[EXCLU] Courtney Barnett : album en écoute en avant-première

Un mini-tube (la géniale Avant Gardener, histoire tordante d’une crise d’asthme et grande chanson de rock laidback), deux premiers maxis regroupés sous le nom de The Double EP: A Sea of Split Peas, et une évidence s’est imposée, claire comme une épiphanie : avec ses textes fantastiques, intimes, hilarants et acides, ciselés avec un soin maniaque, avec ses mélodies collantes comme des roudoudous, avec sa voix de copine instantanée, avec son rock faussement slacker, hommage moderne à ses héros du rock indé 90s, l’Australienne Courtney Barnett devenait instantanément l’une de nos plus chères chouchoutes.

            {"type":"Pave-Haut2-Desktop"}
          

La parution la semaine prochaine de son véritable premier album, Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit, renforcera encore un peu l’admiration que l’on porte à son songwriting génial. Album rock très efficace et très variable, grande collection de petites histoires contées avec l’acuité rare des grands raconteurs sociaux ou intimes, Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit est une merveille, aussi excitante par son électricité en montagne russe que par ses mots.

Une merveille qui ne sortira que la semaine prochaine mais qui est en écoute en avant-première ici-même, dès aujourd’hui. Et puisque chez Barnett, les mots comptent au moins autant que la musique, les paroles de l’album, en Anglais, sont également reproduites ici : de quoi apprendre les paroles par cœur avant son concert parisien, le 25 mars au Divan du Monde, dans le cadre du festival Les Femmes s’en Mêlent.

Elevator Operator
Oliver Paul, twenty years old, thick head of hair worries he’s going bald. Wakes up at a quarter past nine, fair evades his way down the 96 tram line. Breakfast on the run again, he’s well aware he’s dropping soy linseed vegemite crumbs everywhere. Feeling sick at the sight of his computer, he dodges his way through the Swanston commuters. Rips off his tie, hands it to a homeless man sleeping in the corner of a metro bus stand. He screams “I’m not going to work today! Gonna count the minutes that the trains run late, sit on the grass building pyramids out of Coke cans.”

Headphone wielding to the Nicholas building, he trips on a pothole that’s not been filled in. He waits for an elevator (one to nine) a lady walks in and waits by his side. Her heels are high and her bag is snakeskin, hair pulled so tight you can see her skeleton. Vickers perfume on her breath, a tortoise-shell necklace between her breasts. She looks him up and down with her botox frown, he’s well used to that look by now. The elevator dings and they awkwardly step in, their fingers touch on the rooftop button…

“Don’t jump little boy, don’t jump off that roof! You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, you’re still in your youth. I’d give anything to have skin like you.”

He said “ I think you’re projecting the way that you’re feeling. I’m not suicidal just idling insignificantly. I come up here for perception and clarity, I like to imagine I’m playing Sim City. All the people look like ants from up here, and the wind’s the only traffic you can hear” he said “All I ever wanted to be was an Elevator Operator can you help me please?”

Pedestrian At Best
I love you I hate you I’m on the fence it all depends whether I’m up, I’m down, I’m on the mend transcending all reality. I like you, despise you, admire you, what are we gonna do when everything all falls through?

I must confess I’ve made a mess of what should be a small success but I digress at least I’ve tried my very best I guess. This that the other why even bother? It wont be with me on my death bed but I’ll still be in your head. Put me on a pedestal and I’ll only disappoint you. Tell me I’m exceptional I promise to exploit you. Give me all your money and I’ll make some origami, honey. I think you’re a joke but I don’t find you very funny…My internal monologue is saturated analogue its scratched and drifting I’ve become attached to the idea its all a shifting dream, bittersweet philosophy I’ve got no idea how I even got here. I’m resentful I’m having an existential time crisis what bliss daylight savings wont fix this mess. Underworked and over-sexed I must express my disinterest, the rats are back inside my head what would Freud have said?

I wanna wash out my head with turpentine, cyanide, I dislike this internal diatribe, when I try to catch your eye I hate seeing your crying in the kitchen I don’t know why it affects me like this when you’re not even mine to consider. Erroneous, harmonious, I’m hardy sanctimonious. Dirty clothes I suppose we all outgrow ourselves. I’m a fake, I’m a phoney I’m awake I’m alone honey I’m a scorpio.

An Illustration of Loneliness (Sleepless in New York)
I lie awake at four, staring at the wall, counting all the cracks backwards in my best French. Reminds me of a book I skim-read in a surgery all about palmistry.

I wonder what’s in store for me. I pretend the plaster is the skin on my palms, and the cracks are representative of what is going on. I lose a breath… my love-line seems entwined with death (could be a spider-web)… I’m thinking of you too.

I lie awake at three staring at the ceiling, it’s kind of off-white… maybe it’s a cream. There’s oily residue dripping from the ceiling. It’s art-deco necromantic chic all the dinner plates are kitsch with Irish Wolf Hounds, French baguettes wrapped loose around their necks. I think I’m hungry… I’m thinking of you too.

Wondering what you’re doing, what you’re listening to, which quarter of the moon you’re viewing from your bedroom. Watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies, swimming at the pool… I’m thinking of you too.

Small Poppies
I stare at the lawn. It’s a Wednesday morning. It needs a cut. But I leave it growing. All different sizes and all shades of green. Slashing it down just seems kind of mean… In a way it’s a shame you get away thinking it’s just a game. Who am I to deny myself a pawn for you to use? At the end of the day it’s a pain that I keep seeing your name, but I’m sure it’s a bore being you. I don’t know quite who I am oh but man I am trying. I make mistakes until I get it right. An eye for an eye for an eye for an eye for an eye, I don’t agree with that, why can’t we just talk nice? Oh! The calamity, I wanna go to sleep for an eternity. Who am I to deny myself a pawn? Oh! The humanity I wanna disappear into obscurity. But I’m sure it’s a bore being you. I don’t know quite who I am, oh but man I am trying. I make mistakes until I get it right. An eye for an eye etc. I used to hate myself but now I think I’m alright/I dreamed I stabbed you with a coat hanger wire.

Depreston
You said “we should look out further”, I guess it wouldn’t hurt us, we don’t need to be around all these coffee shops. Now we’ve got that percolator, never made a latte greater. I’m saving $23 a week. We drive to a house in Preston, we see police arresting a man with his hand in a bag. How’s that for first impressions! This place seems depressing, it’s a Californian bungalow in a cul-de-sac. It’s got a lovely garden, a garage for two cars to park in, “or a lot of room for storage if you’ve got just one”. And its going pretty cheap you say? “Well it’s a deceased estate… aren’t the pressed-metal ceilings great?” Then I see the hand-rail in the shower, a collection of those canisters for coffee, tea, and flour, and a photo of a young man in a van in Vietnam. I can’t think of floor-boards anymore, whether the front room faces South or North and I wonder what she bought it for… “If you’ve got a spare half a million, you could knock it down and start re-building”

Aqua Profunda!
I saw you in the lane next to me. You were doing freestyle, then you switched it around to a little bit of backstroke. I couldn’t see you underneath your swimming cap, but it appeared that you had dark coloured hair, maybe it was blonde for all I know… I had goggles on, they were getting foggy. I much prefer swimming to jogging. I tried my very best to impress you, held my breath longer than I normally do… I was getting dizzy, my hair was wet and frizzy. Felt my muscles burn, I took a tumble turn for the worse, it’s a curse my lack of athleticism… sunk like a stone. Like a first owners home loan. When I came to, you and your towel were gone.

Dead Fox
Jen insists that we buy organic vegetables and I must admit that I was a little sceptical at first a little pesticide can’t hurt. Never having too much money I get the cheap stuff at the supermarket but they’re all pumped up with shit, a friend told me that they stick nicotine in the apples.

If you can’t see me I can’t see you.

Heading down the Highway Hume somewhere at the end of June, taxidermied kangaroos are littered on the shoulders, a possum Jackson Pollock is painted on the tar. Sometimes I think a single sneeze could be the end of us, my hay-fever is turning up, just swerved into a passing truck. Big business over-taking, without indicating, he passes on the right, been driving through the night to bring us the best price.

If you can’t see me I can’t see you.

More people die on the road than they do in the ocean maybe we should mull over culling cars instead of sharks or just lock them up in parks where we can go and view them. There’s a bypass over Holbrook now, paid for with burgers no doubt. I’ve lost count of all the cows there’ll be no salad sandwiches, the law of averages says that we’ll stop in the next town, where the petrol price is down… what do I know anyhow?

Nobody Really Cares If You Don’t Go To The Party
You always get what you want, and you don’t even try. Your friends hate it when it’s always going your way but I’m glad that you’ve got luck on your side. You’re saying definitely maybe… I’m saying probably no. You say “you sleep when you’re dead” I’m scared I’ll die in my sleep. I guess that not a bad way to go. I wanna go out but I wanna stay home. Why are you so eager to please? I wear my heart on my sleeve. Gets harder in the winter gotta be a fake or shiver. It takes a great deal out of me. Yes I like hearing your stories but I’ve heard them all before. I’d rather stay in bed with the rain over my head than have to pick my brain up off of the floor. I wanna go out but I wanna stay home.

Debbie Downer
Tell me when you’re getting bored and I’ll leave. I’m not the one who put the chain around your feet. I’m sorry for all of my insecurities but they’re just part of me. “Envy is thin because it bites but never eats” that’s what a nice old Spanish lady once told me. “Hey Debbie-Downer turn that frown upside down and just be happy”. I don’t ask too much of you its true and I cant read your mind.

Don’t stop listening I’m not finished yet. I’m not fishing for your compliments.

I’m growing older every time I blink my eyes; boring, neurotic, every thing that I despise. WE had some lows we had some mids we had some highs…

Sell me all your golden rules ad I’ll see if that’s the kind of person that I wanna be. If I’m not happy I’ll be glad I kept receipts. I won’t ask too much of you, I used to wonder what to wear.

Don’t stop listening I’m not finished yet. I’m not fishing for your compliments.

Kims Caravan
Watermarks on the ceiling, I can see Jesus and he’s frowning at me. I see a dead seal on the beach the old man says he’s “already saved it three times this week. Guess it just wants to die… I would wanna die too, with people putting oil into my air but to be fair I’ve done my share, guess everybody’s got their different point of view.” I was walking down Sunset Strip (Phillip Island, not Los Angeles). Got me some hot chips and a cool drink, took a sandy seat on the shore. There’s a paper on the ground it makes my headache quite profound as I read it out aloud. It said “The Great Barrier Reef it ain’t so great anymore, it’s been raped beyond belief, the dredgers treat it like a whore.”

I drank till I was sinking, sank till I was thinking that I’m thankful for this view. We either think that we’re invincible or that we are invisible when realistically we’re somewhere in between. We all think that we are nobody but everybody is somebody else’s somebody… don’t ask me what I really mean I am just a reflection of what you really wanna see, so take what you want from me. Satellites on the ceiling, I can see Jesus and she’s smiling at me. All I wanna say is…

Boxing Day Blues
I know that I let you down. You’re not keen on what you found. When’s the funeral? Do you want me to come? I’m not what you’re looking for, my house has an open door. You need a lock and a key. I love all of your ideas, you love the idea of me… Lover I’ve got no idea.