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 Radio KAOS
Èçðàáîòåíî îò Ðîäæúð Óîòúðñ
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Çàáåëåæêà: íå ñúì ñëóøàë Radio KAOS, à ôàéëúò ñ òåêñòîâå, êîéòî èìàì å ëåêî îáúðêàí. Çàòîâà è íå ñúì ðàçäåëèë ïåñíèòå åäíà îò äðóãà. Ìîëÿ çà èçâèíåíèå..
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The Story
Benny is a Welsh coal miner. He is a radio ham. He is 23 years old,
married to Molly. They have a son, young Ben, aged 4, and a new baby.
They look after Benny’s twin brother Billy, who is apparently a
vegetable. The mine is closed by the market forces. The Male Voice
Choir stops singing, the village is dying.
One night Benny takes Billy on a pub crawl. Drunk in a brightly-lit
shopping mall, Benny vents his anger on a shop window full of multiple
TV images of Margaret Thatcher’s mocking condescension. In defiance,
he steals a cordless ‘phone. Later that night, Benny cavorts
dangerously on the parapet of a motorway footbridge, in theatrical
protest at the tabloid press. That same night, a cab driver is killed
by a concrete block dropped off a similar bridge.
The police come to question Benny; he hides the cordless ‘phone under
the cushion of Billy’s wheelchair.
Billy is different, he can receive radio waves directly without the
aid of a tuner; he explores the cordless ‘phone, recognizing its
radioness. Benny is sent to prison. Billy feels as if half of him
has been cut off. He misses Benny’s nightly conversations with radio
hams in foreign parts. Molly, unable to cope, sends Billy to stay
with his Great Uncle David, who had emigrated to the USA during the
war. Much as Billy likes Uncle David and the sunshine and all the new
radio in LA, he cannot adjust to the cultural upheaval and the loss of
Benny, who for him is ‘home’.
Uncle David, now an old man, is haunted by having worked on the
Manhattan project during World War II, designing the Atom Bomb, and
seeks to atone. He also is a radio ham; he often talks to other hams
about the Black Hills of his youth, the Male Voice Choir, about home.
He is saddened by the use of telecommunication to trivialise important
issues, the soap opera of state. However, Live Aid has decynicised
him to an extent. Billy listens to David and hears the truth the old
man speaks.
Billy experiments with his cordless ‘phone, he learns to make calls.
He accesses computers and speech synthesizers, he learns to speak.
Billy makes contact with Jim a DJ at Radio KAOS, a renegade rock
station fighting a lone rear guard action against format radio. Billy
and Jim become radio friends, Reagan and Thatcher bomb Lybia. Billy
perceives this as an act of political “entertainment” fireworks to
focus attention away from problems at “home”.
Billy has developed his expertise with the cordless ‘phone to the
point where he can now control the most powerful computers in the
world. He plans an “entertainment” of his own. He simulates nuclear
attack everywhere, but de-activates the military capability of “the
powers that be” to retaliate. In extremes perceptions change, Panic,
comedy, compassion. In a SAC bunker a soldier in a white cravat turns
a key to launch the counter attack. Nothing happens; impotently he
kicks the console, hurting his foot. He watches the approaching blips
on the radar screen. As impact approaches, he thinks of his wife and
kids, he puts his fingers in his ears.
Silence. White out. Black out. Lights out. It didn’t happen, we’re
still alive. Billy has drained the earth of power to create his
illusion. All over the dark side of the earth, candles are lit. In
the pub in Billy’s home village in Wales one man starts to sing; the
other men join in. The tide is turning.
Billy is home.
Jim: This is K.A.O.S. You and I are listening to KAOS in Los Angeles.
Let’s go to the telephones now and take a request.
Billy: Hello, I’m Billy.
Jim: Yes?
Billy: I hear radio waves in my head.
Jim: You hear radio waves in your head? Ah! Is there a request that
you have tonight for KAOS?
Radio Waves
Radio waves. Radio waves.
He hears radio waves. Radio waves.
The atmosphere is thin and cold
The yellow sun is getting old
The ozone overflows with radio waves
AM, FM, weather and news
Our leaders had a frank exchange of views
Are you confused, radio waves.
Radio waves, radio waves
AM radio waves, FM radio waves
Radio waves, mind-numbing radio waves
Fish-stunning radio waves
Radio waves.
Magic Billy in his wheel chair
Is picking up all this stuff in the air
Billy is face to face with outer space
Messages from distant stars
The local police calling all cars, radio waves
Hear them radio waves, radio waves
Jesus saves radio, radio waves
Radio waves, AM radio waves, FM radio waves
All them radio waves
Radio waves, radio waves, he hears radio waves
Radio waves, radio waves, hopeful radio waves, dopeful radio waves
Radio waves, Russian radio waves, Prussian radio waves
Eastern radio waves, Western radio waves
Testing radio waves, one two. One two.
Radio waves. Getting through to you
More code radio waves, Tobacco road radio waves
South to Paloma radio waves, Oklahoma City radio waves
Sitting pretty radio waves, nitty-gritty radio waves
Radio waves
Jim: Alright, that’s a song called Radio Waves. You are listening to
KAOS in Los Angeles and we’ve got Billy on the line.
Billy: I’m from the valleys.
Jim: You’re from the valley?
Billy: No, Jim you schmuck, the Valleys; male voice choirs, Wales.
Jim: Ah, you’re from Wales! Now is this sperm or blue-tip?
Billy: Ha, ha, ha, ha. Very funny Jim.
Jim: Sorry.
Billy: Me and Benny went out.
Jim: Who’s Benny?
Who Needs Information
Me and Benny went out last night
Looking for fun
Supping ale in the moonlight
Waiting for the dawn to come
Benny pointed at a HiFi shop
He said hey man look at all the stuff they’ve got
How’d you make a have out of a have not
Hmmmm.
Who needs information
When you’re working underground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a million pounds
Benny climbed up on a footbridge
And he teetered on the parapet
He said can you see the whites of their headlights
Are they coming yet
Who needs information
This high off the ground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a million pounds
Who needs information
When you’re living in constant fear
Just give me confirmation
There’s some way out of here
Some way out of here
Benny hefted a breeze block
And tried to let go
Got hung up on a tear drop
So me and Benny went home
Who needs information
When you’re living in constant fear
Just give me confirmation
There’s some way out of here
Some way out of here
Who needs information yeah
When you’re living on borrowed time
Just give me confirmation
There will be a winner this time
Who needs information when you’re working underground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a million pounds
Who needs, who needs, who needs information
This high off the ground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a million pounds - yeah
Jim: Um. So your brother’s in jail?
Me or Him
You wake up in the morning, get something for the pot
Wonder why the sun makes the rocks feel hot
Draw on the walls, eat, get laid
Back in the good old days
Then some damn fool invents the wheel
Listen to the whitewalls squeal
You spend all day looking for a parking spot
Nothing for the heart, nothing for the pot
Benny turned the dial on his Short Wave radio
Oh how he wanted to talk to the people,
he wanted his own show
Tune in Moscow. Tune in New York
Listen tot the Welsh kid talk
Communicating like in the good old days
Forgive me father for I have sinned
It was either me or him
And a voice said Benny
You fucked the whole thing up
Benny your time is up
Your time is up
Benny turned the dial on his Short Wave radio
He wanted to talk to the people
He wanted his own show
Tune in Moscow. Tune in New York
Listen to the Welsh kid talk communicating
Like in the good old days
Forgive me Father
Welsh Policeman: Mobile One Two to Central.
For I have sinned
Welsh Policeman: We have a multiple on the A465
between Cwmbran and Cylgoch.
Father it was either me or him.
Father can we turn back the clock?
Welsh Policeman: Ambulance, over.
I never meant to drop the concrete block.
Welsh Policeman: Roger central, over and out.
Benny turned the dial on his Short Wave radio
He wanted to talk to the people
He wanted his own show
Tune in Moscow. Tune in New York
Listen to the Welsh kid talk
Just like in the good old days
The good old days
Radio announcer: Do you really think Iranian terrorists
would have taken Americans hostage if Ronald Reagan
were president? Do you really think the Russians
would have invaded Afghanistan if Ronald Reagan were
president? Do you really think third-rate military
dictators would laugh at America and burn our flag in
contempt if Ronald Reagan were president?
Concerned Citizen: Well, it might work!
Hostage: We as a group do most importantly want to beseech
President Reagan and our fellow Americans to refrain
from any form of military or violent means as an attempt,
no matter how noble or heroic, to secure our freedom.
Concerned Citizen: Sure! Only it’s going to be mighty dangerous
for you, Cassidy
Hoppy’s faithful sidekick: guess you don’t know Hopalong Cassidy,
Mister. Adventure’s his bread, excitement’s his butter
and danger, why to him that’s like strawberry jam to
top it off.
Jim: This is some live rock and roll at KAOS, where rock and roll
comes out of chaos and a song called “The Powers that Be”
The Powers That Be
The powers that be
They like a tough game
No rules
Some you win, some you lose
Competition’s good for you
They’re dying to be free
They’re the powers that be
They like a bomb proof cadillac
Air conditioned, gold taps,
Back seat gun rack, platinum hub caps
They pick horses for courses
They’re the market forces
Nice car Jack
They like order, make-up, lime light power
Game shows, rodeos, star wars, TV
They’re the powers that be
If you see them come,
You better run - run
You better run on home
Sisters of mercy better join your brothers
Put a stop to the soap opera right now
They say the toothless get ruthless
You better run on home
You better run - run
You better run on home
The powers that be
They like treats, tricks, carrots and sticks
They like fear and loathing, they like sheep’s clothing
And blacked-out vans
Blacked-out vans, contingency plans
They like death or glory, they love a good story
They love a good story
Sisters of mercy better join with your brothers
Put a stop to the soap opera state
They say the toothless get ruthless
Run home before its too late
You better run - run
You better run on home
Billy: Goodnight, Jim.
Jim: Goodnight, Billy.
Uncle David’s Great Dane: Woof, woof, woof!
The canyon - daytime. Billy plays with Great Uncle David’s Great Dane.
Paraquat Kelly: Bull heads, three red snapper, one pink snapper
and your Pacific coastal trench hosemonster fish.
Cynthia Fox: Ohhh! At Sky David’s juke joint of joy reports,
forty under the console giggle stick ling cod,
twenty-three purple perches four sledgehammerhead sharks,
and what a surprise, eightyfour crabs, and no red snappers.
Paraquat Kelly: Hey, and that’ll do for the triumphant return
of the fish report with a beat.
Jim: We think of it as mainstreet, but to the rest of the country
it’s Sunset Strip. You’re listening to KAOS in Los Angeles.
Sunset Strip
I like staying with my Uncle Dave
And I like playing with his great dane
But I don’t fit
I feel alien and strange Kinda outa range
I like riding in my Uncle’s car
Down to the beach where the pretty girls all parade
And movie stars and paparazzi play
The Charles Atlas kicking sand in the face game
And I sit in the canyon with my back to the sea
There’s a blood red dragon on a field of green
Calling me back
Back to the Black Hills again
Ooh, ooh, Billy come home
Billy is searching for his native land
Flicking through the stations with the dial in his head
Picking up ——————— and
A male voice choir on the short wave band
Billy taps out Jim’s number on the ‘phone
Sits shaking as he waits for Jim’s answering tone
Come on my friend, speak to me please
The land of my fathers is calling to me
And I sit in the canyon with my back to the sea
There’s a blood red dragon on a field of green
Calling me back, back to the Black Hills again
Ooh, ooh, Billy come home
Come on home
He sits in the canyon with his back to the sea
Sees a blood red dragon on a field of green
He hears a male voice choir singing Billy come home
Billy, Billy, come home
Come on home
Californian Weirdo: I don’t like fish.
Jim: You are listening to KAOS here in Los Angeles.
Californian Weirdo: I don’t like fish.
Jim: Yes, we’ve established that. Ah! Do you have a request?
Californian Weirdo: Shell fish, guppy, salmon, shrimp and crab
and lobster, flounder.I hate fish, but I think most of
all I hate fresh fish, like trout. I hate fresh trout.
My least-hated, favourite fish would be sole. That way
you don’t have to see the eyes. Sole has no eyes.
Jim: Oh no!
Californian Weirdo: I’d like to be home with my monkey and my dog
Jim: Thankyou.
Californian Weirdo: I’d like to be home with my monkey and my dog
I’d like to be home with my monkey and my dog
I’d like to be home with my monkey ...
Jim: They don’t care. Shut up. Play the record.
Home
Jim: Oh, God!
Californian Weirdo: Sole has no eyes.
Could be Jerusalem, or it could be Cairo
Could be Berlin, or it could be Prague
Could be Moscow, could be New York
Could be Llanelli, and it could be Warrington
Could be Warsaw, and it could be Moose Jaw
Could be Rome
Everybody got somewhere they call home
When they overrun the defences
A minor invasion put down to expenses
Will you go down to the airport lounge
Will you accept your second class status
A nation of waitresses and waiters
Will you mix their martinis
Will you stand still for it
Or will you take to the hills
It could be clay and it could be sand
Could be desert
Could be a tract of arable land
Could be a house, could be a corner shop
Could be a cabin by a bend in the river
Could be something your old man handed down
Could be something you built on your own
Everybody got something he calls home
When the cowboys and Arabs draw down
On each other at noon
In the cool dusty air of the city boardroom
Will you stand by a passive spectator
Of the market dictators
Will you discreetly withdraw
With your ear pressed to the boardroom door
Will you hear when the lion within you roars
Will you take to the hills
Will you stand, will you stand for it
Will you hear, ohhhh! ohhh! when the lion within you roars
Could be your father and it could be your mother
Could be your sister, could be your brother
Could be a foreigner, could be a Turk
Could be a cyclist out looking for work. Norman
Could be a king, could be the Aga khan
Could be a Vietnam vet with no arms and no legs
Could be a saint, could be a sinner
Could be a loser or it could be a winner
Could be a banker, could be a baker
Could be a Laker, could be Kareem Abdul Jabar
Could be a male voice choir
Could be a lover, could be a fighter
Could be a super heavyweight, or it could be
something lighter
Could be a cripple, could be a freak
Could be a wop, gook, geek
Could be a cop, could be a thief
Could be a family of ten living in one room on relief
Could be our leaders in their concrete tombs
With their tinned food and their silver spoons
Could be the pilot with God on his side
Could be the kid in the middle of the bomb sight
Could be a fanatic, could be a terrorist
Could be a dentist, could be a psychiatrist
Could be humble, could be proud
Could be a face in the crowd
Could be the soldier in the white cravat
Who turns the key in spite of the fact
That this is the end of the cat and mouse
Who dwelt in the house
Where the laughter rang and the tears were spilt
The house that Jack built
Where the laughter rang and the tears were spilt
The house that Jack built
Bang, bang, shoot, shoot
White gloved thumb, Lord thy will be done
He was always a good boy his mother said
He’ll do his duty when he’s grown, yeah
Everybody’s got someone they call home
Four Minutes
Billy: Four minutes and counting.
Jim: O.K.
Billy: They pressed the button, Jim.
Jim: They pressed the button Billy, what button?
Billy: The big red one.
Jim: You mean THE button?
Billy: Goodbye, Jim.
Jim: Goodbye! Oh yes. This ain’t au revoir, it’s goodbye! Ha! Ha!
Jim: This is KAOS. It’s a beautiful, balmy, Southern
California summer day. It’s 80 degrees ... I said
balmy ... I could say bomby ... Ha! Ha! ...O.K.
I’m Jim and this is Radio KAOS and with only four
minutes left to us, let’s use this as wisely as possible.
Molly: Everybody got someone they call home.
Jim: Out at Dodger Stadium. It’s the bottom of the seventh, the
Dodgers are leading three to nothing over the Giants, and
for those of you who are looking to go surfing tomorrow,
too bad.
(Telephone rings)
Jim: I’m kinda lost in here to tell you the truth ... O.K. good.
Ladies and gentlemen, if the reports that we are getting
are correct, this could be it. Billy, if you’re
listening to me, please call now.
After a near miss on the plane
You swear you’ll never fly again
After the first kiss when you make up
You swear you’ll never break up again
And when you’ve just run a red light
Sit shaking under the street light
You swear to yourself you’ll never drink and drive again
Sometimes I feel like going home
You swear you’ll never let things go by again.
Sometimes I miss the rain and snow
And you’ll never toe the party line again
And when the east wind blows
Sometimes I feel like going home
Jim: Billy, if you are listening, please call.
Californian Weirdo: Sole has no eyes.
Molly: Goodbye little spy in the sky.
They say that cameras don’t lie.
Am I happy, am I sad, am I good, am I bad?
Jim: Billy, if you’re listening, please call.
Californian Weirdo: Sole has no eyes, sole has no eyes
Billy: Ten, nine, eight, seven
Margaret Thatcher: Our own independent nuclear deterrent has
helped to keep the peace.
Billy: Six, five four, three,
Ordinary Person: ...you’ve go a job...
Billy: Two, one,
Margaret Thatcher: For nearly forty years
Jim: Goodbye Billy.
The Tide is Turning (After Live Aid)
I used to think the world was flat
Rarely threw my hat into the crowd
I felt I had used up my quota of yearning
Used to look in on the children at night
In the glow of their Donald Duck light
And frighten myself with the thought of my little ones burning
But oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning
Satellite buzzing through the endless night
Exclusive to moonshots and world title fights
Jesus Christ imagine what it must be earning
Who is the strongest, who is the best
Who holds the aces, the East or the West
This is the crap our children are learning
But oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Now the satellite’s confused
‘Cos on Saturday night
The airwaves were full of compassion and light
And his silicon heart warmed
To the sight of a billion candles burning
Oo, oo, oo, the tide is turning
Oo, oo, oo, the tide is turning
The tide is turning Billy
I’m not saying that the battle is won
But on Saturday night all those kids in the sun
Wrested technology’s sword from the hand of the
War Lords
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning Sylvester
The tide is turning.
“That’s it!”
[Morse Code:]
“Now the past is over but you are not alone
Together we’ll fight Sylvester Stallone
We will not be dragged down in his South China Sea
of macho bullshit and mediocrity”
îáðàòíî ãîðå
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