Tracy Chapman comenzó desde muy joven a componer sus propias canciones y a tocar en las calles de Harvard Square, en cafés y pubs. Pero fue en 1988, al participar en un concierto homenaje a Nelson Mandela, cuando se dio a conocer internacionalmente. Ese mismo año creó su primer álbum “Tracy Chapman”, que fue galardonado con cuatro Grammy. En 1989 lanza “Crossroad”, su disco más comprometido al que pertenece la canción Subcity. En ella se recoge una reflexión sobre la situación en la que se encuentran muchas personas que viven y trabajan por debajo de la sociedad. Personas excluidas que pasan desapercibidas y que no pueden alzar su voz en pro de la justicia. Frases como “I guess I'm lucky to be alive” reflejan la dureza de la situación en la que “sobreviven”, que aumenta cuando pasan a ser invisibles en un mundo que parece irreal pero que forma parte del nuestro; solo hay que querer verlo.
Subcity
People say it doesn't exist
'Cause no one would like to admit
That there is a city underground
Where people live everyday
Off the waste and decay
Off the discards of their fellow man
Here in subcity life is hard
We can't recieve any government relief
I'd like to give Mr. President my honest regards
For disregarding me
They say there's too much crime in these city streets
My sentiments exactly
Government and big buisness hold the purse strings
When I worked I worked in the factory
I'm at the mercy of the world
I guess I'm lucky to be alive
They say we've fallen through the cracks
They say the system works
But we won't let it
Help
I guess they never stop to think
We might not just want handouts
But a way to make an honest living
Living this ain't living
What did I do to deserve this
Had my trust in god
Worked everyday of my life
Thought I had some guarantees
That's what I thought
At least that's what I thought
Last night I had another restless sleep
Wondering what tomorrow might bring
Last night I dreamed
A cold blue light was shining down on me
I screamed myself awake
Thought I must be dying
Thought I must be dying
'Cause no one would like to admit
That there is a city underground
Where people live everyday
Off the waste and decay
Off the discards of their fellow man
Here in subcity life is hard
We can't recieve any government relief
I'd like to give Mr. President my honest regards
For disregarding me
They say there's too much crime in these city streets
My sentiments exactly
Government and big buisness hold the purse strings
When I worked I worked in the factory
I'm at the mercy of the world
I guess I'm lucky to be alive
They say we've fallen through the cracks
They say the system works
But we won't let it
Help
I guess they never stop to think
We might not just want handouts
But a way to make an honest living
Living this ain't living
What did I do to deserve this
Had my trust in god
Worked everyday of my life
Thought I had some guarantees
That's what I thought
At least that's what I thought
Last night I had another restless sleep
Wondering what tomorrow might bring
Last night I dreamed
A cold blue light was shining down on me
I screamed myself awake
Thought I must be dying
Thought I must be dying
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario