Ummmmmmm…….
Otra rola para mis chican@s, uploaded yesterday. This is El Quinto Sol by chicano band Los Peludos from 1984. This song is hella militant and also a lot of fun to listen to, definitely worth checking out.
“Pero este sol ya se acabó, se está apagando. El gringo opresor ya está temblando. Todo el mundo pobre ya va marchando. Cantemos, hermanos, al nuevo sol!”
CULTURA PROFETICA - NO ME INTERESA [PUERTO RICO, 2005]
“Te vistes de benevolencia pero no eres de dar, eres de acaparar.”
Sorry I haven’t given you guys any new stuff lately! I thought I’d come back with a bang and share this amazing song by Puerto Rican reggae band Cultura Profética (Prophetic Culture), called No Me Interesa (It Doesn’t Interest Me). The lyrics are an explicit rejection of North American colonialism and the destruction of Puerto Rican culture. Lead singer Willy Rodriguez denounces the luxury cars, big-screen TVs, and processed foods in juxtaposition to a different model of development based on respect and dignity. Below are the lyrics with the English translation afterward. Tumblr recently changed something and if I try to paste the lyrics directly it spaces them far too much, and I don’t want to take over your dash if I can avoid it.
“Pero este sol ya se acabó, se esta apagando. El gringo opresor ya está temblando. Todo el mundo pobre ya va marchando. Cantemos hermanos, al nuevo sol.”
Los Peludos, El Quinto Sol (1984)
“But this sun is ending, it is burning out. The gringo oppressor is already trembling. The whole poor world is on the march. Let’s sing, brothers, to the new sun.”
Chicano band Los Peludos compare the destruction of racist white colonialism with the birth of the 5th Sun of Aztec prophecy. I propose that this song become the new anthem for Maoist-Third-Worldists everywhere. Me not being among them. I’ll post it for y’all soon.
GABINO PALOMARES & AMPARO OCHOA - MALDICION DE MALINCHE
Maldición de Malinche, enfermedad del presente
Cuando dejarás mi tierra? Cuando harás libre a mi gente?
I’ve posted this before, but I don’t give a fuck, this is the BEST SONG EVER.
Translated as The Curse of Malinche, the song talks about the history of colonization in the Americas and the subjugation of its native people. La Malinche is the nickname for an indigenous woman that collaborated with the Spaniards and helped them to conquer the Aztecs, earning a notorious historical reputation as a traitor to her people. The curse of Malinche, then, is the legacy of oppression that resulted from her betrayal.
Mexican trovadores Gabino Palomares and Amparo Ochoa, who both have their own renditions of this song on separate albums, perform it together here at the Abril en Managua Central American peace concert in 1983.
“Yo no le digo Tío, Don Samuel, porque hermano de mi Patria usted no es. Y cuando en la mesa del pueblo falta el pan, recuerdo que en la historia claro está que usted lleva gorilas al poder.”
-Ali Primera, Don Samuel. From Primera’s 1981 album, Al Pueblo lo que es de Cesar.
“I won’t call you Uncle, Mr. Sam, because a brother to my homeland you are not. And when the people’s table lacks bread, I remember that throughout history it is clear that you’ve brought monsters to power.”
“Carrying revolvers, grenades, hundreds of false identity cards or bombs, the unveiled Algerian woman moves like a fish in western waters. The soldiers, the French patrols, smile to her as she passes, compliments on her looks are heard here and there, but no one suspects that her suitcases contain the automatic pistol which will presently mow down four or five members of one of the patrols.”
Frantz Fanon, Algeria Unveiled
Picture is from the movie The Battle of Algiers.
ILLAPU - PUERTO RICO, PUERTO POBRE [CHILE IN EXILE, 1984]
“Allí crece el dolor de los que esperan y se desangra un río de lamentos
Es una pobre isla encarcelada, van y vienen los días cenicientos.”
Today I’m continuing my Illapu obsession from a few days ago, and we’re going to listen to a lovely song off the band’s 1984 album from exile, De Libertad y Amor (Of Freedom and Love).
As you might have noticed from the title, this song is about Puerto Rico, the small besieged island dominated by U.S. imperialism. My boricua brothers and sisters, I haven’t forgotten about you! The name of the song, if you don’t speak Spanish, is a play on words; Puerto Rico means “Rich Port” and Puerto Pobre would mean “Poor Port,” contrasting the reality of its colonial status with a name that implies something else. Illapu here refers to Puerto Rico as an “imprisoned island surrounded by suffering,” something which strikes a chord as students at the University of Puerto Rico continue to fight back against severe austerity measures and police repression.
This is one of the better Ilapu albums, featuring some really awesome tracks like Pampa Lirima and another favorite of mine, No Pronuncies Mi Nombre. Illapu started as a very straightforward Andean music ensemble but by the 90s transitioned into a group with more complexity and a very unique sound. This album seems to bridge that divide very well, demonstrating their roots but also showing signs of what was to come.
SPANISH:
Es tarde en esta edad para un principio
Y sin embargo este es mi sentimiento
Aquí una vez, como otras veces salgo
A cantar o a morir aquí comienzo.
Y no hay fuerzas que puedan silenciarme
Salvo la triste magnitud del tiempo
Hizo aliada la muerte con su arado
Para la agricultura de los huesos
Puerto Rico, Puerto Pobre
Tengo elegido un tema caluroso
Con sangre, con palmeras, con silencio
Se trata de una isla rodeada
Por muchas aguas e infinitos muertos
Allí crece el dolor de los que esperan
Y se desangra un río de lamentos
Es una pobre isla encarcelada
Van y vienen los días cenicientos
Puerto Rico, Puerto Pobre
Vuela la luz y vuelve a las palmeras
La noche viaja en su navío negro
Y allí sigue allí está la encarcelada
Isla rodeada por el sufrimiento
ENGLISH:
It is late in this age to have a principle
and yet this is how I feel
Here once, like other times I go
to sing or to die, here I begin.
And there are no forces which can silence me
Except the sad stretch of time
time which brought together death with its plow
for the cultivation of bones.
Puerto Rico, poor Puerto Rico…
I have chosen a heated topic
with blood, with palm trees, with silence
It deals with an island surrounded
by a lot of water and infinite deaths
There grows the pain of those who hope
and a river of sadness bleeds
It is a poor, imprisoned island
the days come and go like ash.
Puerto Rico, poor Puerto Rico…
The light flies and returns to the palm trees
The night travels in its black ship
And there, there remains the imprisoned one,
the island surrounded by suffering.
…punch liberals and pseudo-leftists in their collective face. Seriously y’all, STOP ENDORSING U.S. INTERVENTION IN THE MIDDLE EAST. WE LIVE IN A FUCKING IMPERIALIST COUNTRY, NOTHING POSITIVE CAN COME FROM AMERIKAN INVOLVEMENT. ANYWHERE. EVER.
Latin American revolutionary music, chavismo, Nicaraguan history, and other communist musings.
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