Matt Kaye
THE GUARDIAN
(Akord Records / Kulturni center Maribor, Javna muzika Maribor, ARLP 003 / FREE LP 028, 2018)
S pričujočega albuma objavlja single The Guardian.
Skladba je na voljo na naslednjih povezavah:
video single:https://youtu.be/tn8-Llpjarc
mp3:http://www.ljudmila.org/subkulturni-azil/front/img/admin/file/Matt_Kaye_-_The_Guardian.mp3
mp3 zip:http://www.ljudmila.org/subkulturni-azil/front/img/admin/file/Matt_Kaye_-_The_Guardian_MP3.zip
wav zip:http://www.ljudmila.org/subkulturni-azil/front/img/admin/file/Matt_Kaye_-_The_Guardian_WAV.zip
Matt Kaye // Matej Krajnc je glasbenik in pisec, čigar neumorna potreba po ustvarjanju v slovenskem glasbenem in kulturnem prostoru nima enakega. Skozi nenehno ustvarjanje, nenehno objavljanje pesmi in glasbe ustvarja bogato knjižnico del, ki je ob sami kvantiteti tudi prežeta z neverjetno kvaliteto. Skozi tematsko antologijsko izdajo, ki se z novimi posnetki sprehodi po bogatem repertoarju avtorja, sije izreden čut za besedo in humor.
V delu je prav tako plošča s posnetki v slovenskem jeziku – nekaj teh pa je za pokušino tudi na pričujoči izdaji.
Še besedilo:
THE GUARDIAN
Remarkably smart and remarkably stupid
I’ve seen it all in my time
And when being asked which one I prefer
I answer with tobacco and mime
You have good taste, I haven’t seen many
Trout Mask Replicas in hands
Of highly suburban, shirt-matches-trousers
Bespectacled ornery men
I’ve walked all your streets, I’ve seen all your ZOOs,
I met a songwriter or two
I’ve seen all the outtakes from Danny Kaye movies
If you locked yourself in this room by the pool
You should’ve known better than that
You say you’ll be bigger than Baldensperger
But I guess you know that he’s dead
So when you’re looking for gold in the cities
Carved in perpetual bronze
You must understand that I can’t help you
Or your polite lot of loved ones
I can’t get bands to sing on your weddings
You’ll have to pay them a fee
You’ll probably say what kind of a guardian are you
But then, what do you know about me
Remarkably smart or remarkably stupid
I don’t need much time to decide
I want your breakfast, I want your lunch
And by the end of this cycle, your wife
You better hand me your manuscripts, boy
You better hand me your Strat
If you by this time haven’t amounted to nothing
We might as well leave it at that
So when you’re looking for gold in the cities
Carved in perpetual bronze
You must understand that I can’t help you
Or your polite lot of loved ones
I can’t get bands to sing on your weddings
You’ll have to pay them a fee
You’ll probably say what kind of a guardian are you
But then, what do you know about me