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| M.C.D. (source) |
M.C.D., acronym for Me Cago en Dios (I Crap on God), maybe the most common swear phrase in European Spanish. According to some the best band ever produced by this city of Bilbao, certainly in the category of Punk rock and certainly if we consider the city in the restricted sense of municipality.
Not much to say about M.C.D. other than they created great hymns that truly reflected the way we perceived (and still perceive) the world around us. They were there in 1983 and they were there in 2005, when they finally retired, being probably the longest living Punk band in this part of the world.
We can beging with Barrenkalle.
Barrenkale (the inner street in Basque), often mispronounced Barrenkalle because of Spanish influence, is one of the seven streets of Old Bilbao and used to be the core of all weekends in the 1980s (and still is up to a point).
Lyrics (original in Spanish)
In the Street of Barrenkalle you are:
in the same sidewalk, in the same pub,
you have become an idiot of so much waiting
a change in luck that will not come...
in Barrenkalle your head will explode!
Your existence to nobody matters anymore
with money in my pocket I can still enjoy you
Barrenkalle is like a second home,
drinking buddies for sure you will have:
where you left them, you will find them.
In Barrenkalle your head will explode! (repeat)
When going out to drink every night, enjoying until you fall,
you watch the jars of beer little by little vanish
and those faces that look at you and don't know how to see
how many times you end fighting and how many others you have to run away
in Barrenkalle someone will break your face.
It is part of your life: seven streets, seven corners!
Barrenkalle, its sidewalks, its taverns, its fights.
At five in the morning you have no budget left,
they don't give you any more credit, you have nowhere to fall dead.
In Barrenkalle your head will explode! (repeat)
Another epic theme is Gernika:
Lyrics (original in Spanish):
Workers are rotting away in the "promotion funds" [endless relocation queues]
greasy blue overalls sinking in the Nervión.
The unemployment card you brought to renew
while they look for your passivity.
Gernika will burn again!
Gernika berriro sutan! [same sentence in Basque]
The beatings in two languages by the repression corps
don't influence your old men: they only watch TV.
AIDS or heroin are no solution
and a Spain united and free [Fascist motto], where did I heard that song?
A new Condor Legion will fall on us again.
Lying to the people, lying as yesterday,
history repeats itself: Gernika will burn again.
Gernika will burn again!
Gernika berriro sutan!
Gernika will be born again!
Another super-theme: No more dead punkies!
Lyrics (original in Spanish)
No more, no more dead punkies!
How many years have you been hanged from chains?,
how long that your splendor ended?
All those nights full of bear,
fights and body searches.
The time has come not to stay behind
or at any time they will laugh of you.
No more dead punkies!
Dead punkies no!
Colored hairs, riveted jackets,
inside your ball the glasses are broken,
youth disorder is a frustration.
Gratuitous violence: the first reaction.
The time has come not to stay behind
or at any time they will laugh of you.
No more dead punkies!
Dead punkies no!
And yet another mythical song: 35 million sheep!
There was a time when the standard figure of Spanish citizens everybody knew of was 35 million, and everyone (above the age of 14 or 16) had to get (and still has today) an identity card, card made by police with your picture and fingerprint, card that you have to carry compulsorily with you on risk of being fined or even arrested, and you even have to pay for it, go figure!
Lyrics (original in Spanish)
Don't look for your image in the mirror: you won't find yourself,
your face is disfigured in the identity card.
The flock is quiet, the dogs have gathered it,
meanwhile in the offices they get good indigestions.
I don't want to be portraited
I don't want to be classified
I don't want to be plastified
No!
You are not person, you are not human:
you are an identity card.
35 million sheep filed in the General Direction [of Security = Police central offices].
I could go on and on, epic theme after epic theme but that would be abusive, excessive for this space. But to close this post, maybe we can include Viva Zapata! as closing theme:
Lyrics:
When the horse of General Emiliano Zapata left us carrying his mere spirit, it left a path that now is followed by brave women and men with a heart.
Here we are, the dead ones of always joining forces to live.
Fight continues, Zapata lives! Here he will be never forgotten... ever!
Let the World know: centuries of oppression!
It will be the time of freedom!
Viva Zapata, cabrones! (repeat)
Previously in this series:
There is much, much more however.
Whoever wrote this article should stop referring to them as Spanish Punk. You can't call someone basque a spaniard, that is a guaranteed bar fight! Or enough ignorance to have the ETA light a car bomb on if at your doorstep! I'm basque, and I get pissed when people call me Spanish!
ReplyDeleteNowhere in the article says "Spanish Punk" nor anything like that. I would NEVER said such thing (I'm also Basque and send killer waves when I heard "Spain" or "Spanish"), what I said is that they sung in Spanish (language) - what is correct as far as I know.
ReplyDeleteArgi al dago, Skitters?