livret Idol Blue Camus Ben Sidran.indd

B LU E CA M U S
BEN SIDR AN
BEN SIDRAN
P I A N O, W U R L I T Z E R P I A N O A N D V O C A L
LEO SIDRAN
DRUMS
RICKY PETERSON
HAMMOND ORGAN
B I L LY P E T E R S O N
BASS
WITH
BOB ROCKWELL
SAXOPHONE
T R I X I E WAT E R B E D
B AC KG R O U N D V O C A L S
SOSO’S DREAM
L. SIDRAN, B. SIDRAN, R. PETERSON, B. PETERSON
Fo r S ol Pa r k er
BLUE CAMUS
L. SIDRAN, B. SIDRAN, R. PETERSON, B. PETERSON
I n s p i red by Al ber t Camu s’ The Stranger
Down on the d’Orsay side
Je peux pas voir
Where the river’s just a muddy slide
Je peux pas sentir
There’s a little slipaway
It’s all so dark
Where the Algerian hides
But it’s all so clear:
Un homme du midi
Un homme détruit
If you don’t say what you want
Un homme de la vie
Want what you say
C’est tout c’est fini
You just hanging in the cut
Say you won’t live your life
Between avant and passe
If you spend your life searching for the key
It’s just a passage in the shadows
To the other guy
Between what’s wrong and what’s right
You’re the other guy
Where it gets so dark
To the stranger
You can’t even see the light
La lumière la lumière
You’re the stranger
You’ll never do tomorrow
What you won’t do today
It gets so dark
Enough is never enough
You can’t even see the light
When time is slipsliding away
And there’s a dance that you can do
Je peux pas voir
Between the day and the night
Je peux pas sentir
Un homme du midi
It’s all so dark
Un homme détruit
But it’s all so clear:
Un homme de la vie
C’est tout c’est fini
To the other guy
Say you won’t live your life
you are the other guy
If you spend your life looking for the key
To the stranger
If you spend your life looking for the way
you’re the stranger
3. “A” I S F O R A L L I G A T O R
L. SIDRAN, B. SIDRAN
I n s pire d by G e org e Or we l l ’s Animal Farm
Maybe there’s a way to let the alligator play inside the bathtub
Maybe there’s a way that we can play inside the bathtub too
Maybe there’s a song that you and I can sing along about the bathtub
But if there is it’s just a song about the day that we were alligator stew
Once there was a time when all the animals would climb inside the bathtub
The monkey and the lion and the zebra and the alligator too
Once there was a game that all the animals would play inside the bathtub
But now the only game we play is you eat me or baby I’ll eat you
Maybe that’s the reason people finally had to build themselves a zoo
They call it New York City but it’s just another alligator stew
Now you and I are alligators too
4. T H E K I N G O F H A R L E M
B. SIDRAN
I nspi red by Feder ico G a rc i a Lo rc a’s Poet in New York
The rhythm of New York,
Charleston, Charleston
Now that’s what he was talking about
The beating heart of New York
The street of New York
That’s what he was talking about
The beat in the street of New York
The New York Charleston
Like the heat in New York
That wounded pulse at the
In the bathhouses, in the backrooms
Heart of New York
In the chicken joints and the cotton clubs
That’s what he was talking about
Beneath the buildings, behind the bridges
Throbbing, throbbing
Beneath the smoke and the moon
Beneath the howling moon
Beneath the beneath
Where the King of Harlem liked to play it
But tunneling up
On a wooden spoon
Tunneling up
Up from the streets
From the dry feet of New York
Up from the feets
The beat of New York
Where that great arsenic lobster
Now that’s what he was talking about
Finally learned how to fly
Pena negra,
And now the moon is just
That tortured thing
A slice of radiance divine
At the heart of the thing
Up in the sky
Deep beneath the thing
That’s what he was talking about
But rising
That’s what he was talking about
Rising
Like the Charleston
Go tell Dali go tell Buñuel
Go tell the millionaires it’s time to sell
And the word was rising, rising
The final foot
That’s what he was talking about
Is on the stairs
Now that’s what he was talking about
It’s time to drink the silver whisky
Throw the glass into the brine
Go tell Dali go tell Buñuel
‘Cause it’s time,
Go tell the millionaires it’s time to sell
The final foot
It’s time, it’s time, it’s time in New York
It’s on the stairs
You got no time?
The spire of smoke is in the air
Baby you got nothing but time
You’re hushed by time, crushed by time
El mascaron! El mascaron!
Now that’s what he was talking about
Mirad el mascaron
Pena negra
From Africa to the backrooms and backstairs
That tortured thing
Of cotton clubs and chicken joints
At the heart of the thing
In the moment of dry things
Deep beneath the thing
And dead things
But rising, rising
The beat of New York
From bathhouses and backrooms
Like refugees they arrived on broken ships
And departed with little more than their wits
Ay! Dios mio!
A broken moon
No retreat in New York
A broken moon
From the heat in New York
Howling! Howling!
Relentless
El mascaron, el mascaron
Relentlessly
A wounded pulse
Without mercy
A broken tune
Across wired bridges
Now that’s what he was talking about
Above sky scrapers
Un milagro!
Assesinado por el cielo
5. R O C K Y ’ S R O M A N C E
L. SIDRAN, B. SIDRAN, R. PETERSON, B. PETERSON
For my fr i e nd R oc k y
6. W A K E M E W H E N I T ’ S O V E R
L. SIDRAN, B. SIDRAN, R. PETERSON, B. PETERSON
I ns pire d by Le wi s Ca r roll ’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
and its unc anny foreshadowing of the Amer ican Tea Par t y
Wake me when it’s over
Hold someone hostage
Tell me when it’s real
Make somebody pay...
Shake me when we get there
When they finally do the deal
Wake me when it’s over
When the circus leaves this town
Wake me when it’s over
When the lions ate the tamer
Tell me when it’s done
And then they finished with these clowns
When they finally voted
You can let me know who won
Maybe I’m right
Maybe I’m wrong
Maybe I’m right
But too many people
Maybe I’m wrong
Just won’t get along
But too many people
Got nothing to say
Just won’t get along
But saying it louder and louder and louder
Got nothing to say
And every day
But saying it louder and louder and louder
Hold someone hostage
And every day
Make somebody pay...
Man, I’d pay them myself if they would just pack it up or back it up,
You know, lead, follow or get out of the way.
Because some times, good things can happen to bad people,
But man, bad people happen to good people every day.
You dig? I knew that you could.
7. T H E R E U S E D T O B E B E E S
L. SIDRAN, B. SIDRAN, R. PETERSON, B. PETERSON
I nspired by M ic ha el Pollan’s The Botany of Desir e
8. D E E ’ S D I L E M M A
M. WALDRON
For J a c k ie M c Lea n
www.bensidran.com
Recorded by Mark Whitcomb at DNA Music Labs, Madison; Steve Weiss & Miles Hanson at Creation
Audio, Minneapolis; Hector Coulon at Unlimited Media and Let Em In Studios, Brooklyn; Josh Tampico at
Serendipity Studio, Madrid and by Radio France at the Sunset Jazz Club, Paris (November 9, 2013) Mixed by
Leo Sidran at Studio de Meudon, Paris
Photograph by Pierre Darmon. Design by Planet Propaganda.
All songs © Bulldog Music, ASCAP except “Dees Dilemma” © Prestige Music Co., BMI