hósdagur 8. september 2016síða 19

FRÍGGJADAGUR 9. SEPTEMBER 2016 SOSIALURIN 103 19 poppframleiðarunum, hvørs støði her heima snillingar úr Nashville hava lagt, eina áminning um, at country einaferð snúi seg um at fortelja søgur – og ikki um musikalskt reyp. Tað var rátt, ópolerað og við­ brekið, so einasta gjørliga meining varð at hava samhuga. Ein stór løta fyri meg var, tá hann sang – ella rættari fortaldi – Sunday Morning Coming Down – eina løtumynd í lívinum hjá eini vilstari sál, sum fekk sær øl til bæði morgunmat og omaná. Hetta kundi fyri tað verið ein sjálvs­lýsing, eftirsum Kristofferson á yngri árum ikki spýtti í glasið. Well, I woke up Sunday morning With no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt. And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad, So I had one more for dessert. Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes And found my cleanest dirty shirt. Then I washed my face and combed my hair And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day. I’d smoked my mind the night before With cigarettes and songs I’d been picking. But I lit my first and watched a small kid Playing with a can that he was kicking. Then I walked across the street And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken. And Lord, it took me back to something that I’d lost Somewhere, somehow along the way. On a Sunday morning sidewalk, I’m wishing, Lord, that I was stoned. ‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone. And there’s nothing short a’ dying That’s half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down. In the park I saw a daddy With a laughing little girl that he was swinging. And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singing. Then I headed down the street, And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing, And it echoed through the canyon Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday Johnny Cash sang eisini hendan sangin, sum varð nummar eitt á U.S. Billboard Hot Country Singles í 1970. Fólkaognin talar fyri seg sjálva Kris Kristofferson hevur fleiri løg, sum hava verið nógv spæld í Føroyum í eini 40 ár í útvarpi, til veitslur, dans og annað. Á tann hátt hevði hann tað lætt undir konsert­ini. Fólk kendu tónleikin og murraðu við. Kendast munnu vera tey áður nevndu løgini. Men eitt nú Jody and the Kid, From the Bottle to the Bottom, Why Me og For the Good Times eru høgt í metum, tosa vit um greatest hits og fólkaogn. Fyrra settið var hetta: Shipwrecked in the 80s Darby’s Castle Me and Bobby McGee Her Comes That Rainbow Best of All Possible Worlds Help Me Make it Through the Night Casey’s Last Ride Nobody Wins Feeling Mortal From Here to Forever Loving Her Was Easier Síðani kom ein steðgur uppá 20 minuttir. Eg helt, at Kris Kristoffer­ son hevði endað konsertina, tí hann segði onki, tá hann rýmdi av pallinum. Men áhoyr­ar­ar, sum eg tosaði við í steðginum, søgdu mær, at vit høvdu enn eitt sett til góðar: From the Bottle to the Bottom Duvalier’s Dream I’d Rather be Sorry Jody and the Kid Jesus Was a Capricorn The Pilgrim The Wonder To Beat the Devil Sunday Morning Coming Down Silver Tongued Devil For the Good Times Please Don’t Tell me How the Story Ends Why Me Miðskeiðis í seinna setti kom Kelly og hjálpti pápa sínum at syngja onkran sang. Tað lyfti orkustøðið munandi upp. Í síðsta lagnum komu dóttirin og sjeikur hennara upp at hjálpa hinum gamla við at syngja »Why Me«, meðan tey hildu um hvønn annan. Í kærleika.