Gimme an F!
F!
Gimme an U!
U!
Gimme a C!
C!
Gimme a K!
K!
What's that spell ?
FUCK!
What's that spell ?
FUCK!
What's that spell ?
FUCK!
Yeah, come on all of you, big strong men,
Uncle Sam needs your help again.
He's got himself in a terrible jam
Way down yonder in Vietnam
So put down your books and pick up a gun,
We're gonna have a whole lotta fun.
And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
Well, come on generals, let's move fast;
Your big chance has come at last.
Gotta go out and get those reds —
The only good commie is the one who's dead
And you know that peace can only be won
When we've blown 'em all to kingdom come.
And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
Huh!
Well, come on Wall Street, don't move slow,
Why man, this is war au-go-go.
There's plenty good money to be made
By supplying the Army with the tools of the trade,
Just hope and pray that if they drop the bomb,
They drop it on the Viet Cong.
And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam.
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
Well, come on mothers throughout the land,
Pack your boys off to Vietnam.
Come on fathers, don't hesitate,
Send 'em off before it's too late.
Be the first one on your block
To have your boy come home in a box.
And it's one, two, three
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam.
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
F!
Gimme an U!
U!
Gimme a C!
C!
Gimme a K!
K!
What's that spell ?
FUCK!
What's that spell ?
FUCK!
What's that spell ?
FUCK!
Yeah, come on all of you, big strong men,
Uncle Sam needs your help again.
He's got himself in a terrible jam
Way down yonder in Vietnam
So put down your books and pick up a gun,
We're gonna have a whole lotta fun.
And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
Well, come on generals, let's move fast;
Your big chance has come at last.
Gotta go out and get those reds —
The only good commie is the one who's dead
And you know that peace can only be won
When we've blown 'em all to kingdom come.
And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
Huh!
Well, come on Wall Street, don't move slow,
Why man, this is war au-go-go.
There's plenty good money to be made
By supplying the Army with the tools of the trade,
Just hope and pray that if they drop the bomb,
They drop it on the Viet Cong.
And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam.
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
Well, come on mothers throughout the land,
Pack your boys off to Vietnam.
Come on fathers, don't hesitate,
Send 'em off before it's too late.
Be the first one on your block
To have your boy come home in a box.
And it's one, two, three
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam.
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
Lingua: Italiano
Versione italiana di Alex Agus
IL RAG DELL'INCHIODATO
Datemi una F!
F!
Datemi una U!
U!
Datemi una C!
C!
Datemi una K!
K!
Cos'è che viene fuori?
FUCK!
Cos'è che viene fuori?
FUCK!
Cos'è che viene fuori?
FUCK!
Sù, venite, voi forzuti,
lo zio Sam ha di nuovo bisogno di voi,
s'è ficcato in un terribile casino,
laggiù in Vietnam,
insomma, buttate i libri e pigliatevi un fucile,
ci si divertirà un monte!
E un due tre
ma si combatte per che?
Non chiederlo a me, m'importa una sega,
prossima fermata: Vietnam!
E cinque sei sette
spalancate le porte del cielo,
non c'è neanche il tempo di chiedersi che cazzo succede,
yu-uuuu! si muore!
Forza, Generali, sbrigatevi,
la vostra grande occasione è finalmente arrivata,
sguinzagliatevi e pigliate quei rossi,
c'è un solo comunista buono: quello morto!
E voi lo sapete bene che la Pace potrà essere conquistata
solo quando li avremo spediti tutti a quel paese.
E un due tre
ma si combatte per che?
Non chiederlo a me, m'importa una sega,
prossima fermata: Vietnam!
E cinque sei sette
spalancate le porte del cielo,
non c'è neanche il tempo di chiedersi che cazzo succede,
yu-uuuu! si muore!
Ah!
Sù, Wall Street, non rallentare,
perché mai? qui c'è guerra a volontà,
c'è un sacco di bei soldi da fare
rifornendo l'esercito degli strumenti del mestiere!
Sperate solo e pregate che, se sganciano la Bomba,
la sgancino sui Vietcong!
E un due tre
ma si combatte per che?
Non chiederlo a me, m'importa una sega,
prossima fermata: Vietnam!
E cinque sei sette
spalancate le porte del cielo,
non c'è neanche il tempo di chiedersi che cazzo succede,
yu-uuuu! si muore!
Suvvia, mamme di tutto il Paese,
mandate i vostri ragazzi in Vietnam,
suvvia, babbi, non esitate,
spediteli prima che sia troppo tardi:
fate in modo, via, di essere i primi nel vostro palazzo
ad accogliere vostro figlio che torna a casa in una cassa!
E un due tre
ma si combatte per che?
Non chiederlo a me, m'importa una sega,
prossima fermata: Vietnam!
E cinque sei sette
spalancate le porte del cielo,
non c'è neanche il tempo di chiedersi che cazzo succede,
yu-uuuu! si muore!
Datemi una F!
F!
Datemi una U!
U!
Datemi una C!
C!
Datemi una K!
K!
Cos'è che viene fuori?
FUCK!
Cos'è che viene fuori?
FUCK!
Cos'è che viene fuori?
FUCK!
Sù, venite, voi forzuti,
lo zio Sam ha di nuovo bisogno di voi,
s'è ficcato in un terribile casino,
laggiù in Vietnam,
insomma, buttate i libri e pigliatevi un fucile,
ci si divertirà un monte!
E un due tre
ma si combatte per che?
Non chiederlo a me, m'importa una sega,
prossima fermata: Vietnam!
E cinque sei sette
spalancate le porte del cielo,
non c'è neanche il tempo di chiedersi che cazzo succede,
yu-uuuu! si muore!
Forza, Generali, sbrigatevi,
la vostra grande occasione è finalmente arrivata,
sguinzagliatevi e pigliate quei rossi,
c'è un solo comunista buono: quello morto!
E voi lo sapete bene che la Pace potrà essere conquistata
solo quando li avremo spediti tutti a quel paese.
E un due tre
ma si combatte per che?
Non chiederlo a me, m'importa una sega,
prossima fermata: Vietnam!
E cinque sei sette
spalancate le porte del cielo,
non c'è neanche il tempo di chiedersi che cazzo succede,
yu-uuuu! si muore!
Ah!
Sù, Wall Street, non rallentare,
perché mai? qui c'è guerra a volontà,
c'è un sacco di bei soldi da fare
rifornendo l'esercito degli strumenti del mestiere!
Sperate solo e pregate che, se sganciano la Bomba,
la sgancino sui Vietcong!
E un due tre
ma si combatte per che?
Non chiederlo a me, m'importa una sega,
prossima fermata: Vietnam!
E cinque sei sette
spalancate le porte del cielo,
non c'è neanche il tempo di chiedersi che cazzo succede,
yu-uuuu! si muore!
Suvvia, mamme di tutto il Paese,
mandate i vostri ragazzi in Vietnam,
suvvia, babbi, non esitate,
spediteli prima che sia troppo tardi:
fate in modo, via, di essere i primi nel vostro palazzo
ad accogliere vostro figlio che torna a casa in una cassa!
E un due tre
ma si combatte per che?
Non chiederlo a me, m'importa una sega,
prossima fermata: Vietnam!
E cinque sei sette
spalancate le porte del cielo,
non c'è neanche il tempo di chiedersi che cazzo succede,
yu-uuuu! si muore!
Lingua: Francese
Version française de Jean Louis Bergami, da questa pagina.
«Voici la traduction de I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin-To-Die, archétype de la chanson pacifiste. On a écrit des tas de chansons contre la guerre durant les années soixante, mais aucune autre ne possède un texte aussi efficace ni aussi intelligemment construit. J'ai essayé, plutôt que de coller exactement aux paroles, de restituer l'humour corrosif de la version originale de la chanson.»
«Voici la traduction de I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin-To-Die, archétype de la chanson pacifiste. On a écrit des tas de chansons contre la guerre durant les années soixante, mais aucune autre ne possède un texte aussi efficace ni aussi intelligemment construit. J'ai essayé, plutôt que de coller exactement aux paroles, de restituer l'humour corrosif de la version originale de la chanson.»
Ouais ! Allez-y, les hommes forts,
L'oncle Sam a besoin de vous.
Il est dans une terrible mélasse
Là-bas au Vietnam
Alors, posez vos livres et prenez une arme,
On va bien se marrer.
Et un, deux, trois,
Pourquoi nous battons-nous ?
Ne me le demandez pas, je m'en fous,
Prochain arrêt : le Vietnam ;
Et cinq, six, sept,
Ouvrez les portes du paradis,
Pas le temps de se poser des questions,
Youpie ! On va tous crever.
Allez-y les généraux, faites vite mouvement ;
Voici enfin votre grande chance.
Faites une sortie et chopez ces rouges —
Les seuls qui sont bons sont ceux qui sont morts
Vous savez que la paix ne pourra être gagnée
Que quand on les aura tous expédiés dans un monde meilleur.
Et un, deux, trois,
Pourquoi nous battons-nous ?
Ne me le demandez pas, je m'en fous,
Prochain arrêt : le Vietnam ;
Et cinq, six, sept,
Ouvrez les portes du paradis,
Pas le temps de se poser des questions,
Youpie ! On va tous crever.
Hou !
Allez Wall Street, ne ralentis pas la cadence,
C'est une guerre aux petits oignons.
Il y a plein de bon fric à se faire
En devenant fournisseur de l'armée,
Espérons simplement que s'ils lâchent la bombe,
Ils la lâchent sur le Viet Cong.
Et un, deux, trois,
Pourquoi nous battons-nous ?
Ne me le demandez pas, je m'en fous,
Prochain arrêt : le Vietnam ;
Et cinq, six, sept,
Ouvrez les portes du paradis,
Pas le temps de se poser des questions,
Youpie ! On va tous crever.
Allez, les mamans de ce pays,
Expédiez vos gosses au Vietnam.
Allez les papas, n'hésitez pas,
Envoyez-les avant qu'il ne soit trop tard.
Soyez le premier de votre immeuble
A recevoir votre gamin dans une boite.
Et un, deux, trois,
Pourquoi nous battons-nous ?
Ne me le demandez pas, je m'en fous,
Prochain arrêt : le Vietnam ;
Et cinq, six, sept,
Ouvrez les portes du paradis,
Pas le temps de se poser des questions,
Youpie ! On va tous crever
L'oncle Sam a besoin de vous.
Il est dans une terrible mélasse
Là-bas au Vietnam
Alors, posez vos livres et prenez une arme,
On va bien se marrer.
Et un, deux, trois,
Pourquoi nous battons-nous ?
Ne me le demandez pas, je m'en fous,
Prochain arrêt : le Vietnam ;
Et cinq, six, sept,
Ouvrez les portes du paradis,
Pas le temps de se poser des questions,
Youpie ! On va tous crever.
Allez-y les généraux, faites vite mouvement ;
Voici enfin votre grande chance.
Faites une sortie et chopez ces rouges —
Les seuls qui sont bons sont ceux qui sont morts
Vous savez que la paix ne pourra être gagnée
Que quand on les aura tous expédiés dans un monde meilleur.
Et un, deux, trois,
Pourquoi nous battons-nous ?
Ne me le demandez pas, je m'en fous,
Prochain arrêt : le Vietnam ;
Et cinq, six, sept,
Ouvrez les portes du paradis,
Pas le temps de se poser des questions,
Youpie ! On va tous crever.
Hou !
Allez Wall Street, ne ralentis pas la cadence,
C'est une guerre aux petits oignons.
Il y a plein de bon fric à se faire
En devenant fournisseur de l'armée,
Espérons simplement que s'ils lâchent la bombe,
Ils la lâchent sur le Viet Cong.
Et un, deux, trois,
Pourquoi nous battons-nous ?
Ne me le demandez pas, je m'en fous,
Prochain arrêt : le Vietnam ;
Et cinq, six, sept,
Ouvrez les portes du paradis,
Pas le temps de se poser des questions,
Youpie ! On va tous crever.
Allez, les mamans de ce pays,
Expédiez vos gosses au Vietnam.
Allez les papas, n'hésitez pas,
Envoyez-les avant qu'il ne soit trop tard.
Soyez le premier de votre immeuble
A recevoir votre gamin dans une boite.
Et un, deux, trois,
Pourquoi nous battons-nous ?
Ne me le demandez pas, je m'en fous,
Prochain arrêt : le Vietnam ;
Et cinq, six, sept,
Ouvrez les portes du paradis,
Pas le temps de se poser des questions,
Youpie ! On va tous crever
Lingua: Ebraico
תחנה הבאה: ויאטנם
יאללה חבר'ה, מי שמכם חזק שיקום
הדוד סם זקוק לעזרתכם
הוא הסתבך בצרה צרורה
שם בתוך וייטנאם
הניחו את הספרים וקחו את הרובים
אנו עומדים לעשות כיף חיים אז:
(פזמון)
1, 2, 3, למה אנחנו נלחמים
אל תשאלו אותי, אני לא שם זין
התחנה הבאה היא וייטנאם
5, 6, 7,פתחו את שערי הפנינה
זה לא הזמן לשאול שאלות
וופי!!! אנחנו עומדים למות כולנו
כן, בואו כל הגנרלים, זוזו מהר
הצ'אנס האחרון הגיע סוף סוף
עכשיו צאו החוצה ותיפסו את "האדומים"
מכיוון שקומוניסט טוב הוא קומוניסט מת
ושלום יכול להיות רק
נפוצץ את הממלכה שלהם
בואו, ברוקרים ואנשי בורסה, אל תהיו איטיים
אנשים תתעוררו, זו מלחמה שם
אפשר לעשות המון כסף
ולמכור לצבא המון מכשירים
רק התפללו שהפצצה שנזרוק
תיפול על הווייאטקונג
כן, בואו אמהות מכל רחבי הארץ
ואספו את הבנים שלכם מוייטנאם
בואו אבות, למה אתם מהססים?
נסו להוציא את הבנים שלכם לפני שיהיה מאוחר
היו הראשונים ברחוב שלכם
לקחת את בניכם חזרה הביתה בקופסא
יאללה חבר'ה, מי שמכם חזק שיקום
הדוד סם זקוק לעזרתכם
הוא הסתבך בצרה צרורה
שם בתוך וייטנאם
הניחו את הספרים וקחו את הרובים
אנו עומדים לעשות כיף חיים אז:
(פזמון)
1, 2, 3, למה אנחנו נלחמים
אל תשאלו אותי, אני לא שם זין
התחנה הבאה היא וייטנאם
5, 6, 7,פתחו את שערי הפנינה
זה לא הזמן לשאול שאלות
וופי!!! אנחנו עומדים למות כולנו
כן, בואו כל הגנרלים, זוזו מהר
הצ'אנס האחרון הגיע סוף סוף
עכשיו צאו החוצה ותיפסו את "האדומים"
מכיוון שקומוניסט טוב הוא קומוניסט מת
ושלום יכול להיות רק
נפוצץ את הממלכה שלהם
בואו, ברוקרים ואנשי בורסה, אל תהיו איטיים
אנשים תתעוררו, זו מלחמה שם
אפשר לעשות המון כסף
ולמכור לצבא המון מכשירים
רק התפללו שהפצצה שנזרוק
תיפול על הווייאטקונג
כן, בואו אמהות מכל רחבי הארץ
ואספו את הבנים שלכם מוייטנאם
בואו אבות, למה אתם מהססים?
נסו להוציא את הבנים שלכם לפני שיהיה מאוחר
היו הראשונים ברחוב שלכם
לקחת את בניכם חזרה הביתה בקופסא
inviata da Riccardo Venturi / ריקרדו ונטורי - 12/3/2007 - 19:11
Lingua: Inglese
Versione 2002 adattata alla guerra in Iraq
The Iraqi War Song
(or Feel Like I'm Smelling a Rat Rag)
A song by Country Bumpkin and the Hogs©2002
Give me an S!
S!
Give me a C!
C!
Give me an A!
A!
Give me an M!
M!
What's that spell?
Scam!
What's that spell?
Scam!
What's that spell?
Scam!
Come on all of you dumbed down men,
that son of a Bush needs your help again.
He's got himself in a terrorist jam,
when daddy sent chemicals off to old Saddam.
So roll up your sleeves for vaccines in your arm,
they don't tell you that they're doin' you harm
And its one, two, three, what are we fighting for?
Most know it's the same old scam,
next stop is old Baghdad.
And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates.
Well, we've got no mind to question why,
whoopee, we're all gonna die
Now prepare yourselves generals for the big blast,
India and Pakistan are heating up fast.
Why you should go out and kill Afghans is
cause the only good Taliban is one that's dead.
They say that global peace can only be won,
when they blast us all to kingdom come
And its one, two, three, what are we fighting for?
The clueless just don't give a damn,
where the hell is Pakistan?
And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates
With Prosac minds we don't care to know why,
whoopee, we're all gonna die.
Now come on Wall Street don't be slow,
why man this is war so go, go, go.
There's plenty of big fortunes to be made,
by supplying the Chinese with tools of the trade.
Just hope and pray that if they start the bombing,
they'll drop them on Osama bin Laden
And its one, two, three, what are we fighting for?
Most know it's the same old scam,
Wag the dog at ol' Saddam.
And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates.
Well, we've got no time to wonder why,
whoopee, we're all gonna die
So come on all you mothers throughout the land,
pack your boys off to old Baghdad.
Come on you fathers don't hesitate,
send your girls too before their wedding date.
Be the first ones on the block to have your kids come home in a box.
And its one, two, three, What are we fighting for?
The clueless just don't give a damn,
about the oil in Afghanistan.
And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates.
Well, Rockefeller says the population's too high
and half of us need to die.
So come on all of you dumbed down men,
the son of a Bush needs your help again.
He's got us in a terrible jam,
ousting daddy's partner old Saddam.
So don't roll up your sleeves for any shots in your arm,
it's just smarter to stay on the farm.
That's all.
Don't you know it's a SCAM?
(or Feel Like I'm Smelling a Rat Rag)
A song by Country Bumpkin and the Hogs©2002
Give me an S!
S!
Give me a C!
C!
Give me an A!
A!
Give me an M!
M!
What's that spell?
Scam!
What's that spell?
Scam!
What's that spell?
Scam!
Come on all of you dumbed down men,
that son of a Bush needs your help again.
He's got himself in a terrorist jam,
when daddy sent chemicals off to old Saddam.
So roll up your sleeves for vaccines in your arm,
they don't tell you that they're doin' you harm
And its one, two, three, what are we fighting for?
Most know it's the same old scam,
next stop is old Baghdad.
And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates.
Well, we've got no mind to question why,
whoopee, we're all gonna die
Now prepare yourselves generals for the big blast,
India and Pakistan are heating up fast.
Why you should go out and kill Afghans is
cause the only good Taliban is one that's dead.
They say that global peace can only be won,
when they blast us all to kingdom come
And its one, two, three, what are we fighting for?
The clueless just don't give a damn,
where the hell is Pakistan?
And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates
With Prosac minds we don't care to know why,
whoopee, we're all gonna die.
Now come on Wall Street don't be slow,
why man this is war so go, go, go.
There's plenty of big fortunes to be made,
by supplying the Chinese with tools of the trade.
Just hope and pray that if they start the bombing,
they'll drop them on Osama bin Laden
And its one, two, three, what are we fighting for?
Most know it's the same old scam,
Wag the dog at ol' Saddam.
And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates.
Well, we've got no time to wonder why,
whoopee, we're all gonna die
So come on all you mothers throughout the land,
pack your boys off to old Baghdad.
Come on you fathers don't hesitate,
send your girls too before their wedding date.
Be the first ones on the block to have your kids come home in a box.
And its one, two, three, What are we fighting for?
The clueless just don't give a damn,
about the oil in Afghanistan.
And it's five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates.
Well, Rockefeller says the population's too high
and half of us need to die.
So come on all of you dumbed down men,
the son of a Bush needs your help again.
He's got us in a terrible jam,
ousting daddy's partner old Saddam.
So don't roll up your sleeves for any shots in your arm,
it's just smarter to stay on the farm.
That's all.
Don't you know it's a SCAM?
Lingua: Inglese
altra versione contro la guerra in Iraq (gennaio 2003)
Well c'mon Georgie, let's move fast,
your big chance has come at last.
Ya gotta go out and get Hussein,
He's been driving you and your father insane.
So be the first in your family,
to bag Baghdad for your Dad!
And it's one, two, three
What'r we fightin for
Don't ask me I don't give a damn
Next stop will be Baghdad
And it's five, six, seven
Open up the pearly gates
Be the first one on your block
To get a body bag from Iraq
Well come on oil men get in line
This goes right to the bottom line
Forget Enron and Kenny Lay
Georgie Junior will make your day
Just one thing of which we're certain
It's a great day for Halliburton
C'mon cowboys grab your guns,
We're all set to have some fun,
This economy really sucks,
Let's spend a few hundred billion bucks,
Find a WMD today
And stick it in your 401(k)
While the Shrub is fighting with Iraq
North Korea stabs him in the back
Says hey Junior we got a nuke
Now Georgie boy is like to puke
Best way to fight the Evil Axis
Is to go and lower taxes
your big chance has come at last.
Ya gotta go out and get Hussein,
He's been driving you and your father insane.
So be the first in your family,
to bag Baghdad for your Dad!
And it's one, two, three
What'r we fightin for
Don't ask me I don't give a damn
Next stop will be Baghdad
And it's five, six, seven
Open up the pearly gates
Be the first one on your block
To get a body bag from Iraq
Well come on oil men get in line
This goes right to the bottom line
Forget Enron and Kenny Lay
Georgie Junior will make your day
Just one thing of which we're certain
It's a great day for Halliburton
C'mon cowboys grab your guns,
We're all set to have some fun,
This economy really sucks,
Let's spend a few hundred billion bucks,
Find a WMD today
And stick it in your 401(k)
While the Shrub is fighting with Iraq
North Korea stabs him in the back
Says hey Junior we got a nuke
Now Georgie boy is like to puke
Best way to fight the Evil Axis
Is to go and lower taxes
Sul sito di Country Joe c'è un'intera pagina intitolata "Fixin' to Die in Iraq" zeppa di versioni di "I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin'-To-Die Rag" scritte dai suoi fans e dedicate alla guerra in Iraq.
Alessandro - 9/4/2008 - 10:59
Nuovo podcast su Radio Sankara
a cura di Lorenzo Masetti, webmaster del sito Canzoni contro la guerra www.antiwarsongs.org Viaggio a Itaca prende il nome dalla famosa poesia di Kavafis nella quale il viaggio era la metafora della vita.
Un podcast che vi porterà a salpare in lungo e in largo sull’oceano delle canzoni, entrando in porti sconosciuti...
Ogni puntata presenta canzoni legate da un filo conduttore, che può essere un particolare avvenimento storico o un argomento più generale, con un occhio di riguardo alle canzoni impegnate ma senza trascurare la qualità della musica
OUT h 18:00 la prima puntata NEXT STOP IS VIETNAM - le canzoni che hanno provato a fermare la guerra del Vietnam
Disponibile su Spotify, Spreaker, YouTube, Amazon Music, Audible e sul sito www.radiosankara.it
Next Stop is Vietnam
un podcast su Radio Sankara a cura di Lorenzo Masetti
Spotify:
un podcast su Radio Sankara a cura di Lorenzo Masetti
“Un due tre, si combatte ma per che? Non chiederlo a me, m’importa un corno, prossima fermata: Vietnam.” Così cantavano Country Joe and the Fish a Woodstock nel 1969. In questa puntata parleremo delle canzoni contro la guerra in Vietnam, di cosa ascoltavano i soldati mandati a combattere laggiù e faremo anche un salto in Italia.
È possibile dichiarare dal basso la fine di una guerra, fermare una guerra con la forza della poesia e della musica? Il grande folksinger Phil Ochs pensava di sì. Racconteremo anche la sua storia.
È possibile dichiarare dal basso la fine di una guerra, fermare una guerra con la forza della poesia e della musica? Il grande folksinger Phil Ochs pensava di sì. Racconteremo anche la sua storia.
Viaggio a Itaca - Next Stop is Vietnam
Le canzoni che hanno provato a fermare la guerra nel Vietnam. “Un due tre, si combatte ma per che? Non chiederlo a me, m’importa un corno, prossima fermata:
Spotify:
Viaggio a Itaca - Next Stop is Vietnam
Listen to this episode from Radio Sankara on Spotify. Le canzoni che hanno provato a fermare la guerra nel Vietnam. “Un due tre, si combatte ma per che? Non chiederlo a me, m’importa un corno, prossima fermata: Vietnam.” Così cantavano Country Joe and the Fish a Woodstock nel 1969. In questa puntata parleremo delle canzoni contro la guerra in Vietnam, di cosa ascoltavano i soldati mandati a combattere laggiù e faremo anche un salto in Italia
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Lyrics and music / Testo e musica / Paroles et musique / Sanat ja sävel: Joseph Allen "Country Joe" McDonald
The "Fish" Cheer/I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin'-to-Die Rag
Un pezzo contro la guerra nel Vietnam.
Resta celebre il grido che Country Joe McDonald lanciava nei concerti invitando il pubblico allo spelling della parola "F-U-C-K", esortando la folla a reagire contro una politica estera che voleva gli Stati Uniti impegnati in una guerra già persa.
L'apparizione del gruppo a Woodstock nel 1969 coinvolse in questo grido mezzo milione di persone.
everything you want to know about the song and much, much more! (Country Joe's official website)
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"Si potrebbe dire che m'è presa la fissa dell'iscatolamento', eheh! e qualcuno dirà che c'è un modo migliore ;-)), vabbe', è qui che mi sfrigola a farmi compagnia col suo glorioso vinile Vanguard d'annata, 'sta canzone, una marcetta country in quattro tempi, di quelle sagome di Joe McDonald e i suoi amici ('Pollo', David, Bruce, Barry...). Lei, che è anzianotta del '67, ne ha viste di minchiate, sempre uguali, sembra, non può star fuori dalle CCG!"
(Alex Agus dalla mailing list "Fabrizio")"
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«I wrote fixin-to-die-rag in summer of 1965 after I had been discharged from the US Navy for several years. It just popped into my head one day and I finished it in about 30 minutes. I did not have a conscious purpose in mind although I had been working on another song about the Vietnam War called Who Am I for several days so I had the war on my mind. The Who Am I song was part of a play I was writing songs for titled Change Over, written by Fred Hayden and directed by Nina Serrano. It was performed twice, once on the University of California Berkeley campus and once on the San Francisco State College campus. 1965 was the year that the Vietnam War became big news and a big protest issue with students.
The song attempts to address the horror of going to war with a dark sarcastic form of humor called GI humor'. GI humor is a way people have of complaining about their situation so it will not get them in trouble and keep them from going insane in an insane environment: war.»
(Country Joe McDonald, da Vietnam Era Antiwar Music dove si può ascoltare la canzone in Real Audio)
THAT NOTORIOUS CHEER
[In the original version] Each member of the band (Barry Melton, Bruce Barthol, David Cohen, Gary "Chicken" Hirsh and myself) yelled one letter and the remaining member yelled "what's that spell?" We overdubbed ourselves and workers from the Vanguard Records office answering each yelled command: "gimme an F," "gimme an I," "gimme an S," "gimme an H," and then "what's that spell?" yelled many times -- the answer being "Fish Fish Fish," of course.
Time passed and audiences, having heard the record, were prepared to spell F-I-S-H out in front of us performing the "I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin’-to-Die Rag." The mood in the country began to sour over the Vietnam War. While playing the Shaefer Beer Festival in New York City, Gary "Chicken" Hirsh got the great idea to change the "FISH" cheer to the "FUCK" cheer that night for the first time! We did. And the audience loved it. We were kicked off of the Shaffer Beer Festival for life and also paid to STAY OFF of the Ed Sullivan TV show which had paid us in advance for a future appearance. They said "keep the money but you will never be on the Ed Sullivan show."
(Country Joe, from the official site)
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[Nella versione originale] ogni componente del gruppo (Barry Melton, Bruce Barthol, David Cohen, Gary "Chicken" Hirsh e io stesso) urlava una lettera e gli altri urlavano "what's that spell?". Ci sovraincidemmo noi stessi ed i lavoratori della Vanguard Recors che rispondevano a ogni ordine urlato: "datemi una F", "datemi una I", datemi una S" datemi una H" e poi "what's that spell?" urlato molte volte -- naturalmente la risposta era "Fish Fish Fish Fish".
Il tempo passò e il pubblico che aveva ascoltato il disco era preparato a fare lo spelling di F-I-S-H quando cantavamo "I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin’-to-Die Rag.".
L'umore del paese comincio ad inasprirsi per la guerra in Vietnam. Mentre suonavamo al Shaefer Beer Festival a New York, Gary "Chicken" ebbe la grande idea di cambiare l'urlo iniziale da "FISH" in "FUCK" per la prima volta quella sera! Lo facemmo. E il pubblico apprezzò. Fummo buttati fuori dal festival a vita e addirittura pagati per non comparire all'Ed Sullivan show, che ci aveva pagato in anticipo per prendere parte al programma. Ci dissero "tenetevi i soldi ma non comparirete mai nell'Ed Sullivan show".
(Country Joe, dal sito ufficiale)