"Avevo molti brani rock e il disco poteva diventare un secondo MEDIAMENTE ISTERICA, mentre io volevo evitare di ripetermi. Dato che l'impostazione chitarristica di solito adottata tende a uniformare, ci siamo messi a sperimentare e a giocare con la musica, cercando di diversificare gli arrangiamenti. In passato, quasi tutto era organizzato nello stesso modo: batteria in 4/4, basso con plettro, chitarra con big muff... Qui invece, abbiamo usato parecchie batterie, casse di grandezze differenti, stanze e collocazioni di microfoni diverse. In generale, l'obiettivo era ottenere un suono ambientale, non troppo 'picchiato': ho chiesto spesso di usare le spazzole al posto delle bacchette e ho fatto utilizzare molti microfoni panoramici.
Nelle ritmiche ho mirato a soluzioni un po' datate, combinate però con rumori di sottofondo e qualche stranezza elettronica: un misto di antico e moderno, con l'una o l'altra filosofia a prevalere a seconda dei casi. Il risultato è senz'altro vario ma in qualche misura omogeneo, e soprattutto molto 'mio'. In quel periodo, d'altronde, mi sentivo attratta da più stili: musica sudamericana e portoghese, indie rock alla Pavement o cose alla Beth Orton, accomunati dalla stessa intenzione e dallo stesso bisogno di comunicare.
Realizzare STATO DI NECESSITÀ è stato uno spasso ma anche uno studio: di armonie, di ritmiche, di contrappunti... Ho firmato la produzione artistica, ma senza Massimo e Maurizio non ci sarei mai riuscita. Maurizio è maestro di strumenti a fiato, viene da Chet Baker, e così al posto delle solite chitarre ha suggerito tappeti ambientali di brass: roba alla Otis Redding, Ben E. King, Aretha Franklin, Wilson Pickett. Massimo, invece, ha avuto l'idea di invertire i nostri ruoli: in pratica, lui ha suonato le mie chitarre e io ho fatto il chitarrista di me stessa, per evitare che la mia chitarra di accompagnamento avesse le stesse cadenze della voce. Inoltre, ha voluto inserire alcune tastiere parecchio ironiche, volutamente kitsch... E anche un pianoforte un po' dissonanante e qualche moog."
* tratto da Carmen Consoli - Quello che sento, F. Guglielmi - GIUNTI Editore 2006
You puzzle me
But that’s just an elegant way
To say I love you
I don’t have a good command of language
But I enjoy close contact
Treat me like a goddess
Treat me like a goddess
Touch me softly and slowly
Touch me softly and slowly
Ah… Ah… Ah… Ah…
Leave me enough breath to say it again
Leave me enough breath to do it again
Leave me enough breath to say it again
Leave me enough breath to do it again
I like playing with indecent pretence
Whispering things that make no sense
After all you’ve guessed I’m a bigot at heart
I should’ve been a nun not a little tart
Treat me like a goddess
Treat me like a goddess
Cheeky little girl
Cheeky little girl
Touch me softly and slowly
Ah… Ah… Ah… Ah…
Leave me enough breath to say it again
Leave me enough breath to do it again
Leave me enough breath to say it again
Leave me enough breath to do it again
Ah… Ah… Ah… Ah…
I am perfecting unexplored
seduction techniques
I am in the grip of the most naive perversion
Let yourself be corrupted
This is a state of necessity
Congenital hormonal euphoria
This is a case of extreme emergency
Jump on top of me Doctor go on devour me
Tear me apart study me in depth
This is an emergency no need to be embarrassed jump on me
I can’t wait
I am pandering to an instinctive inclination
Worthy of a thousand Jenna Jamesons
I enjoy not letting sleeping beasts lie
Being bitten
This is a state of necessity
Congenital hormonal euphoria
This is a case of extreme emergency
A dionysian tendency to exaggerate
Jump on top of me Doctor go on devour me
Tear me apart study me in depth
This is an emergency no need to be embarrassed jump on me
I can’t wait
Jump on top of me Doctor go on devour me
Tear me apart study me in depth
This is an emergency no need to be embarrassed jump on me
...la la la la....
Narcissist, butter me up with words
That melt under the hot breath of passion
Narcissist, transparency and mystery
Cover me with oil, almonds and vanity
Shape me…
Tell me the stories you like to invent
Frighten me
Tell me about new exciting victories
Win me over, invent me, give me a new identity
Stun me, leave me defenceless and then strike
Embrace me and intoxicate me with irony and sensuality
Narcissist, butter me up with words
That hide the proverbial selfishness of your intentions
Narcissist, what a sublime façade
Shower me with elegant lavish attentions
Inspire me
Tell me the stories you like to invent
Frighten me
Tell me about new exciting victories
Win me over, invent me, give me a new identity
Stun me, leave me defenceless and then strike
Embrace me and intoxicate me with irony and sensuality
Embrace me and intoxicate me with irony and sensuality
Win me over
Win me over
Win me over
I may seem sufficiently nostalgic and weather sensitive to you
I may seem like a woman not prone to tears
With little patience
Knowing that I am a block of stone
Boredom destroys the will to change
I should reassess everything from the beginning
Find the strength and the nerve to do it
I already know that for a moment it will be deep winter
for a moment it will be deep winter
I may seem incoherent to you
Not very trustworthy unreliable
I may seem like a prize idiot to you
Prone to sudden bursts of enthusiasm and depression
Ask me once more if I cry
If my critical equilibrium is lost once more
I should reassess everything from the beginning
Find the strength and the nerve to do it
I already know that for a moment it will be deep winter
for a moment it will be deep winter
I should reassess everything from the beginning
Find the strength and the nerve to do it
I already know that for a moment it will be deep winter
for a moment it will be deep winter
I don’t feel I have security and support
Perhaps sooner or later I will lose my love
For little things
The smell of November drawing to a close
I may seem nostalgic…..
I’m looking at a photo of my mother
She was happy she must have been about three
She was clutching a doll close to her chest
A most coveted gift.
It was her birthday party
In faded black and white .
I look at my mother in those days and I see
The same smile on her face as mine.
And to think of all the times I felt she was distant
And to think of all the times…
I would have liked to talk to her about me at least ask her to explain
Those long hostile moments of silence and indifference
Invariably
I would appear inflexible, beyond reach and proud
Deeply resolute fearing foolish rivalry
I’m looking at a photo of my mother
She was happy she must have been about twenty
Hair tied up in a silk scarf
A vacant look upon her face.
A clear view of a radiant Catania
In the sixties
I scrutinize her closely and thoroughly and find
The same look on her face as mine.
And to think of all the times I felt she was distant
And to think of all the times…
I would have liked to talk to her about me at least ask her to explain
Those long hostile moments of silence and arbitrary indolence
Invariably
I would appear inflexible, beyond reach and proud
Deeply resolute fearing an innate rivalry.
I would have liked to talk to her about me at least ask her to explain...
I would have liked to talk to her about me at least ask her to explain...
You look for shelter and brotherly love
You hold your arms out towards the mirror
you stumble and with a stern look on your face
you mumble a sad Modugno song
about violins played by the wind
the last kiss my sweet child
burns on your face like drops of lemon juice
the courageous bravery of a ferocious farewell
but those are tears and it’s raining
and it’s raining
it’s raining …
Magical quiet, veiled indulgence
After a relentless storm
You catch your breath and with intense ardour
Celebrate a meek, unusual awakening
A thousand violins played by the wind
The last embrace my beloved child
In the tenuous memory of a silver rainfall
A remorseless sense of no return
In those violins played by the wind
The last kiss my sweet child
burns on your face like drops of lemon juice
the courageous bravery of a ferocious farewell
but those are tears and it’s raining
and it’s raining
and it’s raining
it’s raining …
It amuses me to watch you making superhuman efforts
To appear convincing and intriguing
I hate to admit that you look better to me
In a white silk gown
You’d be like a sultan
Behind a counter selling
Homegrown products and entrecòtes from Provence
I feel excited by five grams of manliness
I’m worried at the thought of a blade sinking deep
I can’t resist it’s an obsessive thought you
With a silk gown and your unmistakeable charm
It amuses me to watch you making superhuman efforts
To appear more attractive and seductive
I hate to admit that I find you have become worse
All languishing looks and seaside sexy
You’d be like a sultan
Behind a counter selling
Homegrown products and entrecòtes from Provence
I feel excited by five grams of manliness
I’m worried at the thought of a blade sinking deep
I can’t resist it’s an obsessive thought you
With a silk gown and your unmistakeable charm
I can’t resist it’s an obsessive thought you
With a silk gown and your unmistakeable charm
unmistakeable charm
unmistakeable charm
unmistakeable charm
unmistakeable charm
Cautious indifference
Behind meticulous attention giving
I consider myself sincere
I detest your dismal ambitions
I’m not very good at asking
I’m not like you at all
I have gone beyond all limits
For you amado senor
I shattered all barriers
But you won’t know
I hit rock bottom long ago
Exemplary cohabitation
Darling, dinner’s ready, it’ll get cold
A splendid guise
Amid dull demonstrations of habitual affection
And I surprise myself crying
I almost feel sorry for myself
I’ve gone beyond all limits
For you amado senor
I smothered my distress
Any form of vitality
For your personal gain
For you amado senor
I smothered my distress
For you amado senor
I smothered my distress
For you amado senor
I shattered all barriers
But you won’t know
I hit rock bottom long ago
For you amado senor
For you amado senor
Of course I realize the spell is broken
And we have laid down our wings
Amid stage clothes and make-up
Of course you will know how to skilfully land on your feet
With superb charm and style
You will have calculated this too
Sweet escapism and then home again
The front door, electricity and gas
The usual photos on the fridge and
The thought of being elsewhere
I’m drifting away from you
And joking aside it is the last romantic sacrifice
I’m drifting away from you
From the small charming fragments of sweetness
I realize I’m drifting further and further away from you
Of course I realize the spell has broken
And with nonchalance we dealt with
The brief inevitable epilogue
Sweet escapism and then home again
The front door, electricity and gas
The usual photos on the fridge and
The thought of being elsewhere
I’m drifting away from you
And joking aside it is the last romantic sacrifice
I’m drifting away from you
From the small charming fragments of sweetness
I realize I’m drifting further and further away from you
And joking aside it is the last romantic sacrifice
I’m drifting away from you…
You’ve come to convince me
Or blame me for what I have yet to learn
You have come to take me back sick Orpheus
You give strength and courage to your sublime song
Take me with you don’t look back
Lead me to the light of day
Take me with you don’t leave me
I am blindfolded but already feel the heat
It’s time for me to wake up
It’s time to be reborn
I feel your hands upon me
And it is a warm reminder because
I need to wake up
Take care of you
Come back to life…..
You came to defend me
To free me excessively imposing your obstinacy
You came to take me back
A hero distracted by voices that lead to temptation
Take me with you don’t listen to them
Lead me to the light of day
Take me with you don’t leave me
The way through is near I already feel the warmth
It’s time I woke up
It’s time to be reborn
I feel your hands upon me
And it is a warm reminder because
I need to wake up
It’s time to wake up
Come back to life…..
Come back to life…..
Come back to life…..
Come back to life
On the verge of glory that does not exist
Disenchanted, powerless for having
Lost sight of
Lost sight of
yourself
Hanging on to the cries of a crowd that does not exist
Bitter, disoriented for having
Lost sight of
Lost sight of
Yourself
You’re living in a state of precarious equilibrium
Lying in the shade
Of a life that does not exist
Feeling torment and regret
For having
Lost sight of
Lost sight of
Yourself
You’re living in a state of precarious equilibrium
On the verge of glory that does not exist
Demotivated, dissatisfied for having
Lost sight of
Lost sight of
yourself
Too tired to think
Perhaps I was on the point of understanding something
I can no longer speak
Perhaps because I have nothing more to say
Don’t hate me
Many things to be done
In this inexplicable tangle of intent
I find it difficult to put up with
The terrible unfounded accusations of yesterday
Don’t hate me
Sometimes what’s important is to see yourself as being more beautiful
Just enough to feel the world is close
And not perfect
Enchanting perception
Nighttime brings valuable advice
I don’t know how to control
The inhibited instincts of uncertain logic
Don’t hate me
Sometimes what’s important is to see yourself as being more beautiful
Just enough to feel the world is close
And not perfect
Produced by Francesco Virlinzi
Artistic production: Carmen Consoli
Arrangements: Carmen Consoli, Massimo Roccaforte, Maurizio Nicotra
Recorded by Maurizio Nicotra at Waterbird Studio, Catania
Studio assistant: Cristian Milani
Arches written and directed by Paolo Buonvino, recorded by Fabio Patrignani at Forum Music Village, Roma
Mixed by Fabrizio Simoncioni “Simoncia” at Fonoprint Studio, Bologna
Studio assistant: Stefano Marchioni
Mastered by Antonio Baglio at Nautilus Studio, Milano
Pro Tools® and sound editing: Maurizio Nicotra, except Orfeo and L’epilogo by Roberto Baldi
Wind instruments coordination: Mario Nicotra
Editions Cyclope Records Ed. Musicali / Universal Music Italia s.r.l.