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Where Is Home?

Bloc Party
Lingua: Inglese


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Alaneme.j
"The words to 'Where is Home?' begin at the funeral of Christopher Alaneme, a black teenager stabbed to death in Kent in April 2006 in a racially motivated attack. Okereke has described him as a "cousin" due to their respective Nigerian mothers being good friends. The track ostracises right-wing newspapers for propounding a hysterical fear of black youths in hoodies, which often leads to opportunities being denied to the Black British community at large"
(en.wikipedia)

"It's to do with the idea of me, as a second generation black person, living in the UK, I don't really feel comfortable, I don't really feel the door of opportunity in this country is open to me. All these articles in the mainstream press - all these images you see of young black kids terrorizing people - are reinforcing the idea of us as The Other."
(Kele Okereke, leader dei Bloc Party)

Christopher Alaneme era un ragazzo di 18 anni, nato in Gran Bretagna da genitori nigeriani. La sua famiglia si era trasferita da Londra a Sheerness, nel Kent, proprio perchè nlella grande e violenta metropoli Christopher aveva già subito intimidazioni di tipo razzista. Un giorno di aprile del 2006, Christopher era intervenuto in difesa di un suo amico, un quattordicenne bianco, che era stato aggredito da tre giovani bianchi. I tre si erano quindi accaniti proprio su Christopher, prima insultandolo ("nigger" e "big black lad") e poi colpendolo più volte a coltellate...
(fonte: Independent)
After the funeral breaking cola nuts
We sit and reminisce about the past
And in her voice only sadness
Her only son taken from her
In every headline we are reminded
That this not home for us
2nd generation blues
Our point of view not listened to
Different worlds and different rules
A question of allegiance
Clinging to her bible and her scapula
And memories of the way things were
I can’t see hope I cannot smile
I just burn with anger all the time
We all read
What they did
To the black
Boy
In every headline we are reminded
That this is not home for us
Where is it?
Where is home?
I walk a modern tight rope
Of humility and belligerence
All this tommy-rot and flag waving
Is just getting me down
I want to stamp on the face of every young policeman
To break the fingers of every old judge
To cut off the feet of every ballerina
But I cannot
So I just sit, and I just sigh
And I pretend
That there's nothing wrong
The teeth of this world
Tear me in half
And everyday I must ask myself
Where is it?
Where is home?

inviata da Alessandro - 18/8/2009 - 16:37



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