Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Stephen Merritt. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Stephen Merritt. Mostrar todas las entradas

lunes, noviembre 25, 2013

Wright, Merritt y otras murder ballads.

Seguimos respirando un poco más a través de Blacklung. En uno de sus abordajes, los piratas protagonistas encuentran un libro de canciones marineras entre el botín. Entre todos, obligan a Marquis, el único que sabe leer, el profesor y tripulante accidental del barco, a recitarles una de las canciones del libro. La canción-poema que el azar elige es la siguiente:
The land is short
The sea is high
Not half as high as the wind
Our mast is thick 
Our sails are true
Not true as Ann Garland.

I gave her up to be a man
And told her, darling dear,
There was never a man that went away
Who had so little fear,
That he would come back home,
That you would wait for him
So he'd have his darling dear.
At the end of the day
He could look at his wife
And upon his children dear.

The land is short
The sea is high
Not half as high as the wind
Our mast is thick 
Our sails are true
Not true as Ann Garland.

Five years hence
He arrived at the dock
Near the home he once had known,
With a body that was hard
And eyes that were keen,
He went to greet his very own.
But when he came to the door
He saw the face of a child
Through the window staring at him
And his heart rose up.
He could taste it in his mouth
The fear he'd mocked now had him.

The land is short
The sea is high
Not half as high as the wind
Our mast is thick 
Our sails are true
Not true as Ann Garland.

He knocked on the door
And prayed to his soul
That the child would not be real.
Her sweet lover's eyes
Exploded in the night
And tasted their last meal.
A mother she had been
And a widow she had been
And been also a gentle lover.
He put them in a hole
And he covered up his soul
And he left his home forever.

The land is short
The sea is high
Not half as high as the wind
Our mast is thick 
Our sails are true
Not true as Ann Garland.
La canción encierra a la perfección el espíritu doblemente trágico y trascendente de Blacklung. La primera vez que la leímos, nos pareció que este poema podría estar libremente inspirado en alguna antigua canción marinera o en una murder ballad (composiciones líricas de metro simple sobre asesinatos y sucesos macabros, el equivalente anglosajón de nuestros romances más truculentos), pero no hemos encontrado rastros de ella en la web, por lo que suponemos que se trata de una creación de Chris Wright al estilo antiguo. Como también hiciera Nick Cave en su disco del mismo nombre (Murder Ballads) en 1996, en el que incluyó joyas como ésta.
La composición de Wright le deja a uno mal cuerpo, pero tiene su aquel. En otro tono (uno mucho menos desabrido y sangriento) nos recuerda a otra "falsa balada", el "Abigail", de Stephen Merritt y sus The Magnetic Fields, el grupo que más nos ha emocionado y tocado la fibra en estos últimos lustros (que van siendo décadas). "Abigail, Belle of Kilronan" es sólo una de las muchas obras maestras (una de las más conmovedoras) que adornan las tres fabulosas horas de 69 Love Songs. Fundamental: