The 1970s: counterculture, music, peace & struggle |
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Jacob Schoolcraft
Forum Senior Member Joined: December 22 2021 Location: NJ Status: Offline Points: 1113 |
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So...it wasnt in the German musicians best interest to sing in their own language? Huh? Why? Because of success?
I found a lot of singing in the 70s to be questionable..but I assume that wasn't important to anyone of consequence. I thought Robert Plant was a lousy singer and I found it repulsive that a record executive or a manager would want you to sing like him. The music business in America was all about being commercial and or having a pretty face. Chi Coltrane had a pretty face and she turned her back on their demands. Years later she became a fan of Dream Theater 😃 In America the music business is a joke. |
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David_D
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 26 2010 Location: Copenhagen Status: Online Points: 15267 |
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Yes, I think, it was quite typical that The New Left was organized besides the traditional left-wing parties. For instance in Denmark, it was not least in form of a new party, Venstresocialisterne (Leftsocialists), which was formed by some former, prominent members of the more traditional Socialistisk Folkeparti (Socialist People Party). Venstresocialisterne was much more radical than SF, and revolutionary, while SF's socialism strategy was based on reforms. Btw, I became myself a member of Venstresocialisterne in early '80s. |
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quality over quantity, and all kind of PopcoRn almost beyond
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David_D
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 26 2010 Location: Copenhagen Status: Online Points: 15267 |
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I reckon that not so few leftists were influenced by the hippies, but basically, the hippies and the political left-wing had rather different strategies for new society / better world. The hippies saw the changes not least to happen within the mind of individuals, or at most creating a counter-society in the midst of the current system, for instance in form of independent small communities like Christiania - even I think, that was as far as it could get; while for the left-wing, it was definitely about changing the organization of the whole society and especially the economic system.
Edited by David_D - December 20 2024 at 12:18 |
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quality over quantity, and all kind of PopcoRn almost beyond
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Atavachron
Special Collaborator Honorary Collaborator Joined: September 30 2006 Location: Pearland Status: Offline Points: 65310 |
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Great time on the U.S. West coast. Somehow everyone assumed it would remain that way forevermore-- rock, drugs, culture, and fun in the sun.
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"Too often we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought." -- John F. Kennedy
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jamesbaldwin
Prog Reviewer Joined: September 25 2015 Location: Milano Status: Offline Points: 6034 |
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In 1972, when anarchists in Italy were still being blamed for the Milan bombing in 1969 (but it was a fascist bomb!), and when Commissioner Calabresi (who had arrested two of them, completely innocent), was killed by some armed militants, Francesco Guccini published this song that recalls a true story: an anarchist train driver hurling a locomotive at a train for rich people in the early 20th century. Crowds of left-wing demonstrators sing the song in chorus with clenched fists, shouting TRIUMPH THE PROLETARY JUSTICE! These lyrics became a cult. THE LOCOMOTIVE I don't know what face he had, not even what his name was, with what voice he spoke, with what voice he sang, how old he was then, what colour his hair was, but in my imagination I have the image of him: heroes are all young and handsome, heroes are all young and handsome heroes are all young and handsome... But I know the time of events, what his trade was: the early years of the century, engineer, railwayman, the days when the holy war of the beggars was beginning the train also seemed a myth of progress launched over the continents, hurled over the continents, hurled over the continents... And the locomotive seemed to be a strange monster that man mastered with thought and hand: roaring it left behind distances that seemed endless, it seemed to have within it a tremendous power, the same force as dynamite, the same force as dynamite, the same force as dynamite... But another great force was then spreading its wings, But another great force was then spreading its wings, words that said ‘all men are equal’ And against kings and tyrants burst in the street the proletarian bomb and lit up the air the torch of anarchy, the torch of anarchy, the torch of anarchy! A train every day passed through its station, a luxury train, a distant destination: he saw revered people, he thought of those velvets, the golds, thought of the meagre day of its people around, thought a train full of gentlemen, thought a train full of gentlemen, he thought of a train full of gentlemen... I don't know what happened, why he made the decision, perhaps an ancient rage, nameless generations that screamed revenge, blinded his heart: he forgot pity, he forgot his goodness, his bomb his steam engine, his bomb his steam engine, his bomb his steam engine.... And on the track stood the locomotive, the pulsing machine seemed to be a living thing, it looked like a young colt that as soon as it released the brake biting the rail with muscles of steel, with blind force of flash, with blind force of flash, with the blind force of a flash... And one day like the others, but perhaps with more rage in his body he thought he had a way to right some wrong. He climbed onto the sleeping monster, tried to push away his fear and before he thought about what he was going to do, the monster devoured the plain, the monster devoured the plain, the monster devoured the plain... The other train ran unaware and almost in no hurry, no one imagined they were heading for revenge, but at the Bologna station the news came in a flash: ‘emergency news, act urgently, a madman has thrown himself against the train, a madman has thrown himself against the train, a madman has thrown himself against the train...’ But meanwhile it runs, runs, runs the locomotive and hisses steam and seems almost a living thing And seems to say to the bent peasants the whistle that spreads through the air: ‘Brother, dont fear, I run to my duty! Let proletarian justice triumph! Let proletarian justice triumph! Let Proletarian justice triumph!’ And in the meantime he runs and runs and runs And he runs and runs and runs towards death And nothing now can hold back the immense destructive force, It waits only for the crash and then for the mantle Of the great comforter Of the great comforter of the great comforter... History tells us how the race ended The locomotive diverted along a dead line... With its last animal cry the car erupted lapilli and lava, exploded against the sky, then the smoke scattered the veil: they picked him up who was still breathing, they picked him up who was still breathing, they gathered him who was still breathing.... But we like to think of him still behind the engine as he runs the steam engine away And that one day more news will reach us of a locomotive, like a living thing, bombarded against injustice, bombarded with injustice, bombarded with injustice! Live version: (on the bass: Ares Tavolazzi, Area's bassist) Edited by jamesbaldwin - December 22 2024 at 17:01 |
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Amos Goldberg (professor of Genocide Studies at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem): Yes, it's genocide. It's so difficult and painful to admit it, but we can no longer avoid this conclusion.
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David_D
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 26 2010 Location: Copenhagen Status: Online Points: 15267 |
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A very fine song reflecting The New Left was by the African Osibisa - "Think about the People", on their debut album (1971), and an excerpt of the lyrics says: Now stop for a moment Think about the world Think about the people Think about their lives Stop for a moment Think about the system Think about your children Think about the whole wide world! Think about deception Think about pollution Think about radiation Think about destruction Think about revolution Think about a revelation Think about a solution Or think about a whole wide world! RIGHT NOW! |
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quality over quantity, and all kind of PopcoRn almost beyond
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