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Hard Times

Baby Huey & The Babysitters
Lingua: Inglese


Baby Huey & The Babysitters

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Strange Fruit
(Billie Holiday)
L’emigrant
(Taissine)
Come Sunday
(Duke Ellington)


[1971]
Una canzone scritta da Curtis Mayfield, mèntore di questa straordinaria band di Gary, Indiana, morta ancor prima di nascere per via della scomparsa prematura del suo front man James Thomas Ramey, Baby Huey, "180 kg di puro soul", morto per sovrappeso e per droga nel 1970, alla vigilia dell'uscita del loro primo ed unico LP, "The Baby Huey Story - The Living Legend" (1971)



Curtis Mayfield la incise solo nel 1975, nel suo bellissimo "(There's No Place Like) America Today"

The Baby Huey Story - The Living Legend (There's No Place Like) America Today


La canzone parla di un tema ancora attuale, la condizione della popolazione nera americana, di come già allora fosse diffusa la disillusione rispetto alle presunte conquiste del movimento per i diritti civili, mentre i leader afroamericani cadevano uno dopo l'altro ammazzati e le condizioni delle comunità in tutti gli USA non miglioravano affatto, anzi... Oggi non pare che la situazione sia cambiata in meglio di molto...
Cold, cold eyes upon me they stare
People all around me and they’re all in fear
They don’t seem to want me but they won’t admit
I must be some kind of creature up here having fits

From my bawdyhouse, I’m afraid to come outside
Although I’m filled with love I’m afraid they’ll hurt my pride
So I play the part I feel they want of me
And I pull the shades so I won’t see them seein’ me

Havin’ hard times in this crazy town
Havin’ hard times, there’s no love to be found
Havin’ hard times, in this crazy town
Havin’ hard times, there’s no love to be found

From my bawdyhouse I feel like meetin’ others
Familiar faces, creed and race, a brother
But to my surprise I find a man corrupt
Although he be my brother, he wants to hold me up

Havin’ hard times in this crazy town
Havin’ hard times, there’s no love to be found
Havin’ hard times, in this crazy town
Havin’ hard times, there’s no love to be found

So many hard times…
Sleepin’ on motel floors
Knockin’ on my brother’s door
Eatin’ Spam and Oreos and drinkin’ Thunderbird baby

(Wail) In this crazy town
Havin’ hard times, there’s no love to be found
Havin’ hard times, in this crazy town
Havin’ hard times, there’s no love to be found

I’m sick and tired
I’m sick and tired of payin’ dues baby
And I’m sick and tired of havin’ so many hard, hard times baby
And from my party house, from my party house...

inviata da Bernart Bartleby - 21/6/2020 - 23:09


A Lorè, e che mi dici di questa?!?

B.B. - 21/6/2020 - 23:13


molto bella. Leggo su wikipedia una storia terribile sul batterista del gruppo.

Dennis Moore, the original drummer, killed himself after coming back from Vietnam, having lost his ability to play drums. Because he had dropped out of school to go to Paris with the band, he had lost his draft exempt status, and had been drafted.

Lorenzo - 22/6/2020 - 09:46



Lingua: Italiano

Versione di John Legend & The Roots
featuring Black Thought
dall'album Wake Up! (2010)
HARD TIMES

Yeah-yeah, ooohhhhhhhhh
So many hard times
Yea-yeahhhhhh, ooohhhhhhhhhh
Yeahhhh-yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah-yeahhhh
YEAHHHHH, yeah-yeah
YEAHHHHHHHHHH

Cold, cold eyes upon me they stare
People all around me and they're all in fear
They don't seem to want me but they won't admit
I must be some kind of creature up here having fits
From my party house, I'm afraid to come outside
Although I'm filled with love, I'm afraid they'll hurt my pride
So I play the part I feel they want of me
And I pull the shades so I won't see them seeing me

Having hard times, in this crazy town
Having hard times, there's no love to be found

Having hard times, in this crazy town
Having hard times, there's no love to be found

Yeah, yeah, yeah
In my party house I feel like meeting others
Familiar faces, creed and race, a brother
But to my surprise I find a man corrupt
Although he be my brother, he wants to hold me up

Having hard times, in this crazy town
Having hard times, there's no love to be found

Having hard times, in this crazy town
Having hard times, there's no love to be found

Check it out, seventeen years and counting
Of tryna climb up the rough side of the mountain
Friends warned me I'mma have to do it without them
No problem really, it was never about them
So my house, I never come out from
Cause every day a drought, then a shadow of doubt come
I'm down to do whatever if it betters my outcome
The city's like the Audubon Ballroom waiting on Malcolm
Cause people wanna see my blood flow like fountains
I got nowhere to go and still feel like bouncing
I'm looking for the closest window I can rap from
Or for the highest speaker-box that I can shout from
And I'm hoping to feel like something is real
But it's no hope when you are but a spoke in a wheel
A brick in a wall, tryna find an opening still
Having hard times, tryna climb over the hill

Yeah, so many hard times, yeah, yeah
Sleeping on motel floors, yeah, yeah
Knocking on my brother's door
Eating Spam, Oreos
Drinking Thunderbird baby, yeaaaaaaahhhh

Having hard times, in this crazy town
Having hard times, there's no love to be found

Having hard times, in this crazy town
Having hard times, there's no love to be found

Having hard times, in this crazy town
Having hard times, there's no love to be found

Having hard times, in this crazy town
Having hard times, there's no love to be found

Yea-yeah, yea-yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeaaaahhh, yeah
Yeah, mmmmm, yeah, yeaaah
So many hard times, yeah, yeah
Sleeping on motel floors, yeah, yeah
Knocking on my brother's door
Eating Spam and Oreos
Drinking Thunderbird baby, ohhhhhhhhh, yeah
I don't wanna do it no more
No-no-no, no-no
I don't wanna go back there no more
No-ohhhhhh
I don't wanna, I don't wanna, I don't wanna, I don't wanna..

20/9/2024 - 22:57




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