"Speakdown" is a 50 minutes piece of music divided into 3 movements describing the violence we suffer everyday. Capitalism is the reason of our suffering.
FUCK THE STYLE
Hello, it’s me
We are greedy
eyes full of space
for contaminated things
by a conspicuous uselessness
we never waste time
in front of novelties
damned and assholes
the hand that opens
to contain the updated nothingness
Please update
Come on come on come on I must have it
Our brain makes a bad noise
far from what is beautiful
And now we are full of stress
And we are really ugly
awful!
That’s it!
We got into it years ago
without knowing it, as always ignorant.
We started swimming in a different way.
Fuck the style, we thought it was just for a while.
We all drowned in it.
The game that flattened everything and everyone
Eyes steady, hands quivering on the keys,
the sharp mouth that lives only there
typing, watch as a lawful spy, fuck with Skype,
buy, real friends are on the screen...
living like this is better than a dream...
All in your laptop, why do you need to get out?
Better lock yourself in your room
the new kingdom where everything is yours
Never turn it off, sleep with it
Feel that beautiful beat
Surf the internet
Where everything is clear and clean...
Fuck the style!
Hello, it’s me!
We are gravestones!
Like lifeless wet tongues
we search for taste
We are gravestones!
turn on the computer and everything will be in your mouth.
We are gravestones
Bruises
Asocial
Sublimated by madness
We are gravestones
streets full of disasters and waste
We are gravestones
From pc to streets
We remain a bulky void
We are gravestones
We lost time
filling our breaths with things
we will not arrive
to hold dreams in our hands
that are made of plastic and dust
Just think for a moment
None of us remember the past
We live in the present
between the fog and the rain
that expands the black sky
and what remains
is a list of beasts
We got into it years ago
without knowing it, as always ignorant.
We started swimming in a different way.
Fuck the style, we thought it was just for a while.
We all drowned in it.
The game that flattened everything and everyone
Eyes steady, hands quivering on the keys,
the sharp mouth that lives only there
typing, watch as a lawful spy, fuck with Skype,
buy, real friends are on the screen...
living like this is better than a dream...
All in your laptop, why do you need to get out?
Better lock yourself in your room
the new kingdom where everything is yours
Never turn it off, sleep with it
Feel that beautiful beat
Surf the internet
Where everything is clear and clean...
We are greedy
eyes full of space
for contaminated things
by a conspicuous uselessness
we never waste time
in front of novelties
damned and assholes
the hand that opens
to contain the updated nothingness
Please update
Come on come on come on I must have it
Our brain makes a bad noise
far from what is beautiful
And now we are full of stress
And we are really ugly
awful!
That’s it!
Hello, it’s me, again!
UNDERSTRESS
I slow down
like a drunken comet
where everything is brown
I can't believe that
I cannot feel joy
where everything is consumed
I can't really play
The good rules have been erased
Like worms without restraint
we eat the slime, smiling
we know we are not saints
We're screwed, we're already dying
We are the nightmare of the next womb...
You wanted us to feel beautiful
healthy
filled with a shiny everything
rather be ashamed
we are language without accent
flattened
in this total mess
constantly under stress
black nails
dirty breath
without course or map
Take a nap
and dream of a better world
cause our mind is a drill
full of holes
like perfect assholes...
Stray and crooked steps
they have no choice but break the low
With their pockets full of dust
coins lost and turned into cards
but only for others...
Turn, you turn, turn in the hiding place those banknotes and their rustling.
That rustling was poetry anyway.
Michael has had his feet in the mud for days
and very soon it will be years
his clothes baked by the sun.
Turn on your laptop
Bring your flame lost in the nothingness
you have to drown
The roar of the sky embraces Michael,
another loser turned into an angel.
With rage you don't see the end of the month, and in this crude story we both die. With open mouth...
Innocence drips in the glass.
Opaque glass pane
finished straight into your vein
these are the hours, sick and convulsive,
inside you who are so expansive.
There is no more distance
an infinite whole that bleeds
the years like invisible needles
trembling dreams that have surrendered
and everything has expanded.
We are glue without adherence
with the internet we have the right distance
we throw everything away
we don't walk in the streets
this is the measure of the day
call the void, forget the keys
and be as vile as your bile
We are distant, like parallel bullets
we still have so many things to do wrong
we are the list that touches the sky
we are oil that burns ideas
decadent lives lost in a song
without shame we should fly
It would be nice to sink
in the same error
To be equal only in pain
We are apnoea cavities
We are apnoea cavities
We should be condemned to creation
to improvisation
not to stand with our minds in our hands
but to go outside
that in doing things we find pride
we are all full of genius without knowing it
take things and do, you do things and understand
no road has the right sign
If we could be a shooting star
with only one day to live
or the dew that swims in the rain
we would not spend the time
putting things on things
in our houses
We would be a gentle and subtle soul
vibrating in a mighty bow
excited in a generous flight
with little seeds inside
Lyrics by Alex De0atteis
Music by Flavio Ferri
Alex De0atteis :voice in "fuck the style" and "understress"
Marla the Machine: voice in "daily snapshot n.1" and "fuck the style"
Recorded mixed and mastered by Flavio Ferri @ FF recordings Barcelona in September 2021.