Bogdan Wlosik

by Bogdan Wlosik

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  • Digital Album

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1.
03:13
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2.
03:10
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3.
04:31
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4.
04:34
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5.
04:18
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about

This is the official digital version of the first of two 'pop fictions', released in 1984 as a vinyl 12" EP by the Amphibious Records label, catalogue nr. A010. You can read some more about it at
www.harsmedia.com/SoundBlog/Archief/00602.php#00602
There are still some original copies of the vinyl left, which can be obtained via the Amphibious Records Archive website, at
www.harsmedia.com/Amphibious/buyvinyl.html

The first release of 'Bogdan Wlosik' (in a different mix) was a 1983 audio cassette, distributed by the Amsterdam-based Committee Cultural Exchange Warsaw-Amsterdam. The digital album download comes with the artwork of this cassette release and other BW related goodies.

credits

released 01 August 1984
Music by Tim Benjamin, Ronald Heiloo, Harold Schellinx
Lyrics by Ronald Heiloo, Harold Schellinx
Polish translation & vocals by Monica Malewicz

Cadavres exquises by Tim Benjamin, Ronald Heiloo, Harold Schellinx

Recorded: january/march 1983
Mixed july 1984 at WHG Studio, Amsterdam

tags

tags: experimental polish agit-prop alternative elecro-acoustic polit-rock post-experimental post-punk ultra

license

all rights reserved

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discography

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Track Name: Pan Zachodniak
There goes mr. Westerner
you know from fashion-magazines.
He's on vacation, looking for fun.
Dollar-notes bulging from his
pockets.
They're very expensive.
They cost you all your zlotys.
You look at his clothes.
He says you can buy them.
They cost you all your dollars.
He walks on, stinkingly rich,
but dressed inconspicuously.
You've got new clothes
and go back home.
You look in the mirror.
There stands mr. Westerner
you know from fashion-magazines.
You study him carefully,
he disappoints you, really.
You put off your new glasses.
His eyes are bad as yours.
You take of your new shirt.
His belly is fat as yours.
You strip down your new trousers.
Again nothing special to see.
You take off your new shoes.
His feet are damp as yours.
You feel cheated.
You've spent all your money.
You get dressed.
You've got no choice.
You'll have to play the game.
There goes mr. Westerner
you know from fashion-magazines.
Track Name: Robienie Zakupow
Queues, queues, queues, queues,
in front of the shop.
Your turn now.
Tickets.
Bag.
Step
step
step
step
"Stop! Don't push!
Queue up, please!
Wait for your turn.
You know what to do: queues,
queues, queues.
But listen!
We have to close the shop now.
So please leave!
Don't waste your time. Go!
Tomorrow is another day."
Step
step
step.
Home.
Finally done,
and that means shopping.
Finished at last,
and ready for cooking.
Track Name: Zoni Musi Gotowac
"Say neighbour, my wife couldn't get
any groceries today.
Could you spare me some?"
"I'm sorry to say,
but I cannot help you.
We ate all our food,
all our groceries are gone.
You know how things are
with six mouths to feed.
Tickets can't feed eager bellies.
But do come in, sit down,
warm up, have a drink!"
"A small one, dear neighbour,
I'll be on my way soon.
But for now I'll be jolly,
here's cheers to you all!"

"Say cousin, how are you?
It's good to see you in such perfect health.
Say, couldn't you help?
My wife wants to cook dinner,
but our food has all gone.
Please give me some groceries,
I swear you, I will not forget!"
"Hay cousin, do come in and warm up,
but groceries, groceries ...
I can't give you those.
But let us not talk
of all of our problems,
for we're celebrating the birth
of our third little man!
The state made a present,
ten litres of vodka,
so sit down,
join in for a drink!"
"A small one, dear cousin,
I'll be on my way soon.
But for now let's be jolly,
here's cheers to you all!"

"I know it's quite late,
I'm not walking too steady,
but to you, my friend Piotr,
an urgent request.
My wife has to cook still,
the children are waiting:
couldn't you spare me some?"
"You know, dearest friend,
I'd be eager to help you,
if I had anything,
be sure it was yours.
But we ate all our food,
all our groceries are gone.
Just come in, warm up,
have a drink and forget!"
"A small one, dear Piotr,
I'll be on my way soon.
But for now I'll be jolly,
here's cheers to you all!"
Track Name: Janusz Pracuje
Janusz works
deserves his bread
so thinks his wife.
Janusz wakes up
at cock's crows.
Janusz is a factory-worker,
his days are long,
his labours hard.
Janusz deserves his bread,
that's what he thinks.
Today there's no working,
action calls,
friends all talk,
discuss,
together read the
Tygodnik Mazowaze.
Freedom too is Janusz' right.
But freedom asks
a high prize.
The state intervenes,
disturbs a just fight
by brute force.
A burst of panic, chaos,
Janusz flees,
forgets his bread,
the bread that's scarce,
hardly for sale.
He suddenly stops,
it is his right!
Janusz turns around,
clenches his fist:
"Let's not flee,
friends, face
the fight!"
His words are blown
in cries of distress.
Policemen arrest
the worker.
His wife's at home,
and waits.
Track Name: Ballada Pasazerow
Serene fields lie
in spring,
a fresh breeze
blowing through the crops.
The fields wave.

The passengers wave back,
solemnly, their chins raised.
The last scene of a film.
In thousands of dreams
their home-land scatters.

The plane denies frontiers.
Below radar
the passengers fear
not the comrads' machine-guns.
They think of their beloved wives
and their silly fare-well notes.
Bravely they try to fight
hysterical fits of crying
filled with regret and self-pity.

Down under,
in a deserted road,
some party-officials crawl
in Russian caddillacs,
meekly,
through flat curves.

Enough now!
The passengers are furious.
The pilot grasps the steering-gear.
Reality is to return.
No longer this flight
is music to their ears.
No longer can they watch timidly
how a world which is theirs
is beaten to jelly
by the hammers of
a would-be-socialism.