"Mineros, obreros, en la calle, golpes, mensajes medievales... un giro político social que ahora se está consumando, como terminando el trabajo...
And our youth, oh youth, are being seduced
by the greedy hands of politics and half truths... The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Open your eyes, open your imagination..."
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Matt Johnson, THE THE, desarrolló la mayor parte de su carrera artística en medio del huracán de Margaret Thatcher, en medio de la tormenta. Paro, miseria, revueltas obreras y, por supuesto, la omnipresente represión policial. Mineros, obreros, en la calle, golpes, mensajes medievales... un giro político social que ahora se está consumando, como terminando el trabajo. En la canción 'Heartland' explica todo aquello, cómo lo que era su país, Inglaterra, estaba pasando a ser una simple colonia de los Estados Unidos. y cómo los pensionistas, la juventud y los parados ya empezaban a estorbar, eran material sobrante.
La canción que rescatamos ahora tiene un título (qué curioso lo del eterno retorno, no sé por qué lo llaman retorno si, en realidad, nunca se ha ido), 'The Beat(en) Generation', que tristemente evoca desde el pasado esa expresión que se ha instalado en nuestras vidas, en las vidas de nuestros jóvenes, esas malditas palabras que anuncian 'la generación perdida, la generación estafada', nuestros chicos, nuestros hijos, lo que somos.
Nos negamos a creer que ninguna generación pueda llevar a cuestas ese estigma siniestro a sus espaldas. Pero, al mismo tiempo, sí buscamos las encrucijadas, los caminos cruzados, que el tiempo, paciente, nos muestra, para que abramos los ojos.
LETRA:
When you cast your eyes upon the skylines
Of this once proud nation
Can you sense the fear and the hatred
Growing in the hearts of its population
And our youth, oh youth, are being seduced
by the greedy hands of politics and half truths
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Reared on a diet of prejudice and mis-information
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Open your eyes, open your imagination
We're being sedated by the gasoline fumes
and hypnotised by the satellites
Into believing what is good and what is right
You may be worshipping the temples of mammon
Or lost in the prisons of religion
But can you still walk back to happiness
When you've nowhere left to run?
Andif they send in the special police
To deliver us from liberty and keep us from peace
Then won't the words sit ill upon their tongues
when they tell us justice is being done
and that freedom lives in the barrels of a warm gun
INFECTED
Of this once proud nation
Can you sense the fear and the hatred
Growing in the hearts of its population
And our youth, oh youth, are being seduced
by the greedy hands of politics and half truths
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Reared on a diet of prejudice and mis-information
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Open your eyes, open your imagination
We're being sedated by the gasoline fumes
and hypnotised by the satellites
Into believing what is good and what is right
You may be worshipping the temples of mammon
Or lost in the prisons of religion
But can you still walk back to happiness
When you've nowhere left to run?
Andif they send in the special police
To deliver us from liberty and keep us from peace
Then won't the words sit ill upon their tongues
when they tell us justice is being done
and that freedom lives in the barrels of a warm gun
ENTRADAS RELACIONADAS:
("All the bankers gettin sweaty, beneath their white collars...
Esta es la tierra donde los pensionistas son violados...")
("Nos han cebado con información inútil...
I've been deformed by emotional scars... Another year older & what have I done -
My aspirations have shriveled in the sun... I
'm crippled by guilt, blinded by science -
I've been waiting for tomorrow - all of my life.... My mind has been polluted & my energy diluted)