Aus gegebenem Anlass, schließlich weist der Kalender ab heute den Ährenmonat aka. den achten Monat im gregorianischen Jahreskalender aus: der Quasi-Titelsong
Quasi? Japp, allein schon deshalb, weil die Mannen um Sänger Adam Duritz sich schlapp-knappe 26 (!) Jahre Zeit gelassen haben, um den titelgebenden Song zu ebenjenem Werk zu vollenden beziehungsweise nachzureichen. Aber: Auch ein Vierteljahrhundert später klingt das mit beinahe zehn Minuten gewohnt elegische Stück, das die Rockband aus San Francisco mitsamt eines Orchesters in den Londoner AIR Studios fertig stellte, so melancholisch-verträumt, so bildmalerisch, dass man unweigerlich an ganz ähnliche Großtaten wie „Round Here„, „Raining In Baltimore“ oder „Another Horsedreamer’s Blues“ denken muss. Und natürlich singt Adam Duritz einmal mehr von „Elvis“ und „Maria“…
“I never really thought much about this song back in the day because it wasn’t finished,” Duritz said in a statement. “But when we got the chance to work with [composer] Vince Mendoza, I thought it was a good time to rewrite it and get it right. He came up with really interesting arrangement — not the whole band or the whole orchestra but parts of each — drums, bass, and pedal steel from us plus the string section and one cor anglais (kinda like a big oboe) from the [London Studio Orchestra]. It was magic recording it at AIR Studios in London. You can just feel the cool when you listen.”
(Adam Duritz)
„They’re wakin‘ up Maria, ‚cause everybody else has got some place to go
She makes a little motion with her head
Rolls over, and says she’s gonna sleep for a couple minutes more
Said, I’m sorry to Maria for a the cold-hearted thing that I have done
I’ve said, I’m sorry by now at least once
To just about everyone
She says: ‚I’ve forgotten what I’m supposed to do today‘
And it slips my mind what I’m supposed to say
We’re getting older and older and older and older
And always a little further out of the way
You look into her eyes, it’s more than your heart will allow
And August and everything after
You get a little less than you expected, somehow
Well, I stumbled into Washington Square, just as the sun began to rise
And I walked across on the lawn to the cathedral
And I lay down and the shadow of St. Mary’s in the sky
I’m just one of these late model children waiting for the king
There ain’t no sign of Elvis in San Francisco
It’s just me, and I’m playin‘ this rock and roll thing
She wants to be just like me and I want every damn thing that I can see
You know, one day you’re Daddy’s little angel
The next day, you’re everything he wanted you to be
They dress you up in white satin
And they give you your very own pair of wings
In August and everything after, I’m after everything
Well, I got my reservations
And I got my seven-million dollar home
I got, I got the number of some girl in North Dakota
Who’s always wide awake so I never have to spend the night alone
I got a nasty little habit
Of peekin‘ down the shirts of all the little girls as they pass me by
And I know you wonder when it all catches up to me
And they finally bring me down, do you think I’m gonna cry?
Well listen, I already got my disease
So get your fuckin‘ filthy hands off of me
I hope you weren’t expecting to be crucified
The best that they can do, is just to hang me from the nearest tree
Yeah, it’s midnight in San Francisco
And I am waiting here for Jesus on my knees
And August and everything after
I need somebody else to bleed for me
Yeah, and August and everything after
I need somebody else to bleed for me
Well, I came down from San Francisco
‚cause I had confidence and a military mind
And now everyone I know is turning showgirl
And dancing with their shirt off in some Las Vegas hotel line
So I’m going‘ to Now York city ‚cause it got a little sleazy here for me
And when I find myself a lawyer and no I’m never going home
You make the changes, the changes that you need
But I no longer know how to pray
I live in a dog town and it’s a Dalmatian parade
I change my spots over and over but they never seem to fade away
I am the last remaining Indian
Looking for the place where the buffalo roam
In August and everything after
Man, them buffalo ain’t never coming home, no
In August and everything after
Man, them buffalo ain’t, they ain’t never coming home, no
In August and everything after
Man, them buffalo ain’t never coming home“
Rock and Roll.
ANEWFRIEND 