so what's "Gypsy punk", anyway?
Nov. 3rd, 2006 10:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
floatingleafOMG what sweet insanity. I got my first Gogol Bordello album (you know, um, that weird punkish Gypsy/Ukrainian band from New York that I just recently discovered... what? ;P). It's called Multi Kontra Culti vs. Irony. Seriously. I kid you not. I haven't made that up. And if you think that's somewhat bizarre, just wait till you sample the lyrics. I do realize this particular brand of humor might not be for everyone, but to me it's a riot (I guess I'm twisted enough, then - or maybe I'm just from Eastern Europe... LOL). Anyway... just a few assorted snippets (though I guess I should mention first that the English grammar is somewhat compromised here, possibly on purpose):
that would be grand fun of ironic kind
for your self-collapsing ironic mind
but hey girl we got a cure for you
provided of course you will ever make it through...
let's get radical
and not sporadical
not ironic, sardonic
catatonic, ceremonic
but radical
(from Let's Get Radical)
we wish somebody would just tell us how it is
and when somebody does we just get pissed
we'd rather watch the truth perform reverse-striptease
(from Huliganjetta)
programmed robots are buying and buying
and secluded freaks are still trying trying
(from Through the Roof'n'Underground)
And one song almost in full, because I simply can't resist it. It's called
if you don't see no punks in downtown
you know this town is dying quick... it's just no good
I guarantee you in this town
you'll have a problem finding a goddamn prostitute
in this kind of town, sociological balance is upset
in this kind of town, the women - they never get wet
and in this kind of town
the music is just background for dining
and in this kind of town
the dining is just background for biting
so that's when I pull over on a Texaco
with my new friends from Mexico
and with unlimited budget kontrabanda
we're starting new punk rock parranda
if music doesn't come from every window
you know that something's definitely wrong
here all the cars pass by in silence
dead rollerbladers roll straight into morgue
and if there is no guitar in the house
you know its owner, he cannot be trusted
and if there is no drum set in the office
don't be surprised when the business's getting busted
and if your spouse doesn't play a sitar
don't expect a whole lot of commitment
and if the president doesn't play the sax
he will not get an undertable treatment
so that's when I pull over on a Texaco... etc.
The song ends with an insane mixture of broken Spanish, Ukrainian and possibly Rom. Multi-culti indeed.:P Btw, all the lyrics are written and performed (with a VERY heavy Ukrainian accent) by Eugene Hutz - the guy who played one of the main parts in Everything Is Illuminated. So he wasn't faking the accent for the movie - he really speaks English like that.:D
As for the music... someone compared it to the Pogues, and that's quite accurate - if you replace Irish drunken revelry with Slavic/Gypsy drunken revelry, that is. Which is not that much of a difference, really.;D And I bet the parts of the lyrics I can't understand are just as hilarious and brilliant as those I can.:P The absolute gem of the album is a classically Gypsy song called Baro Foro, with just some broken English mixed into the Rom lyrics, but mainly instrumental - and it just happens to be one of the most lively, joyful, exuberant, passionate, ecstatic and life-affirming folk songs I have ever heard. It sent me dancing wildly around the room... and believe me, that doesn't happen too often.;)
So if anyone thought I only had a heart for dark, gloomy music - here's proof to the contrary. I love any kind of music that speaks to me emotionally, be it tribal drums or synthesizers. What matters is that it sounds genuine, has a soul to it, you know? Like those "secluded freaks" that are still trying, despite the proliferation of "programmed robots". Or something. Yeah, I'm probably not making much sense here. Not that anyone would be reading at this point anyway. It's just my very own autistic stream of consciousness that somehow insists on getting out, despite the total lack of potential informative value. Whatever. Lock me up with a scrap of paper and a pencil, and I would probably still try to write something like this - so why not do it in a public online journal?... Exhibitionistic much?... Well, here at least I can legitimately pretend to have an attentive audience.:P Even if I seem to be trying really hard to scare it off.:]
Yeah. That was incredibly deep, even for me.;\ That "Gypsy punk" insanity must be contagious... or something. Good night, everyone.:D
that would be grand fun of ironic kind
for your self-collapsing ironic mind
but hey girl we got a cure for you
provided of course you will ever make it through...
let's get radical
and not sporadical
not ironic, sardonic
catatonic, ceremonic
but radical
(from Let's Get Radical)
we wish somebody would just tell us how it is
and when somebody does we just get pissed
we'd rather watch the truth perform reverse-striptease
(from Huliganjetta)
programmed robots are buying and buying
and secluded freaks are still trying trying
(from Through the Roof'n'Underground)
And one song almost in full, because I simply can't resist it. It's called
if you don't see no punks in downtown
you know this town is dying quick... it's just no good
I guarantee you in this town
you'll have a problem finding a goddamn prostitute
in this kind of town, sociological balance is upset
in this kind of town, the women - they never get wet
and in this kind of town
the music is just background for dining
and in this kind of town
the dining is just background for biting
so that's when I pull over on a Texaco
with my new friends from Mexico
and with unlimited budget kontrabanda
we're starting new punk rock parranda
if music doesn't come from every window
you know that something's definitely wrong
here all the cars pass by in silence
dead rollerbladers roll straight into morgue
and if there is no guitar in the house
you know its owner, he cannot be trusted
and if there is no drum set in the office
don't be surprised when the business's getting busted
and if your spouse doesn't play a sitar
don't expect a whole lot of commitment
and if the president doesn't play the sax
he will not get an undertable treatment
so that's when I pull over on a Texaco... etc.
The song ends with an insane mixture of broken Spanish, Ukrainian and possibly Rom. Multi-culti indeed.:P Btw, all the lyrics are written and performed (with a VERY heavy Ukrainian accent) by Eugene Hutz - the guy who played one of the main parts in Everything Is Illuminated. So he wasn't faking the accent for the movie - he really speaks English like that.:D
As for the music... someone compared it to the Pogues, and that's quite accurate - if you replace Irish drunken revelry with Slavic/Gypsy drunken revelry, that is. Which is not that much of a difference, really.;D And I bet the parts of the lyrics I can't understand are just as hilarious and brilliant as those I can.:P The absolute gem of the album is a classically Gypsy song called Baro Foro, with just some broken English mixed into the Rom lyrics, but mainly instrumental - and it just happens to be one of the most lively, joyful, exuberant, passionate, ecstatic and life-affirming folk songs I have ever heard. It sent me dancing wildly around the room... and believe me, that doesn't happen too often.;)
So if anyone thought I only had a heart for dark, gloomy music - here's proof to the contrary. I love any kind of music that speaks to me emotionally, be it tribal drums or synthesizers. What matters is that it sounds genuine, has a soul to it, you know? Like those "secluded freaks" that are still trying, despite the proliferation of "programmed robots". Or something. Yeah, I'm probably not making much sense here. Not that anyone would be reading at this point anyway. It's just my very own autistic stream of consciousness that somehow insists on getting out, despite the total lack of potential informative value. Whatever. Lock me up with a scrap of paper and a pencil, and I would probably still try to write something like this - so why not do it in a public online journal?... Exhibitionistic much?... Well, here at least I can legitimately pretend to have an attentive audience.:P Even if I seem to be trying really hard to scare it off.:]
Yeah. That was incredibly deep, even for me.;\ That "Gypsy punk" insanity must be contagious... or something. Good night, everyone.:D
