The german name was chosen only because it sounded good to Francesco Bianconi, talented author (maybe less as a singer) that works for his Baustelle but also for other pop singers in Italy and as a novelist. Baustelle often try to stay in a “pop environment” musically, but the lyrics are somewhat complicated and usually taking care of social issues or broken relationships. First amazing album “Sussidiario illustrato della giovinezza” was published in 2000, unfortunately the best one in my opinion (“La moda del lento”) is not available on Spotify.
Gomma is one of the (many) beautiful songs in Baustelle’s debut “Sussidiario illustrato della giovinezza”, published in 2000. A trademark mix of up-tempo music and sharp lyrics, this time talking about high school times, adolescents having sex and drugs in an otherwise boring context. The use of italian language in this song is not really proper one, definitely not the best to learn grammar from, but lexicon is interesting and inspiring.
“Gomma”
Settembre spesso ad aspettarti
e giorni scarni tutti uguali
fumavo venti sigarette
e groppi in gola e secca sete di te
tue cartoline-condoglianze
“hello bastardo ci vediamo”
l’adolescenza che spedivi
sulle mie tenebre incestuose-osé
ed il futuro stava fuori
dalla new wave da liceale
così speravo di ammalarmi
o perlomeno che si infettassero i bar
Novembre mio facevi freddo
la fronte frigo il polso a zero
sporcare specchi era narcosi
“potrei scambiare i miei ‘Le Ore’ con te ?”
Tremavo un po’ di doglie blu
e di esistenza inutile
vibravo di vertigine
di lecca-lecca e zuccheri
Vespe d’agosto in caldo sciame
per provinciali bagni al fiume
mi pettinavo un po’ all’indietro
superficiali ricreative pietà
Sabato sera dentro un buco
e disco-gomma-americana
leccavo caramelle amare
e primavere già sfiorite con te
E già ti odiavo dal profondo
avevo piombo da sparare
se stereofonico posavo
d’imbarazzante giovinezza lamé
E fantascienza ed erezioni
che mi sfioravano le dita
tasche sfondate e pugni chiusi
“avrei bisogno di scopare con te”
Tremavo un po’ di doglie blu
e di esistenza inutile
vibravo di vertigine
di lecca-lecca e zuccheri
“Gum”
September often waiting for you
and gaunt days one like the other.
I was smoking twenty cigarettes
and lumps in throat and dry thirst of you.
Your postcards-condolences
“Hello bastard, see you”
Adolescence that you were sending
on my incestuous and risqué darkness.
And the future stayed outside
of the high school new wave.
So i was hoping to get ill
or at least that bars get infected.
November mine, you were cold,
forehead as a fridge, heartbeat [literally: wrist] zero.
To stain mirrors was narcosis.
“Could i exchange my Le Ore [old italian porn magazine] with you?”
I was trembling a little,
of blue throes
and useless existence.
I was vibrating for dizziness,
of lollypops and sugars.
August’s wasps in hot swarm
for provincial baths in the river.
I was styling my hair a little to the back,
superficial and entertaining mercies.
Saturday night inside an hole
and disco chewing-gum.
I was licking bitter candies
and already faded Springs with you.
And i was already hating you from within.
I had lead to fire
if stereophonic i was posing
of embarrassing laminated youth.
And sci-fi and hard-ons
that brushed my fingers.
Broken pockets, closed fists.
“I’d need to fuck with you”.
I was trembling a little,
of blue throes
and useless existence.
I was vibrating for dizziness,
of lollypops and sugars.