Baustelle – L’aeroplano

Baustelle

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.

L’aeroplano, unlike many other Baustelle songs, is completely left to the wonderful voice of Rachele Bastreghi, who has usually far less space than Bianconi. The stunning line “I love you and i never think about you” returns a sense of regret, as the memory of this former partner just flashes for a moment, like the airplane passing fast in the sky above. At the same time, underlined on purpose by a pause, we hear that “it goes far away, it flies over… Baghdad”, with a hint to the bombers that were attacking Saddam Hussein’s Iraq at the time. Like if from the dreamlike dimension of memories she/he has to get back to the harsh reality.

“L’aeroplano”

Che cosa resta di noi
che scopiamo nel parcheggio
Cosa resta di noi:
un rottame di Volkswagen.

Il ricordo, si sa, trasfigura la realtà
La verità se ne sta sulle stelle più lontane
Ci rimane una città,
un lavoro sempre uguale
Una canzone che fa sottofondo
all’indecifrabile.

Cosa rimane di noi,
ragazzini e ragazzine
La domenica dentro le chiese
ad ascoltare la parola di Dio.
Il futuro era una nave tutta d’oro
che noi pregavamo ci portasse via lontano.

Cosa rimane di noi
ora che ci siamo amati ed odiati e traditi
e non c’è più limite.

Sfreccia in cielo un aeroplano
Io ti amo e non ti penso mai
Penso a quello che ci resta
Vola l’aeroplano, Va lontano
Vola su Baghdad
Noi voliamo invano

Che cosa resta degli anni passati ad adorarti
Cosa resta di me
delle bocche che ho baciato in discoteca
Che cosa ne è della nostra relazione
Stupidi noi che piangiamo disperati
Che cosa resta dei sogni che avevamo nella testa
La nostra esperienza a che cosa servirà

Sfreccia in cielo un aeroplano
Io ti amo e non ti penso mai
Penso a quello che ci resta
Vola l’aeroplano, Va lontano
Vola su Baghdad
Noi voliamo invano

“The airplane” 

What’s left of us
who fuck in a parking place.
What’s left of us:
a wreck of Volkswagen.

Memory, it’s known, alters reality.
Truth is on the farthest stars.
What’s left is a city,
a work, always the same.
A song that plays as background
to the indecipherable.

What’s left of us,
little boys and girls.
Sunday in the churches
listening to God’s word.
Future was a golden ship
and we prayed it would have brought us far away.

What’s left of us,
now that we loved and betrayed each other
and there is no limit anymore.

Whizzes in the sky, an airplane. [i keep the subject at the end, T.S. Eliot approves]
I love you and i never think about you.
I think about what’s left for us, flies the airplane,
it goes far away, it flies over Baghdad.
We fly in vain.

What’s left of the years adoring you.
What’s left of me,
of the mouths i kissed in the club.
What happened to our relationship,
stupid us who cry desperate.
What’s left of the dreams we had in our minds,
our experience, what will it be useful for?

Whizzes in the sky, an airplane.
I love you and i never think about you.
I think at what’s left for us, the airplane flies,
it goes far away, it flies over Baghdad.
We fly in vain.

Baustelle – Charlie fa surf

Baustelle

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.

Charlie fa surf, published in 2008 album “Amen”, is a typical Baustelle song, with a catchy sound paired with fiercely critical lyrics. Direct inspiration is Charlie don’t surf, work of italian contemporary artist Maurizio Cattelan depicting a student nailed to his desk by two pencils sticked in his hands, but going back to the original meaning would lead to the masterpiece movie Apocalypse Now (here the scene with that line) and the Clash song “Charlie don’t surf”. The song in some ways make fun of the youngsters that are mainstream even in what they believe is their “transgression”.

“Charlie fa surf”

Vorrei morire a quest’età.
Vorrei star fermo mentre il mondo va.
Ho quindici anni.
Programmo la mia drum-machine
e suono la chitarra elettrica.
Vi spacco il culo.

E’ questione d’equilibrio,
non è mica facile.

Charlie fa surf, quanta roba si fa, MDMA
Ma ha le mani inchiodate.
Se Charlie fa skate, non abbiate pietà.
Crocifiggetelo.
Sfiguratelo in volto con la mazza da golf.
Alleluja, alleluja.

Mi piace il metal e l’ r’n’b.
Ho scaricato tonnellate di filmati porno.
Vado in chiesa e faccio sport.
Prendo pastiglie che contengono paroxetina.

Io non voglio crescere.
Andate a farvi fottere.

Charlie fa surf, quanta roba si fa, MDMA
Ma ha le mani inchiodate
da un mondo di grandi e di preti.
Fa skate, non abbiate pietà.
Una mazza da baseball, quanto bene gli fa.
Alleluja, Alleluja.

“Charlie surfs” 

I’d like to die at this age.
I’d like to stay still while the world spins.
I’m fifteen.
I program my drum-machine
and play electric guitar.
I’ll kick your ass.

It’s a matter of balance,
it’s not easy.

Charlie surfs, how much dope that he takes, MDMA
But his hands are nailed.
If Charlie skates, have no mercy.
Crucify him.
Disfigure his face with a golf bat.
Halleluja, Halleluja.

I like heavy metal and R’n’B.
I downloaded tons of porn videos.
I go to church and do sports.
I take pills that contain paroxetine.

I don’t want to grow up.
Go fuck yourselves.

Charlie surfs, how much dope that he takes, MDMA
But his hands are nailed
by a world of adults and priests.
He skates, have no mercy.
A baseball bat, how good it’s for him.
Halleluja, Halleluja.