Video de la semana: Skyclad - Inequality Street

¿O debería decir video del mes? Ha pasado mucho tiempo desde que puse el de Testament. No estoy compliendo mi programa de un video a la semana. Como decía la canción.. "The road to Hell is full of good intentions".

Al grano. Aprovechando la próxima visita de Skyclad a España, voy a poner un video de su época más prolífica, la época en la que la banda era liderada por ese pequeño gran hombre llamado Martin Walkyier, uno de los mejores letristas que ha dado el Metal, a mi parecer. Desde que se marchó (o lo echaron), la calidad de la banda ha bajado varios escalones. Al nuevo vocalista del grupo, Kevin Ridley, intenta acercarse a la estela lírica del Sr. Walkyier, pero en cuanto a la forma de cantar, le falta lo que al otro le sobraba: hígado, como diría mi amigo Isco. Y es que ya se lo decía su abuela (la de Martin Walkyier, no la de Isco): "Write your poetry with Anger, and then sing it with a Passion".

En fin. El video que he elegido para la ocasión es el correspondiente al tema "Inequality Street", de su sexto álbum, "Irrational Anthems" (1996). No he encontrado ninguna versión en YouTube que no tuviera ese efecto espejo tan raro al principio. De hecho, sólo he encontrado UNA versión en YouTube.





A continuación os dejo la letra del tema, en la que se pueden apreciar algunos de los aspectos más significativos en la forma de escribir del Sr. Walkyier: su crítica social, su tendencia a las ideas políticas de izquierda, su gusto por el empleo tanto de expresiones coloquiales como de términos extranjeros, etc.

Life's really a chocolate box -

some do without - others have plenty.

It sticks in my throat - my stomach's in knots,

while your box is so full - mine's perpetually empty.

From the cradle to the grave,

point your ladle to the gravy.

"Food comes first, then morals" they say,

the end of the world's three hot meals away.

Two average men eat their average meals

but destiny waits at their table.

One is served gruel while the other chews veal,

(but they're both spoon fed lies, lies from the cradle).

Life's really a chocolate box -

some do without - others have plenty.

It sticks in my throat - my stomach's in knots,

while your box is so full - mine's perpetually empty.

It sticks in my throat - my stomach's in knots,

while your box is so full - mine's perpetually empty.

Tragic moments for the masses-

work is the curse of the drinking classes

"homo homini lupus" they cry-

humanity fades like the moon in the sky.

You can't cook an omlette without breaking eggs,

(first they are cracked and then beaten).

The only things cracked around here are our heads,

recepies for disaster that we keep repeating.

Life's really a chocolate box -

some do without - others have plenty.

It sticks in my throat - my stomach's in knots,

while your box is so full - mine's perpetually empty.

It sticks in my throat - my stomach's in knots,

while your box is so full - mine's perpetually empty.

Here's a real beggars banquet,

a brace of rats in a blood stained blanket.

Meanwhile, gentlefolk high in their chateau,

dip silver spoons into black forest gateau.

Come lords and ladies - raise glasses in toast

to the "other-half" dying to eat.

'Cause they who receive feast deserve it the most,

it's a literal dead-end (Inequality Street).

Life's really a chocolate box -

some do without - others have plenty.

It sticks in my throat - my stomach's in knots,

while your box is so full - mine's perpetually empty.

Life's really a chocolate box -

some do without - others have plenty.

It sticks in my throat - my stomach's in knots,

while your box is so full - mine's perpetually empty.

It sticks in my throat - my stomach's in knots,

while your box is so full - mine's perpetually empty.

Hasta la próxima.

AP