¡Singles de The Smiths!

¿Se acuerda usted, ay manchesteriana lectora, oh rockero lector, de Singles, el maravillosísimo disco con el que el mundo nos arropó en 1995 (además del Different class de Pulp, pues?). Es una recopilación indispensable de los singles de The Smiths, una de las mejores bandas de rock que nadie podría encontrar en los últimos 30 años, y el primer hogar de nuestro queridísimo Morrissey, quien es tan cool que, cuando pongas cool en el diccionario, tendrías que poner una foto del Moz a un lado. Esta tarde hice limpieza en casa y escuché tres o cuatro veces el disco con el shuffle de mi grabadora. Y ha sido fantástico:

Shyness is nice and shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life you'd like to. So, if there's something you'd like to try, if there's something you'd like to try, ask me, I won't say no: how could I? Spending warm Summer days indoors, writing frightening verse to a bucktoothed girl in Luxembourg: ask me, ask me, ask me, ask me, ask me, ask me because if it's not Love, then it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb that will bring us together

Girlfriend in a coma: I know, I know - it’s serious, it’s really serious. There were times when I could have “strangled” her... but, you know: I would hate anything to happen to her. Would you please let me see her! Do you really think she pull through...?

I started something, I forced you to a zone and you were clearly never meant to go. Hair brushed and parted: typical me, typical me, typical me... I started something... and now I'm not too sure.

Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me. No hope, but no harm: just another false alarm. So, tell me how long before the last one? And tell me how long before the right one ? The story is old – I know, But it goes on… Ah, goes on…

I am the son and the heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar, I am the son and the heir of nothing in particular... You shut your mouth, how can you say I go about things the wrong way? I am Human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does.

Is it wrong not to always be glad? No, it's not wrong - but I must add: how can someone so young sing words so sad? Sheila takes a, Sheila takes a bow, oot the grime of this world in the crotch, dear, and don't go home tonight: come out and find the one that you love and who loves you, the one that you love and who loves you...

Hand in glove, the sun shines out of our behinds... No, it's not like any other love: this one is different - because it's us...

Oh, the devil will find work for idle hands to do. I stole, and then I lied just because you asked me to. But now you know the truth about me, you won't see me anymore... Well, I'm still fond of you. So, what difference does it make? Oh, what difference does it make? Oh, it makes none: but now you have gone and your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight!

I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour, but heaven knows I'm miserable now. I was looking for a job, and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now. What she asked of me at the end of the day, Caligula would have blushed. “You've been in the house too long”, she said, and I (naturally) fled. In my life, why do I smile at people who I'd much rather kick in the eye?

(NATURE IS A LANGUAGE - CAN'T YOU READ?)