Ziggy Stardust (interprétée par Bauhaus)

Ziggy Stardust
Ziggy played guitar, jamming good with Wierd and Gilly,
And The Spiders from Mars.
He played it left hand, but made it too far,
Became the special man,
Then we were Ziggy’s Band.

Ziggy really sang, screwed up eyes and screwed down hairdo
Like some cat from Japan, he could lick ’em by smiling
He could leave ’em to hang
Here came on so loaded man, well hung and snow white tan.

So where were the spiders while the fly tried to break our balls?
Just the beer light to guide us.
So we bitched about his fans and should we crush his sweet hands?

Ziggy played for time, jiving us that we were Voodoo
The kids was just crass,
He was the naz
With God given ass
He took it all too far
But boy could he play guitar.

Making love with his ego Ziggy sucked up into his mind
Like a leper messiah
When the kids had killed the man
I had to break up the band

Ziggy played guitar

— David Bowie

Your Face (Peter Murphy)

Marilyn Monroe

Your Face
Water Lily
Freedom
Where does the
Spirit lay?
Freedom
Lying in shadows
Of light and clay

I trace your feet
Like transparent thrones
I dream of your clinging
I am not alone
I glide with you
Draw you with kole
Your paint the river
I am not alone

That lover
In the crash
That scent
Lingers now
Your face

Your face

I trace your feet
Like transparent thrones
I dream of your clinging
I am not alone
I glide with you
Draw you with kole
Your paint the river
I am not alone

Peter Murphy: le «godfather of goth» en trois temps

Peter Murphy lors d'un concert en compagnie de Trent Reznor.

Peter Murphy. Un souvenir sorti tout droit de l’adolescence, de mes années de jeune adulte rebelle et introverti pour qui toute personne âgée de plus de 30 ans était forcément suspecte. Un baryton, un crooner à la voix d’outre-tombe et à l’allure de vampire androgyne. Avec son groupe, Bauhaus, il signait la trame sonore d’une fin du monde sauvage nourrie à grandes doses de miasmes. Un cri dans la nuit d’un temps fauve.

Plus tard accompagné de son propre groupe de soutien, les Hundred Men, il chantait des textes résolument poétiques, colorés de sa plume singulière, à l’élégance féline, reconnaissable entre toutes.

Plus de 30 ans après ses débuts, Peter Murphy persiste et signe. Le godfather of goth en trois tableaux.

Stygmata Martyr
In a crucifiction ecstasy
Lying cross chequed in agony
Stigmata bleed continuously
Holes in head, hands, feet, and weep for me

Stigmata oh you sordid sight
Stigmata in your splintered plight
Look into your crimson orifice
In holy remembrance
In scarlet bliss

In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum
In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum
In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum
In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum
Father, son, and holy ghost

All Night Long
When the night is closing
Eyes are running wild
Then I hear you humming
All night long

The sign I see it
Tell me am I true
All I need from you is
All I see

This city’s paved with cold
Playboys buying fun
Seems there is no hunter left
Without his hunting gun

Can you feel the light
The air is wild open
Oh you see the light it’s coming through
It’s there in the distance
Always offered to me
Always coming over a hill

Oh your see-saw smile
Lasts me all night long
Like a siren’s curl
When the night is long

Now come hold my hand
No bad vibe hearts
Hold my hand you know
This journey could be long

Yeah the seasons come in
All the nights are woven
All the nights we’ll see them through
Ah no hundred men now
Would dare cut into us
We’ll go on and see it through

Belle,
Une rose qui a joue son role
Mon Miroir,
Mon clef d’or
Mon cheval
Et mon gant sont les cinq secrets de ma puissance

Je voulais livrer
Il vous suffira de mettre ce gant
A votre main droite
Il vous transportera ou vous desirez l’etre

When the night has come in
Your eyes are running wild
Then I hear you humming
All night long

Yeah the sign I see it
Yeah the times I see it
All I need to know from you
Is all I see

Can you feel the light
The air is wild, open
Oh you see the light,
It’s coming through
It’s there in the distance
Always offered to me
Always coming over a hill
Yeah the seasons come in
All the nights are woven
All the nights we’ll see them through
Ahh no hundred men now
Would dare cut into us
We’ll go on and see it through

I Spit Roses
The captain is sea
In the moonlight the same
The ship all himself
Rose spitter the name
A high mutiny
Submerged down and under

Shake shack left you in shock
Shed poison with a lover’s lock
All hands wound and fraught
Blow the dark- that we thought!

I spit roses
I spit…

Shake shack, ring the bell!
Pretty petty, they shall swell!
Swell kid-like; kid-like squeak
Was it a trick or was it treat?

I spit roses
I spit…

The captain is sea
In the moonlight the same
Reflex us and him
He blurts karma, no sin
The tall one astute
The ginger all things
To all men he’s kind
I split heart from mind
I spit roses and thank
Oh, the boat we thought sank!

I spit roses
I spit roses
I spit roses
I spit roses
Roses

I spit roses
I spit roses (Wall to wall pillar to post)
(I’m back at the task, the task, that i love most)
Roses (Wall to wall pillar to post)
(I’m back at the task, the task, that i love most)
Roses (I’m back at the task, the task, that i love most)
Roses