Quote:
|
Dance and Dense Denso, the third album by Molotov, Mexico’s most controversial band, has a title that translates as "dance and punch yourself." That same-named track not only kicks off the album but also neatly reflects the band’s punk-rock philosophy, which is musically hard-edged and lyrically sarcastic as hell. The album also features Molotov’s strongest material since their ’97 debut, ¿Dónde Jugáran las Niñas? "Here We Kum" is a head-banging yet danceable number that features a hilarious chorus: "Here we kum, and we don’t care mucho!" "E. Charles White" sounds like attendance being read in class, except the hyphenated surnames—which sound like they belong to make-believe Mexican aristocrats—are all sophisticated jokes that don’t make any sense unless you speak Mexico City slang. Fortunately, half the lyrics on the album’s best track, "Frijolero," are in English. Spanish for "beaner," "Frijolero" is a protest song in the same style as Sly Stone’s "Don’t Call Me Nigger, Whitey." With "Frijolero," Molotov pays homage to illegal immigrants and paints those who crusade against wetbacks as the ignorant racists they are. But that overtly political message is softened by Molotov’s sense of humor, which blossoms in the song’s tirade-filled chorus: "Don’t call me a gringo, you fuckin’ beaner/Stay on your side of that goddamn river," they sneer. Then they hit back with the only possible answer: "No me llames frijolero, pinche gringo puñetero. Chingado!!"—or "Don’t call me beaner, you fuckin’ gringo idiot. Fucker!"
|
Band/Artist: Molotov
Album: Dance and Dense denso
Song: Frijolero
Lyrics:
[CENTER]Yo ya estoy hasta la madre
de que me pongan sombrero
escucha entonces cuando digo
no me llames frijolero.
Y aunque exista algún respeto
y no metamos las narices
nunca inflamos la moneda
haciendo guerra a otros países.
Te pagamos con petróleo
e intereses nuestra deuda
mientras tanto no sabemos
quien se queda con la feria.
Aunque nos hagan la fama
de que somos vendedores
de la droga que sembramos
ustedes son consumidores.
Don't call me gringo,
You fuckin beaner
stay on your side
of that goddamn river
don't call me gringo,
You beaner.
No me digas beaner,
Mr. Puñetero
Te sacaré un susto
por racista y culero.
No me llames frijolero,
Pinche gringo puñetero.
Now I wish I had a dime
for every single time
I've gotten stared down
For being in the wrong side of town.
And a rich man I'd be
if I had that kind of chips
lately I wanna smack the mouths
of these racists.
Podrás imaginarte desde afuera,
ser un Mexicano cruzando la frontera,
pensando en tu familia mientras que pasas,
dejando todo lo que conoces atrás.
Si tuvieras tú que esquivar las balas
de unos cuantos gringos rancheros
Las seguirás diciendo good for nothing wetback?
si tuvieras tú que empezar de cero.
Now why don't you look down
to where your feet is planted
That U.S. soil that makes you take shit for granted
If not for Santa Ana, just to let you know
That where your feet are planted would be Mexico
Correcto!
(repeat italics)[/CENTER]
javascript
:OpenPortalContentWin(168569, 400, 550, '168569_frijolero.swf', 'Frijolero(Beaner)', 0);
http://www.ocweekly.com/printme.php?eid=42964