1. 01 I fiori degli schiavi NoWhiteRag 1:41
  2. 02 Resilience NoWhiteRag 3:15
  3. 03 Come a Kobane NoWhiteRag 1:37
  4. 04 Monsanto is killing me NoWhiteRag 2:50
  5. 05 Ciò che conta NoWhiteRag 2:54
  6. 06 Love and rage 3:11
  7. 07 Con le zanne al collo NoWhiteRag 4:01
  8. 08 Vomito sul mondo NoWhiteRag 2:04
  9. 09 In via Togliatti NoWhiteRag 3:35
  10. 10 The sin pyre NoWhiteRag 3:18
  11. 11 I lavoratori della notte NoWhiteRag 2:30
  12. 12 The black list 3:44
  13. 13 No reason why NoWhiteRag 3:13
  14. 14 La tragedia delle certezze NoWhiteRag 2:37
  15. 15 It’s going to rain NoWhiteRag 3:59

Lyrics

I fiori degli schiavi

Non metterò fiori alla finestra del carcere in cui mʼhanno cresciuto
Non pulirò le scale del patibolo e mi rivendico detenuto

Ai ferri corti con i codardi
che mal si nascondono e inciampano nei loro guinzagli

Hai chiuso la porta non aprirai mai
Ti riconosci schiavo?

Hai chiuso la porta non aprirai mai
La chiave dʼuscita sei tu e non lo sai

Sei il carceriere di un ego virtuale
il surrogato di ogni tuo istinto, sei tu al tuo funerale

Hai chiuso la porta non aprirai mai
Ti riconosci schiavo?

Hai chiuso la porta non aprirai mai
La chiave dʼuscita sei tu e non lo sai

consapevole di essere il mio unico boia
affilo la lama del mio futuro

e aspetto, aspetto, aspetto

Hai chiuso la porta non aprirai mai
Ti riconosci schiavo?

Hai chiuso la porta non aprirai mai
La
chiave dʼuscita sei tu e non lo sai

The flowers of the slaves

I wonʼt place any flowers at the window of the jail where they raised me
Wonʼt clean up the stairs of the gallows, and I claim myself
prisoner

At each otherʼs throats with the cowards
who badly hide themselves and stumble in their leads

You shut the door, youʼll never open
Do you recognize the slave?
You shut the door, youʼll never open
The key to
get out is you and you donʼt know

You are the jailer of a virtual ego surrogate
of every instinct, thatʼs you at your funeral

You shut the door, youʼll never open
Do you recognize the slave?
You shut the door, youʼll never open
the key to get out is you and you donʼt know

Aware of being my only hangman
I sharpen the blade of my future and wait, wait, wait

You shut the door, youʼll never open
Do you recognize the slave? You shut the door, youʼll never open
The key to get out is you and you donʼt know

Resilience

A blank piece of paper rests on the table
I think Iʼve no words anymore
I envy myself when I was snotty and rebel
ʻcos all my persistence is gone

I need a resolution, a better place to go
where I have few books to read, my girl and my dogs
resilience is heading, holding my will, Iʼm alive

I was sick of seeking you
I was sick of seeking you
I felt forsaken and confused
ʻcos Iʼve got nothing, nothing to lose yet

Thereʼs rust on the frame but not on the picture
Iʼm saving the best from that boy

that felt like a loser but with something to prove
with a gaze full of sorrow and joy

He dreamt a revolution, a safer place to go
just booze and punk rock, boycott and revolt
resilience was heading, holding his will, he was alive

He was sick of seeking you
he was sick of seeking you
He felt forsaken and confused
ʻcos heʼs got nothing, nothing to lose yet

“Lifeʼs too short to waste” is a cheap sentence
a good eulogy for everyone but itʼs easier to be said than done

She was leaving an addiction, carving a new path
through mountains of bad memories, making peace with past
and resilience was heading, holding her will, she was alive

She was sick of seeking you
She was sick of seeking you
She felt forsaken and confused
ʻcos sheʼs got nothing, nothing to lose

Somebody is sinking somebody has drowned
Iʼm fighting and rising 
but Iʼm drenched to the bones

Come a Kobane

Ho gli occhi al cielo che piangono bombe
un cuore crollato tra martiri e tombe

Rojava insegna, Rojava insegna la dignità
Rojava insegna, come a Kobane No Pasaran!

Su terra antica che aiuta ad alzarmi
nascono fiori accanto alle armi

Rojava insegna, Rojava insegna la dignità
Rojava insegna, come a Kobane No Pasaran!

E quando intorno si alzano muri dʼodio, troverò resistenza, solidarietà
e una scritta trionferà: The only way to stop the hate is with love and YPG The only way to stop the hate is with love and YPJ

Rojava insegna, Rojava insegna la libertà
Rojava
insegna, come a Kobane No Pasaran!

Like in Kobane

I have pointed on the sky my eyes crying bombs
A collapsed heart among martyrs and tombs

Rojava teaching, Rojava teaching dignity
Rojava teaching, like in Kobane No Pasaran!

On ancient ground helping me to stand up
flowers are growing next to the weapons

Rojava teaching, Rojava teaching dignity
Rojava teaching, like in Kobane No Pasaran!

And when around rise walls of hate, Iʼll find resistance, solidarity, and a writing will prevail: The only way to stop the hate is with love and YPG The only way to stop the hate is with love and YPJ

Rojava teaching, Rojava teaching dignity
Rojava teaching, like in Kobane No Pasaran!

This song is dedicated to Anna Campbell (1991–2018). She was a British feminist, anarchist and activist from Lewes (UK) who fought with the Kurdish Womenʼs Protection Units (YPJ) in Syria. She was the first British woman to die fighting for the Kurdish forces in Rojava. She died under the Turkeyʼs bombs in March 2018 after Erdogan ordered to attack Afrin despite it was still full of civilians. The result was 200.000 displaced people, and 300 dead.

Rojava consists of three autonomous regions (Afrin, Jazira and Kobane), on the border of Turkey and Syria.

Rojava is an active, historically unique socio-political experiment. It is a stateless direct democracy consisting of bottom-up self-governing structures. It is a feat of cooporative anarchism. It is a true alternative to the embraced nation state systems that do nothing but dominate and fail, mindlessly looping through history.

Rojava defends itself with DIY weaponry and anything they can get off the black market or scavenge from ISIS. It has diverse voluntary forces that consist of groups like the YPG (The Peopleʼs Protection Units), YPJ (Womanʼs Protection Unit) & PKK (Peopleʼs Defense Force).

From September 2014 to January 2015 Kobane was under siege by Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant. Most of the city was destroyed but the YPG and YPJ militia held out and the city was liberated.

FUCK DEASH, FUCK FUNDAMENTALISM AND PATRIARCHY – SUPPORT ROJAVA

Monsanto is killing me

Everybody is talking ʻbout the weather
in my block nobody is used to lies
things are bad and wonʼt get any better
the eldest
say it just looking at the sky

The things are bad, wonʼt get any better

We run away from misery
slaughtered by technology

in our mind we know our enemy

To avoid the pitfalls and the backhoes
to not get sick because of pesticides
weʼll chase that dry riverbed and arrange
in a shelter far from what we leave behind

The things are bad, wonʼt get any better

We run away from misery
slaughtered by technology

in our mind we know our enemy

We are savage, we are free
we live in peace and equality
but in our mind we know our enemies

Monsanto Company was an agrochemical and agricultural biotechnology corporation. It was headquartered in Creve Coeur, Greater St. Louis, Missouri. Monsanto developed Roundup, a glyphosate-based herbicide in the 1970s, and became a major producer of genetically engineered crops.

Monsanto was one of the first companies to apply the biotechnology industry business model to agriculture, using techniques developed by biotech drug companies.

Monsantoʼs roles in agricultural changes, biotechnology products and lobbying of government agencies and roots as a chemical company resulted in controversies. The company once manufactured controversial products such as the insecticide DDT, PCBs, Agent Orange and recombinant bovine growth hormone. Its seed patenting model was criticized as biopiracy and a threat to biodiversity.

On June 2018 Bayer acquires Monsanto for US$66 billion.
How do you feel to be cure from the same people who feed you?

Ciò che conta

Mentre impreco il cielo
con fulmini e con rabbia
il terreno sotto i piedi
invecchia come le mie ossa
che dolgono e che vogliono uscire dalla carne
per poi tornare libere, per poi tornare cenere e vivere nellʼaria,
nel cielo e dentro il mare in tutte quelle onde che si vanno a frantumare

Va bene e così sia
via nelle tenebre del caos
nelle mille vie che la vita mi propone
senza più paure, senza direzione

E vivere nellʼaria, nel cielo e dentro il mare
in tutte quelle onde che si vanno a frantumare
e a consumare il mondo che io odio, porcoddio
onda dopo onda finché niente, niente più ci sia

E nei vulcani, io brucerò
nelle tempeste io ci sarò
Di altre vite ma che ne sai
io non ho dio né ora né mai

E se non lascio segni
e se non lascio tracce
se non ho più sogni a nessuno gliene importa
almeno cʼho provato ed è questo ciò che conta

E vivrò nellʼaria, nel cielo e dentro il mare
in tutte quelle onde che si vanno a frantumare
e a consumare il mondo che io amo, porcoddio
onda dopo onda finché niente più ci sia

E nei vulcani, io brucerò
nelle tempeste io ci sarò
Di altre vite ma che ne sai
io non ho dio né ora né mai

••••

What counts

While I curse the sky
with flashes and with rage
the ground under my feet
is aging like my bones
that hurt and that want to get out of the flesh
for then get back to freedom, for then get back to ashes
and live in the air, in the sky and in the sea
in all those waves going to crash on the beach

All right, so shall it be
away in the shadows of chaos
among a thousand ways life is suggesting me
without any more fear, with no more direction

And living in the air, in the sky and in the sea
in all those waves going to crash on the beach
and to consume the world that I hate, porcoddio
wave after wave until nothing, nothing will be there

And in volcanoes I will burn
In the storms, there I will be
What do you know of other lives
I have no god, not now and for life

And if I donʼt leave a sign
And if I donʼt leave a track
If I have no more dreams, nobody will care
At least I did a try and this is what counts

And Iʼll live in the air, in the sky and in the sea
in all those waves going to crash on the beach
and to consume the world that I love, porcoddio
wave after wave until nothing, nothing will be there

And in volcanoes I will burn
In the storms, there I will be
What do you know of other lives
I have no god, not now and for life

Love and rage

Well I wanna freeze my feelings right tonight
itʼs not so fucking easy, you know, Iʼm pretty shy
I feel deceived, I feel defeated, my heart has been broken
I had hopes, I felt strong, in all this time I was not joking

I believed in this feeling inside me
the certainty we are right, theyʼre not
We could make a great alternative
to their fucking system but seasons are crawling beside me

But I still thought the words have a germinal power
louder then a bomb, songs that start the fire

from the mind through the spine, rhymes that changed my life
and I canʼt describe the love and the rage Iʼve got inside

And I canʼt say if Iʼm broken or damaged
but Iʼm sure to feel the pain

And I canʼt say if I broken or damaged
but I still feel the same old rage anyway

and to see so many friends take it like a game
acting like bored boys to the rebellion play

It made me sick and desperate watch ʼem come and go
a flash goodby while Iʼve never ever joked

ʻcos I believe in this feeling inside me
the certainty we are right, theyʼre not
we can make a great alternative
to their fucking system and system wonʼt defeat me

So thatʼs the plan for tomorrow, a diy community
that plant seeds of liberty, love, creativity

to not be wrong, to not be lost, we should not ever leave
itʼs not about redemption, itʼs the passion that we need

And I canʼt say if weʼre broken or damaged
but Iʼm sure we feel the pain

And I canʼt say if weʼre broken or damaged
but we wanna break the chains anyway

Con le zanne al collo

Il bus per Bekasi non passerà
a Bimo non importa, comunque si suonerà
per chi ha le spalle al muro o le zanne al collo
il punk è vita in faccia, la scelta di chi non è dʼaccordo

Up the pirate punx
Back to Tangeerang
Up the pirate punx
Hey boys, Ciu in hell!

Anche a Jakarta non ci sono stelle
qui come in Emilia le paure son quelle.
Rabbia e ribellione a questo sistema
e io mi sento a casa qui dallʼaltra parte di sto cazzo di pianeta

Up the pirate punx
Back to Tangeerang
Up the pirate punx
Hey girls, Ciu in hell!

White fangs, black rags
is everything I need
White fangs, black rags
the tribe is closing in
thatʼs my family, a loud minority without authority, fuck authority
Iʼve got my family, a loud minority without authority, fuck authority

Da Bandung a Cipanas su navi pirata
alte le nostre bandiere sulla carovana!

A Taring Babi si insegna la rivoluzione
come sognare e boicottare questa nazione

Up the pirate punx
Back to Tangeerang
Up the pirate punx
Hey friends, Ciu in hell!

••••

Fangs around the neck

The bus to Bekasi is not gonna arrive
Bimo doesnʼt care, anyway weʼre gonna play
for those having the back against the wall or fangs around the neck
punk is life in your face, the choice of those who disagree

Up the pirate punx
Back to Tangeerang
Up the pirate punx
Hey boys, Ciu in hell!

Even in Jakarta there are no stars
here like in Emilia they got the same fears
Rage and rebellion against this system
I feel home on the other side of this fucking planet

Up the pirate punx
Back to Tangeerang
Up the pirate punx
Hey boys, Ciu in hell!

White fangs, black rags
is everything I need
White fangs, black rags
the tribe is closing in
Thatʼs my family, a loud minority without authority, fuck authority
Iʼve got my family, a loud minority without authority, fuck authority

From Bandung to Cipanas on pirate ships
our rags waving high on the caravan
In Taring Babi theyʼre teaching revolution
learning how to dream and boycott this nation

Up the pirate punx
Back to Tangeerang
Up the pirate punx
Hey friends, Ciu in hell!

Vomito sul mondo

Sigarette e birra, polveri sottili.
Faccio colazione col catarro e due frollini
Mi sento una merda, vedo già il tramonto.
La vita mi sta presentando il conto

Ma non ho un soldo
Son tutto rotto
Ma non ho sonno
E scappo senza pagare!

Vizi capitali, ne conosco due: ira, gola, ira, gola, sbocco nelle vie
Sto imbarcando acqua, lontano vedo il porto
ma la vita mi sta presentando il conto

Ma non ho un soldo
Son tutto rotto
Ma non ho sonno
E scappo senza pagare!

Arsura ignobile, indelebile,
un suicidio lento ma bello da morire

Vado a testa alta verso l’aldilà.
Il sesso fatto male dentro al bagno di quel bar
Come faceva mio nonno
vomito sul mondo che mi presenta il conto

Ma non ho un soldo
Son tutto rotto
Ma non ho sonno
E scappo senza pagare!

••••

Puke on the world

Cigarettes and beer, particulate matter.
My breakfast based on sputum and a couple of frollinis

I already see the sunset,
feeling like a shit
Life is showing me the bill

But Iʼve no money
I am all broken
But Iʼm not tired
And run off without paying

Capital vices, I know two of them:
wrath gluttony wrath gluttony I puke in the streets

Iʼm taking on water, see the harbour
in the distance but life is showing me the bill

But Iʼve no money
I am all broken
But Iʼm not tired
And run off without paying

Despicable, permanent thirst
A slow suicide, beautiful as hell

My head high, I walk towards the afterlife
That bad sex had in that toilet of that bar

Like my grandfather used to do
I puke on the world that is showing me the bill

But Iʼve no money
I am all broken
But Iʼm not tired
And run off without paying

In via Togliatti

In via Togliatti ci sono piante dʼalloro,
due osterie, una galera ma nessun manicomio.
Mʼhanno spedito lontano
che se lʼocchio non vede, il cuore non duole
Mi avrebbero dato una mano

ma solo per via del mio cognome

Mi troverai a maledirvi
mi troverai da solo col dolore
ma fiero di non sentirmi figlio di un dio migliore

In via Togliatti ci sono targhe al valore,
case del popolo, chiese, ma nessun peccatore.
Quando un vizio è privato

non scelgono sempre il bene migliore
Il male che ho dentro mi è innato
e mal si addiceva al mio cognome

Mi troverai a maledirvi
mi troverai da solo col dolore
ma fiero di non sentirmi figlio di un dio migliore

Compagni dai campi e dalle officine
guardate la fine che avete fatto

io figlio malnato e rinnegato
di una cultura cattocomunista
guardo il vostro mondo e mi vergogno
mi vergogno di voi, sicuri di voi
dentro alle mura della democrazia
non concedete niente perchè niente vi è concesso

In via Togliatti ci sono aiuole curate
mercati e bambini di giorno, di notte puttane
A Villa Igea mʼhan lasciato

tanto là fuori nessuno mi vuole,
aspetto la morte sedato
e maledico il mio cognome

Mi troverai a maledirvi
mi troverai da solo col dolore
ma fiero di non sentirmi figlio di un dio migliore

••••

In via Togliatti

In via Togliatti there are bay trees,
two inns, a prison but no madhouse
They shipped me far away
ʻcause if itʼs out of sight, then itʼs out of mind
Theyʼd have given me a hand

but just thanks to my family name

Youʼll find me cursing you
youʼll find me alone with my pain
but proud of not feeling like the son of a better god

In via Togliatti there are plates of valor citizenʼs centres,
churches, but no sinners
When a vice is private

not always they opt for the best
The evil I bare inside is innate
and was badly matching my family name

Youʼll find me cursing you
youʼll find me alone with my pain
but proud of not feeling like the son of a better god

Comrades from the fields and from the factories
look what the hell happened to you

Me, wretched and rejected son
of a catholic-communist culture
I look at your world and feel ashamed ashamed of you,
so confident on yourselves inside the walls of democracy

youʼre not giving a thing ʻcause nothing is given to you

In via Togliatti there are clean-cut flower beds
daylight markets and kids, nightlife hookers
They left me at Villa Igea

out there nobody wants me
Sedated I wait for my death
and curse my family name

Youʼll find me cursing you
youʼll find me alone with my pain
but proud of not feeling like the son of a better god

••••

Aldino Togliatti (1925-2011) died at the mental hospital “Villa Igea” in Modena. He was a solitary man that used to play chess, smoking cigarettes and stroll in the park. Nobody knew he was the son of Palmiro Togliatti, everybody knew him just like “Aldo”.

Palmiro Togliatti (1893-1964) was an Italian politician and leader of the PCI (Italian Communist Party) from 1927 until his death. He was nicknamed by his supporters “Il Migliore” (“The Best”). In 1930 he became a citizen of the Soviet Union.

Aldo spent many years away from his family studying in USSR. When he returned home he felt a sense of disorientation and anxiety next to his fatherʼs figure and fame. Then the escalation of crises lead him to psychiatric clinics, drugs, electroshock, until the hospitalization for life. The PCI kept him secret probably

because a madman is not a good thing for the propaganda.

The sin pyre

A homicide, another cry
another dead child on the shoreline
and false teardrops shine on the public eyes
and I watch my family sink into a ocean of lies, lies…

A genocide, a bloody line, another stupid border
made by walls, blocks, cops, stops, I ended up on a

Sin pyre. Identify me and crucify me
Sin pyre. Blame me, fuck me and victimize me and set fire
while my only guilt and sin is to be a refugee

Dehumanize and terrorize
Another bloody mass hysteria
like in a witch hunt they set up pyres
I watch my familyʼs heart drenched by hate, hate…

A genocide, a bloody line, another stupid border
made by walls, blocks, cops, stops, I ended up on a

Sin pyre. Identify me and crucify me
Sin pyre. Blame me, fuck me and victimize me and set fire

Set fire and spit on me thereʼs barbed wire on my destiny

Sin pyre. Identify me and crucify me
Sin pyre. Blame me, fuck me and victimize me and set fire
Set fire to your deeper shame

Set fire to your fears and mistakes
Set fire the blood on your hands
The Sin Pyre is your consciousness

While my only guilt and sin is to be a human being

I lavoratori della notte

Dritto avanti tutta che indietro non si torna
a sbirri e serrature ho dichiarato guerra.
Pirati in questo mare di squali ed avvoltoi
la proprietà è un furto per quelli come noi

Privilegi e autorità
covano in seno alla tua invidia
Privilegi e autorità

nati dal veleno di chi teme la libertà

Notte, compagna nostra, cela i nostri passi
e portaci nel buio a sottrarre ogni ricchezza
e a consegnare agli avidi che umiliano e che sfruttano
unʼalba di casseforti vuote che se la ridono

Privilegi e autorità
covano in seno alla tua invidia Privilegi e autorità
nati dal veleno di chi teme la libertà

Colpevole di aver rubato ai poveri di cuore
Che il tutto sia di tutti e il niente non ci sia

••••

The workers of the night

Ahead, full steam ahead, for there is no way back
I have declared war to cops and to locks
Pirates in this sea of sharks and vultures
Property is a theft for those like us

Privileges, authorities
hatch in the womb of your envy
Privileges authorities

born from the poison of those who fear liberty

Night, our fellow night, please hide our steps
and lead us to steal every treasure in the dark
and deliver to the greed who humiliate and exploit
a dawn of empty grinning vaults

Privileges, authorities
hatch in the womb of your envy
Privileges authorities

born from the poison of those who fear liberty

Guilty to have stolen from the false-hearted
May all be for all and may nothing not be at all

••••

Alexandre Marius Jacob (1879-1954), was a French anarchist illegalist. A clever burglar equipped with a sharp sense of humour, capable of great generosity towards his victims, he became one of the models for Maurice Leblancʼs character Arsene Lupin.

In 1900 he organized a band of men, calling them “Le travailleur de la nuit” (“The workers of the night”). The principles were simple: one does not kill, except to protect his life and his freedom from the police; one steals only from those considered to be social parasites like bosses, judges, soldiers, and the clergy, but never from the professions considered useful like architects, doctors and artists. Finally, a percentage of the stolen money was to be invested into the anarchist cause and to finance the workers circles, the unemployed and the marginalized. Between 1900 and 1903 The workers of the night made over 150 burglaries in Paris, surrounding provinces and even abroad. On April 21, 1903 Jacob and his two accomplices were captured. Two years later in Amiens Jacob appeared in court. Anarchist supporters flocked to the city, creating a platform for his ideas. “You now know who I am: one revolted, living on the product of his burglings.” He escaped from the guillotine but was condemned to a life of forced labor in Cayenne.

Jacob tried to escape seventeen times without success. After 25 years of prison he was freed. He became a commercial peddler and remarried, he never renounced his criminal lifestyle or his opinions and he continued to provoke the authorities until the end of the days. In 1954 he decided to commit suicide, he didnʼt like the oldness and he wanted to leave his life before the illness would take his mind and body. Just before injecting the fatal dose of morphine, he wrote to his friends:

“I have lived a life brimful of happiness and misfortunes, and Iʼve been offered the pleasure of closing it with such a swan song that I consider myself blessed by fate. Also, I take my leave of you without despair, with a smile on my lips and peace in my heart. You are too young to be able to appreciate the pleasure which lies in leaving in good health, in snapping oneʼs fingers at all of the infirmities which old age holds in store. There they are all assembled, the swine, ready to devour me. Very little for me. Address yourselves to those who cling to life. I have lived. I can face death.

When you get this letter, I will be no more. I am taking my own life on a Saturday so that folk will have the

Sunday to see to the body and so that the laying-out and the arrangements do not inconvenience them.

Linen washed, rinsed, dried, but not ironed. Iʼm in a lazy frame of mind. Sorry. You will find two litres of rosé wine beside the pantry. To your health”

The black list

I need a reason to wake up ʻcos the world outsideʼs fucked up

Oh, I need to leave behind my badlands full of lies
where everybodyʼs hostile, isolation is the price
I swallowed the rules, I fall down confused
ʻcos I canʼt find my peace of mind in any drugs or booze. Nothing new!

Iʼm a lonely, lonely wolf, on a lonely dead-end road
I threw my life away for something new,

Iʼm a lonely, lonely wolf, on a lonely dead-end road
I throw my mind, my mind away

and itʼs fine to not look back anyway

I need a reason to give up
I need a reason to cut the crap

Usually I hate the people who commit suicide
but the time has come, Iʼve got enough, I wanna give a try yeah,
death like an option, death like a reason

to feel alive across my very intimate last second.

Iʼm a lonely, lonely wolf, on a lonely dead-end road
I threw my life away for something new,

Iʼm a lonely, lonely wolf, on a lonely dead-end road
I throw my mind, my mind away

Maybe I go out for a walk
Stop it, I donʼt wanna talk
Maybe I should call home
and tell ʼem Iʼm not alive anymore

Iʼm a lonely, lonely wolf, on a lonely dead-end road
I threw my life away for something new,

Iʼm a lonely, lonely wolf, on a lonely dead-end road
I throw my mind, my mind away

No reason why

The clock strikes midnight and Iʼm waiting
the shift change is here, Iʼm in time
My apron is clean like my rubber boots
but my soul is covered by grime

The vision of blood is so draining
but existence entails sacrifice
As my forefather did, as my culture teaches
to slaughter living things is not a crime

I ainʼt no tears to cry
ʻcos killing for a living is my alibi
I ainʼt no tears to cry
no compassion for animals and thereʼs no reason why

Tonight the guilt is overwhelming
the cries trouble my mind
their sorrow is real, at the sight of the knife
and their blood is red just as mine

I ainʼt no tears to cry
ʻcos killing for a living is my alibi
I ainʼt no tears to cry
no compassion for animals and thereʼs no reason why

I read it in the bible, they teach it in the schools
mankindʼs the better race, the planet is just a tool
but thatʼs the way things are and no, itʼs not my blame
ʻcos people authorize me inflict them this pain

I ainʼt no tears to cry
ʻcos killing for a living is my alibi
I ainʼt no tears to cry
no compassion for animals and thereʼs no reason why

La tragedia delle certezze

Litanie di rassegnazione
da fabbriche, chiese e caserme
entrano cupe nelle persone come bufere dʼinverno

E come la pioggia corrode
le infamie che uccidono la rabbia
In lotta costante con il presente, il nemico lo cela la nebbia

Requiem per il passato
Requiem per ciò che hai lasciato
Requiem per il presente

che forse domani non avrai niente

Preghiere pagane e lamenti,
dannati che cercano salvezza
lontano dai vostri valori e certezze,
qualcuno ricerca vendetta

Requiem per il passato
Requiem per ciò che hai lasciato
Requiem per il presente

che forse domani non avrai niente

Che le parole diventino vita e colpiscano senza paura
che quello che loro chiamano il male

per noi diventi la cura
la volontà eluda lʼistinto e diventi la madre dei folli
e il sol dellʼavvenire svegli gli schiavi
e porti un mondo che crolli

Il buio viene a schiarire le idee
e distrugge certezze
a voi che credete di avere risposte vi lascia solo amarezze

Requiem per il passato
Requiem per ciò che hai lasciato
Requiem per il presente

che forse domani non avrai niente

••••

The tragedy of certainties

Resignation litanies
from factories, churches and army bases
darkly sneak into people

like winter blizzards

And like the rain corrodes villainies
that are killing the rage
Constantly struggling with the present,
the enemy is hidden in the fog

Requiem for the past
Requiem for what you left
Requiem for the present

for maybe tomorrow you wonʼt have a thing

Pagan prayers and complaints,
the damned seeking salvation
Away from your values and certainties somebody is seeking revenge

Requiem for the past
Requiem for what you left
Requiem for the present

for maybe tomorrow you wonʼt have a thing

May words come to life
and strike without fear
May what they call evil
become for us the cure
May the will elude the instinct
and become the foolsʼ mother
May the sun of the future wake up slaves and bring a world falling apart

Darkness comes to enlighten ideas and destroy certainties
For you who believe to know the answers, it leaves you just with bitterness

Requiem for the past
Requiem for what you left
Requiem for the present

for maybe tomorrow you wonʼt have a thing

It's going to rain

I hate this crowded station on the fucking Christmas day
the doors close and bring you away

I give up my hopes on the track nr. 3
I hold back tears I got to let them free, yeah

I told you many times I canʼt write any love song
because I was afraid to make it wrong

this is not the way, yeah maybe it makes you blue
but now Iʼd love to be right there with you

Itʼs going to rain
itʼs going to rain, to rain
I hope it washes our pain away, away
waiting for another sunny day

yeah, life has been so rude despite the things we do
it fell apart, and we burned the fuse.

This green bottle is my christmas tree tonight.
Cheers my sweet, the storm is going to arrive

Itʼs going to rain
itʼs going to rain, to rain
I hope it washes our pain away, away
waiting for another sunny day

Credits

Zanna: voice, harmonica Katta: guitars, backing vocals Monti: guitars, backing vocals Grug: bass
Ancè: drums

Recorded between 2016 and 2018 by Marà and Grug @ NoWayStudio, Villa Punk. Mixed and mastered by Grug @ Son House Studio in Bologna.

Involves the precious co-operation of:
Julia: voice in “Ciò che conta”, “Itʼs going to rain” Willi: backing vocals in “Come a Kobane”
Modi: voice in “I lavoratori della notte”
Steno: harmonica in “Itʼs going to rain”

Shots by Federica Sangiorgi
Translations by Julia StrayDog
Drawings by Stefano Artibani // stefanoartibani.blogspot.com Artwork by Zanna

Love goes to:
Our families, friends, animals. All the labels involved in this release. all the squats, diy places, festivals that hosted us and let us play in all these 15 years of activity. All the bands we share the road and the stage with. Marà for the support also during the mix/master process. David a.v. for the help in organizing this release. All the punx that continue to support us. Never give up!

All music and lyrics written by NOWHITERAG

Contacts:
www.nowhiterag.com // nuclearchaos@autoproduzioni.net

This album was made possible by the cooperation of these diy labels:

Nuclear Chaos Records
n.c.073 // nuclearchaos.noblogs.org

Angry Voice Records
avr-061 // www.angry-voice.de

Maniac Attack Records
MA044 // www.maniac-attack.de

Sub Zine Records
SZR-035 // www.sub-zine.net

Bomb All Records
BA 033 // bomb-all-records@gmx.de

Tuscia Clan: tusciaclan@gmail.com
fb: Tuscia Clan – Cantina Del Gojo Supporters

Call the Cops Records www.callthecops.co.uk

Straydog: straydog.diy@gmail.com

Spit it Out Records spit.it.out.recs@gmail.com

Keponteam Records keponteam.org@gmail.com www.keponteam.org

Guerilla Vinyl
www.AttentatSonore.com // asso.diy.free.fr

From the Album Cover

“Sir!”
“WHOʼS THERE?”
“Someone is sinking youʼd better start to swim or else end up drowning as well”

“What the fuck do you want from me?! Iʼm fighting to get to the surface since when I was born. I might be also a bit tired, Iʼd like to know what could ever be so special up there… Yes I might find oxygen, the sun, maybe a coast on the horizon. But maybe not! Maybe thereʼs another world of shit, corpses floating, vultures devouring them, ships discharging shit in the water… Have you ever thought about it? Then I ask myself what could ever be on the other side of the stream! I see a lot of people slowly sinking upside down, they gave up, let themselves go, theyʼre the defeated ones. Is there anything wrong in this? I wish I never end up like them, but how can I blame them, maybe down there they will find some peace. Weʼre living a lifelong in apnea – fuckinʼ hell, and nothing changes, the world I hate stays always the same, in fact it does nothing but getting worse! After all this time I realized how hard it is to be sure about something, and those who are, theyʼre often lying to themselves. Iʼm sure about a few things, but I definitely know that nobody will come to save me and that thereʼs nothing like a divine pattern, no intelligent design that brought me to life. The only thing that makes me feel better is to know that one day I will turn into dust and over the centuries I will become again part of the ground, the sea, the fire and of the essential and chaotic nature that will put an end to the world that I know, that world that I love, that world that I hate.

Have you ever heard that little story about utopia? The one that says utopia is like the horizon, every step you move forward it will move too, so that you can never reach it. What the fuck do we need utopia for? To keep walking… Bloody bullshit innit?! ʻCause if I replace the horizon with a carrot, from the romantic hero struggling for emancipation, in an instant you turn into a donkey running to catch this carrot hanging from the line, without ever succeeding and additionally being ridden by someone whoʼs exploiting your effort. You understand what I mean? I donʼt know why Iʼm here asking you all these questions, I donʼt even know who the fuck you are and why am I talking to you… Also guess I should share these fears with somebody, donʼt you think?! I donʼt want to sink, but neither do I want to swim all my life for nothing. I discovered resilience, I found out about self-determination. Hence, I suddenly want to turn around and see whoʼs waving this carrot in front of my face and when I would get it perhaps I could say I am sure about one more thing.”

“Sir!!”
“WHAT?”
“It doesnʼt matter Sir, days go by, hurry up and do what you have to do”

••••

“Signore!”
“Che cʼè?”
“Qualcuno sta affondando è meglio che cominci a nuotare o finirà per annegare anche lei”

“Ma che cazzo vuoi da me?! È da quando sono nato che lotto per salire in superficie. Sarei anche un poʼ stanco, vorrei sapere lassù che cosa ci sarà mai di tanto speciale… Si forse troverei lʼossigeno, il sole, magari lʼorizzonte con una costa. Ma magari no! Magari cʼè un altro mondo di merda, dei cadaveri che galleggiano, degli avvoltoi che se li mangiano, delle navi che scaricano merda nellʼacqua… Ci hai mai pensato? Poi mi chiedo invece dallʼaltra parte della corrente cosa ci sia! Vedo un sacco di gente affondare lentamente a testa in giù, si sono arresi, si sono lasciati andare, sono i vinti. Cʼè qualcosa di male? Non vorrei mai fare la loro fine, ma come biasimarli, magari laggiù troveranno pace. Stiamo vivendo in apnea da tutta la vita porcoddio e non cambia nulla, il mondo che odio rimane sempre lo stesso, anzi non fa che peggiorare! Dopo tutto questo tempo ho capito che

avere delle certezze è molto difficile e chi ce le ha spesso sta mentendo a sè stesso. Io di certezze ne ho poche, ma sicuramente sò che non verrà nessuno a salvarmi e che non esiste nessuno schema divino, nessun disegno intelligente che mi ha messo in vita. Lʼunica consolazione è sapere che un giorno diventerò polvere e nei secoli dei secoli tornerò a far parte della terra, del mare, del fuoco e della imprescindibile e caotica natura che metterà fine a tutto il mondo che io conosco, quello che amo e anche quello che odio.

Lʼhai mai sentita la storiella dellʼutopia? Quella che dice che lʼutopia è come lʼorizzonte, ogni passo avanti che fai quello si sposta e così non ci arrivi mai. A che cazzo serve lʼutopia? A camminare… Bella cagata vero?! Perché se sostituisco lʼorizzonte con una carota, dallʼeroe romantico che lotta per la propria emancipazione diventi in un attimo lʼasino che corre per prendere questa carota appesa alla lenza, senza mai riuscirci e perdipiù cavalcato da qualcuno che sfrutta la tua fatica. Capisci quello che voglio dire? Io non lo so perché sto qui a farti tutte queste domande, manco so chi cazzo sei e perché sto parlando con te… Però con qualcuno dovrò pure condividerli questi timori non credi?! Io non voglio affondare ma non voglio nemmeno nuotare tutta la vita per niente. Ho scoperto la resilienza, ho scoperto lʼautodeterminazione. Quindi mʼè venuta voglia allʼimprovviso di girarmi e vedere sta carota chi è che me la sta facendo sventolare davanti agli occhi e quando lʼavrò capito forse potrò dire di avere una certezza in più.”

“Signore!!”
“CHECCʼÈ?
“Non importa signore, i giorni passano, si sbrighi a fare quello che deve fare”

Spotify Buy

Resilience [2018]

Band :
Titolo : Resilience
Release Date : 16 Ottobre 2018
Label :
Catalog ref. : NC073
Format : Vinyl