Onderwerp: Inspirerende quotes/songteksten

Een van mijn favorieten:

Two in the morning, dry-dock town
The rivers rolls away in the night
Little gypsy moth she's all tied down
She quiver in the wind and the light

Yeah and a sailing ship just held down in chains
From the lazy days of sail
She's just lying there in silent pain
He lean on the turist rail

A mother and her baby and the college of war
In the concrete graves
You never wanna fight against the river law
Nobody rules the waves
Yeah and on a night when the lazy wind is a-wailing
Around the Cutty Sark
Single handed sailor goes sailing
Sailing away in the dark

He's upon the bridge on the self same night
The mariner of dry dock land
Two in the morning, but there is one green light
And a man on the barge of sand
She's gonna slip away below him
Away from the things he's done
But he just shouts "Hey man, what do you call this thing?"
He could have said "Pride of London"
On a night when the lazy wind is a-wailing
Around the Cutty Sark
Yeah the single handed sailor goes sailing
Sailing away in the dark

Weet niet of 'meerweh' een bestaand woord is, maar ik heb er wel eens last van

They stood upon the deck
As the ship went out to sea
The wind it took the sails
And left the land a memory

All upon the shore for
To wonder why the sailor goes
All to close their eyes
And wonder what the sailor knows

That is you to they
That is how they think you are
Never on the land
But sailing by the North Star

That is you to them
That is how they think you are
Never on the land
But sailing by the North Star

To the tower and to the ravens
And the tale that hopes, they'll never leave
What if they should go?
We always dread to think of them

I wonder if they flew one day
No one ever knew they'd gone
To circle over ships at sea
Claiming yet another son

That is you to me
That is where I think you are
Never on the land
But gone to find the North Star


Waar de tekst precies over gaat is al meer dan veertig jaar onderwerp van discussie, maar het gaat onmiskenbaar over een zeeman. Of 'zeeman' hier een metafoor is, kan een vraag zijn, bijvoorbeeld.
Maar die regel "Never on the land, but sailing bij the north star" past wel in dit draadje.

En het muzikale sfeertje vind ik ook al veertig jaar inspirerend. Zolang staat die plaat hier al in kast..

Mooi.

En een ietwat meer cynische motiverende tekst:

Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.

Choose your future.

Choose life.

(John Hodge)

Albert 45 schreef :
Er vanuit gaande dat je "mooi" op North star grassman and the ravens slaat, ben ik dan weer blij dat jij dat mooi vindt, Albert.

Denny staat erom bekend dat haar teksten nogal versluierend zijn. Vaak gaan ze over mensen uit haar directe omgeving. Ze is helaas al lang dood, maar de laatste jaren is er vrij veel over haar geschreven en het vermoeden bestaat dat het lied over een echte zeeman gaat, die weliswaar ook iets deed in de muziek, maar op gezette tijden weer van de radar verdween en dan kennelijk op zee zat (de koopvaardij, in dit geval)..

Sandy Denny is vooral bekend geworden als zangeres van de folkrockband Fairport Convention. Haar eigen werk had veel minder succes, maar voor de liefhebber is het zeer de moeite waard.

lodewijk stegman schreef :
Mooi slaat op stem, muziek en tekst.
Heb net op You t. gezocht en zit nu te luisteren.
Die griet hééft het!

Albert 45 schreef :
Ja, dat snap ik. Maar zonder quote kan het ook slaan op een andere voorgaande tekst of stukje muziek.. Dat weet ik dan even niet.. Vandaar.

En ja, die stem. Breek me de bek niet open.

Edit: ik zie dat je nog wat aan je pots hebt toegevoegd.

Ja, Denny heeft 't. Veel luisterplezier!
Haar platen zijn op CD gezet en nog steeds te koop. In allerlei speciale versies zelfs

Nog niks van Dylan? Schandalig

You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.

subterranean homesick blues

Bas van Dijk schreef :
Nou als het over His Bobness gaat dan zou ik zeggen: Bob Dylan's 115th dream

Daar komt tenminste nog een boot in voor..

I was riding on the Mayflower
When I thought I spied some land
I yelled for Captain Arab
I have yuh understand
Who came running to the deck
Said, "Boys, forget the whale
Look on over yonder
Cut the engines
Change the sail
Haul on the bowline"
We sang that melody
Like all tough sailors do
When they are far away at sea.

"I think I'll call it America"
I said as we hit the land
I took a deep breath
I fell down, I could not stand
Captain Arab he started
Writing up some deeds
He said, "Let's set up a fort
And start buying the place with beads"
Just then this cop comes down the street
Crazy as a loon
He threw us all in jail
For carryin' harpoons.

Ah me I busted out
Don't even ask me how
I went to get some help
I walked by a Guernsey cow
Who directed me down
To the Bowery slums
Where people carried signs around
Saying, "Ban the bums"
I jumped right into line
Sayin' "I hope that I'm not late"
When I realized I hadn't eaten
For five days straight.

I went into a restaurant
Lookin' for the cook
I told him I was the editor
Of a famous etiquette book
The waitress he was handsome
He wore a powder blue cape
I ordered some suzette, I said
"Could you please make that crepe"
Just then the whole kitchen exploded
From boillin' fat
Food was flying anywhere
And I left without my hat.

Now, I didn't mean to be nosy
But I went into a bank
To get some bail for Arab
And all the boys back in the tank
They asked me for some collateral
And I pulled down my pants
They threw me in the alley
When up comes this girl from France
Who invited me to her house
I went, but she had a friend
Who knocked me out
And robbed my boots
And I was on the street again.

Well, I rapped upon a house
With the US flag upon display
I said, "Could you help me out
I got some friends down the way"
The man says, "Get out of here
I'll tear you limb from limb"
I said, "You know they refused Jesus, too"
He said, "You're not Him
Get out of here before I break your bones
I ain't your pap"
I decided to have him arrested
And I went lookin for a cop.

I ran right outside
And I hopped inside a cab
I went out the other door
This Englishman said, "Fab"
As he saw me leap a hot dog stand
And a chariot that stood
Parked across from a building
Advertising brotherhood
I ran right through the front door
Like a hobo sailor does
But it was just a funeral parlor
And the man asked me who I was.

I repeated that my friends
Where all in jail, with a sigh
He gave me his card
He said, "Call me if they die"
I shook his hand and said goodbye
Ran out to the street
When a bowling ball came down the road
And knocked me off my feet
A pay phone was ringing
It just about blew my mind
When I picked it up and said hello
This foot came through the line.

Well, by this time I was fed up
At tryin'g to make a stab
At bringin' back any help
For my friends and captain Arab
I decided to flip a coin
Like either heads or tails
Would let me know if I should go
Back to the ship or back to jail
So I hooked my sailor suit
And I got a coin to flip
It came up tails
It rhymed with sails
So I made it back to the ship.

Well, I got back and took
The parkin' ticket off the mast
I was ripping it to shreds
When this coastguard boat went past
They asked me my name
And I said, "Captain Kidd"
They believed me but
They wanted to know
What exactly that I did
I said for the Pope of Eruke
I was employed
They let me go right away
They were very paranoid.

Well, the last I heard of Arab
He was stuck on a whale
That was married to the deputy
Sheriff of the jail
But the funniest thing was
When I was leavin' the bay
I saw three ships a-sailin'
There were all heading my way
I asked the captain what his name was
And how come he didn't drive a truck
He said his name was Columbus
I just said, "Good luck".

Typisch voorbeeldje humoristische en toch maatschappij-kritische Dylan..

Jammer genoeg houdt het origineel zich op YouTube onvindbaar. Alleen een eindeloze stroom covers..

lodewijk stegman schreef :
Het ging toch over wind... Het is ook niet snel goed.

Bas van Dijk schreef :
Ja, sorry; dat ik altijd nog wel wat beters weet is een naar trekje van me. Daar word ik voor behandeld.

Is dat laatste een quote van Frank van Putten?

Evaluationcopy schreef :
Die van die "lekkere vriendin", ja.

lodewijk stegman schreef :

Acda en de Munnick dan maar:

Wil je weten hoe het moet
Wil je weten wat je fout doet
Hoe alles beter kan
Kom naar mij ik weet er alles van
Wil je weten hoe het hoort
Hou je mond ik ben aan het woord
Hoe de wereld draaien moet
Ik weet het allemaal zo goed


Ik weet het beter
niemand begrijpt me
Ik weet het beter
En het spijt me