Während des Reinhörens in die My Chemical Romance-Single ähnlichen Namens (die neue CD wächst mir doch trotz poppiger Untertöne langsam ans Herz) bin ich auf diesen wunderbaren Glamrocker gestoßen. Mit Cozy Powell, dem leider zu früh verstorbenen Drum-Gott, an den Kesseln. Falls ihr heute einen mittelalten Mann seht, der orientierungslos und ohne Gefühl für Takt in die Luft trommelt und dazu Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na vor sich hingrummelt - Verständnis aufbringen, das könnte ich sein.
Der Text ist darüber hinaus einfach nur herrlich, wohl die absolute Ode an den trommelnden Mann:
When I was a kid my old man said to me / When you grow up son what cha gonna be? / You gonna go to school and get a degree? / Or you gonna go to work in a factory? / I said Na na na na / I know what I want and I know what I can / And I wanna get a job in a rock'n roll band.
Well, the man at the desk said/ I know how you feel / But how d'ya like a job fixing automobiles / Your card says you got no musical training / I said hey, look man/ You just don't get my meaning / I don't wanna be no guitar star / And the man on the piano works too damn hard / And the bass man he don't cop for no glamour/ I wanna be the man with the fifty pound hammer, going: Na na na na
I know you get your kicks / Playing Hendrix licks / You're a wizard of Wembley Central / You're the J. S. Bach of Belsize park / And me I'm just plain mental / But when I play my boogie / When I play my blues / It's like a whole tank regiment on the move / You can play the notes and you can tell the story
Well, the man at the desk said/ I know how you feel / But how d'ya like a job fixing automobiles / Your card says you got no musical training / I said hey, look man/ You just don't get my meaning / I don't wanna be no guitar star / And the man on the piano works too damn hard / And the bass man he don't cop for no glamour/ I wanna be the man with the fifty pound hammer, going: Na na na na
I know you get your kicks / Playing Hendrix licks / You're a wizard of Wembley Central / You're the J. S. Bach of Belsize park / And me I'm just plain mental / But when I play my boogie / When I play my blues / It's like a whole tank regiment on the move / You can play the notes and you can tell the story
Me I'll just settle for the power and the glory.
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