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Guitar Noir

octopus92

4/5

“Premier vrai album studio rock de Steve publié depuis 10 ans.

Alternant compositions acoustiques avec le claviériste Aron Friedman et compositions rock plus musclées, un bon opus surtout dans la réédition de Camino qui a changé l’ordre des morceaux (et l’excellente idée de débuter par le superbe instrumental “Sierra Quemada).

Le chant de Steve, point faible de ses albums rock, trouve ici enfin un dosage subtil entre fragilité et rudesse.

Un retour à des ambitions évidentes (l’amusant “Vampyre with a healthy appetite”) après, soyons honnêtes, plusieures errances de style (appartées acoustiques mises à part)”.

WhiteWinter

5/5

“Le grand retour de Steve en studio, après de loooooongues années d’absence. Curieusement, je n’accroche, comme pour [i]Till we have faces[/i] pas du tout non plus au “nouvel” ordre des chansons, mais ça n’entâche en rien l’amour que je porte à cet album.

Il faut dire que j’ai été nourri à l’ancien ordre, celui qui séparait les chansons acoustiques des électriques, ce qui donnait selon moi plus de relief à cet album… Parmi les premières, chacune est une perle, que ce soit “Take these pearls”, “Tristesse”, le plus fouillé “Dark as the grave” et surtout la merveilleuse “There are many sides to the night”, réellement poignante. Pour ces chansons, Steve s’accompagne de cordes, par lui-même ou par Aron Friedman. Et surtout, il chante enfin des choses qui lui vont, qui sont de son registre, et sait se faire sensible en même temps (“Paint your picture” entre autres). A noter que malgré le côté acoustique de ces chansons, elles contiennent des parties de guitare électrique.

La partie électrique est moins dense (sauf pour “In the heart of the city”), mais on en retient quand même des très bonnes chansons comme “Lost in your eyes” et “Little America” qui annoncent l’album à venir.

A mon goût un de ses tout meilleurs albums.”

Tracklist

(instrumental)

Take these pearls from an oyster shell
From the depths of the ocean bed
From the bottom of the sea
Like a wishing well

Take these stones fashioned into jewels
Like the essence of a half remembered song
From the crust of the earth
To the limits of the sky

Take these stones fashioned into jewels
Like the essence of a half remembered song
From the crust of the earth
To the limits of the sky


Standing under the lamplight
In one of the nicer parts of hell
Behold this dreamer with rich red ruby lips
Some pay for the privilege
And some just pay to talk
Because there are many sides to the night

When Father Thames lies sleeping
His ever watchful sons
Divide up the spoils of the day’s takings
A woman’s work is never ever done
She’s a child a slave a teacher and a fool
And then she vanishes from sight
Did no one ever tell you
There are many sides to the night

Standing under the lamplight
Selling perfume sweetcorn and lace
She looks beautiful from a distance
But it’s too dark to see her face
I do it for my child alone
And who would say it’s just not right
Verily I say unto you
There are many sides to the night

Standard bearers march to the tick of the clock
It’s a war against time when you’re fronting the flock
Determined resolute defiant strong
Noble and Savage know they belong

In the heart of the city
In the heart of the city

The battlefield of love a ruffled feather bed
From fluid moist lips the benediction’s said
You love them you leave them with yesterday’s guilt
Everything’s on schedule in the empire that you built

In the heart of the city
In the heart of the city

In the heart of the city
In the heart of the city

You close a deal Thursday at 7:45
The train home is empty you’re the only man alive
You throw away your clothes in a house of clouds
The window is sealed the furniture in shrouds

In the heart of the city
In the heart of the city
In the heart of the city
In the heart of the city


Dark as night dark as the grave
Dark wherein my friend is laid
Sleepwalkers fill the boulevards
Pretty girls and backward boys
All the voices can be heard
An opera of the absurd

Dark as night dark as the grave
Dark wherein my friend is laid
We welcome you we welcome you
The world of chaos far away
As the crowd of mourners said
Tragedy is nothing new

Dark as night

Dark as night dark as the grave
Dark wherein my friend is laid

I see the valleys
I see the streams
I see the mountains and what’s in between
I hear thunder fall from the sky
I see a world
Lost in your eyes

In my dreams
I see you smile
I feel the sun I want to stay for a while
I hear music just makes me cry
I see a world
Lost in your eyes

A one horse town
A dirt road
Way in the desert where the cactus’ grow
I hear you calling my name mile after mile
I see a world
Lost in your eyes

With Lana Turner on the screen beside me
The frame is hardly filled by Orson Wells
We switch into a Fred and Ginger number
That they’re dancing oh so well

Blowing the blues all night
I thought I heard someone say
Stars never fade
And everyone’s dying to play

In Little America
In Little America
In Little America

We got a chinese Elvis painted by Norman Rockwell
His part will be played by Richard Pryor
The Mason Dixon line divides
The free from all the rest so you can sell

Oklahoma
To Cinderella
From Long Island
And everyone’s dying to play

In Little America
In Little America
In Little America

Lower your standards raise your prices
On cable TV
Pretty woman seen at the death of a salesman
All covered with cream

In Little America
In Little America

In Little America
In Little America

In Little America
In Little America

Like an arrow in the night
Like an arrow by the day

Like an arrow in the night
Like an arrow by the day

Come away from your bed at night
Leave all those empty halls behind
Have no fear of death
Have no fear of life
The taste of victory ahead
The spirit never dies

Like an arrow in the night
Like an arrow by the day

A mission bell by the ghostly station
Tolling in the wind
The veins in your hand
Stretch like broken trees of winter

The last call the last port of entry

Like an arrow in the night
Like an arrow by the day

Like an arrow in the night
Like an arrow by the day

In the theatre of sleep
Where no reason remains
Dreamers and drifters
Make their entrance onto the stage
Non-stop scenery changes
With promptings in the dark
Trapped in unremitting violence
As trees stripped of their bark
When they’re buried in your dream
The past is a foreign country
They do things differently there
You’re back in the old schoolhouse
With rows and rows of chairs
Well it might be war or Christmas
With the tanks and guns and flares
Or a witch that wields her broomstick
The stars of your nightmare
When they’re buried in your dream
I was trapped on the edge of a waterfall
In an old riverboat
A proud queen washed up at last
She’s giving up the ghost
Slimy green water rising
I knew that I would die
I had no time to abandon ship
The morning had arrived

I’d like to paint your beauty
All over the world
I’d like to paint your sadness
I’d like to paint your picture

As New Orleans slips far away
When the gas lights dim and the street cars fade
When the beast within takes on a new shape
The blood runs cold make no mistake

You’re just a vampyre with a healthy appetite
And you stay awake half the night

A band strikes up an they’re starting to play
When the sirens wail but they’re way too late
The crowds don’t see they’re drunk anyway
The inquest said it was coming her way

You’re just a vampyre with a healthy appetite
And you stay awake half the night

Well you ran to ground as you always do
And then they finally caught up with you
Well they sent you down and Old Smokey was waiting but pressure groups being what they are these days you were released after five years at a funny farm in upstate New York to walk the streets once more

(instrumental)

Infos générales

Sorti en 1993

Steve Hackett : guitares, chant, harmonica
Aron Friedman : claviers
Julian Colbeck : claviers
Billy Budis : claviers
Dave Taif Ball : basse
Hugo Degenhardt : batterie
Bimbo Acock : clarinette (9)

Produit par Steve Hackett, avec Aron Friedman et Billy Budis