anything at all
I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything at all
I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything
absolutely anything at all
I don't remember
06 Family Snapshot (04:28)
The streets are lined with camera crews
Everywhere he goes is news
Today is different
Today is not the same
Today I make the action
Take snapshot into the light, snapshot into the light
I'm shooting into the light
Four miles down the cavalcade moves on
Driving into the sun
If I worked it out right
They won't see me or the gun
Two miles to go, they're clearing the road
The cheering has really begun
I've got my radio
I can hear what's going on
I've been waiting for this
I have been waiting for this
All you people in TV land
I will wake up your empty shells
Peak-time viewing blown in a flash
As I burn into your memory cells
'Cos I'm alive
They're coming 'round the corner with the bikers at the front
I'm wiping the sweat from my eyes
-It's a matter of time
-It's a matter of will
And the governor's car is not far behind
He's not the one I've got in mind
'Cos there he is-the man of the hour, standing in the limousine
"I don't really hate you
-I don't care what you do
We were made for each other
-Me and you
I want to be somebody
-You were like that too
If you don't get given you learn to take
And I will take you."
Holding my breath
Release the catch
And I let the bullet fly
All turned quiet-I have been here before
Lonely boy hiding behind the front door
Friends have all gone home
There's my toy gun on the floor
Come back Mum and Dad
You're growing apart
You know that I'm growing up sad
I need some attention
I shoot into the light
07 And Through The Wire (04:58)
And through the wire I hear your voice
And through the wire I touch the power
And through the wire I see your face
It's through the wire
Friday night, you're staying at home I want you
I'm tickling and clicking a metronome I want you
Prowling the waterhole-I wait for the kill I want you
Pressure's building-overspill I want you
And through the wire You are secure
And through the wire We can talk
And through the wire We can walk
It's through the wire
Watchmaker steadies his delicate hand I want you
For barbeque parties on blood red sands I want you
Caught in the struggle tight on the rod I want you
Bring out the devil to bring out the god I want you
And through the wire I hear your voice
And through the wire I touch the power
And through the wire I see your face
It's through the wire
Driving 'round the city rings
Staring at the shape of things
I talk in pictures not in words
Overloaded with everything we said
be careful where you tread
Watch the wire
And through the wire You are secure
And through the wire We can talk
And through the wire We can walk
And through the wire We're clinging like leeches
And through the wire We push out tailormade speeches
And through the wire We get so strange across the border
We get so strange across the border
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Other reviews
By Mariaelena
The cover photo alone describes the 'dissolution' of his personality.
"Biko" will become a symbol against apartheid in South Africa, written to create a clear situation of inhumanity and accusation of race.
