Jack The Ripper / Old Stars
Ladies First (2005, Le Village Vert)
Il suffit de très peu pour qu'une chanson devienne immortelle. Une mandoline triste comme une vieille étoile blafarde, une sourde ponctuation de la contrebasse, de vagues accords de synthé qui soufflent comme le vent d'automne, un piano qui laisse derrière lui des chapelets de peine, un « hey » dont l'écho rebondit sur une magnifique progression harmonique... Mais cette subtile alchimie capable de produire tout un univers d'émotions en quelques minutes n'existerait pas sans la fragilité des musiciens. Old Stars me procure un de ces frissons intenses et bouleversants qui s'impriment à jamais dans la mémoire. Un de ces reflets poignants de l'existence dont j'essaierai à toute force de retrouver l'exact souvenir à chaque fois que j'aurai besoin de conjurer le doute et la peur.
5 décembre 2009
Vidéo / Old Stars
Magny-le-Hongre (Seine-et-Marne, France), 3 juin 2006.
Auteurs
Textes et musique : Jack the Ripper.
Paroles
Old stars are shining from the sky
You're the spotlight, you're the sunlight
Can't you see they're getting high on you?
Old stars are shining from your eyes
You're the spotlight, you're the sunlight
Can't you see they're getting high on you?
Old stars are playing
Still / There / Still
They are faking
You're the spotlight, you're the sunlight
Can't you see they're getting high on you?
Burn!
Burn the flames!
Burn the spaces, little star!
You can fall down! You can stumble!
Planets and comets are falling from the sky
Useless little atoms are burning all the bridges.
And they fall in, and they fall down
I saw many men (they) fall
Come on little comets, we love to see you go!
Poets and comets are falling from beyond
Lucy has died for her diamonds in the sky
And they shine in, and they shine on
I saw many men (they) fall
Come on little comets, we love to see you go!
All the poets consumate
Burn their brain like comets
While Venus in her car
Rolls to Heaven
Like a star
He was right, Mister Hegel
« The end of Art must be nigh »
For we burn and we burn
What money can't buy
And the sun may shine on
While the moon makes me sad
I'm a man full of scars
But Heaven's so far
For I burnt my talents
On their funeral pyre
Cause they and they burn
What money can't buy...
