-Ðóáðèêè

 -Ïîèñê ïî äíåâíèêó

Ïîèñê ñîîáùåíèé â Lisbeta

 -Ïîäïèñêà ïî e-mail

 

 -Èíòåðåñû


Ñóïåðõèò íà âñå âðåìåíà. ABBA «Happy New Year»

Âòîðíèê, 30 Äåêàáðÿ 2014 ã. 00:07 + â öèòàòíèê
Öèòàòà ñîîáùåíèÿ Dmitry_Shvarts Ñóïåðõèò íà âñå âðåìåíà. ABBA «Happy New Year»


Èñòîðèÿ ïåñíè “Happy New Year”, êîòîðàÿ ñåé÷àñ ÿâëÿåòñÿ îäíîé èç ïîïóëÿðíåéøèõ íîâîãîäíèõ êîìïîçèöèé, ñêëàäûâàëàñü íå òàê ãëàäêî, êàê ìîæíî áûëî áû ïîäóìàòü. Îíà âîçíèêëà èç øóòî÷íîãî òðåêà, íàïèñàííîãî ìóçûêàíòàìè èç ABBA äëÿ íåðåàëèçîâàííîãî ïðîåêòà, à çàòåì åé ïîíàäîáèëîñü ïî÷òè äåñÿòü ëåò, ÷òîáû ñòàòü ìåæäóíàðîäíûì õèòîì. Íå âñå çíàþò, ÷òî òåêñò ïåñíè, áåç êîòîðîé ðåäêî îáõîäèòñÿ âñòðå÷à Íîâîãî ãîäà, íå òîëüêî íå ðàäîñòíûé, íî äàæå ïåññèìèñòè÷íûé è îò÷àñòè ìðà÷íîâàòûé.

Íà÷íåì ñ òîãî, ÷òî “Happy New Year” áûëà íàïèñàíà íå ïîä íîâîãîäíèå ïðàçäíèêè, êàê ýòî ÷àñòî áûâàåò, à âñêîðå ïîñëå íèõ. Ïðîèçîøëî ýòî â ÿíâàðå 1980 ãîäà, êîãäà Áåííè Àíäåðññîí è Áüåðí Óëüâåóñ îòäûõàëè íà Áàðáàäîñå. Òàì îíè âñòðåòèëè Äæîíà Êëèçà èç êîìèê-ãðóïïû «Ìîíòè Ïàéòîí». Îíè ïðåäëîæèëè åìó ñîçäàòü âåñåëûé ìþçèêë î ëþäÿõ, êîòîðûå íàêàíóíå Íîâîãî ãîäà ïðèíèìàþòñÿ ôèëîñîôñòâîâàòü è îáñóæäàòü ðàçëè÷íûå âàæíûå âîïðîñû.

Äëÿ ýòîé ïîñòàíîâêè îíè äàæå íàïèñàëè ïåñíþ “Daddy Don’t Get Drunk on Christmas Day” («Ïàïî÷êà, íå íàïåéñÿ íà Ðîæäåñòâî»). Êëèçà èäåÿ íå çàèíòåðåñîâàëà, è îò ñîòðóäíè÷åñòâà îí îòêàçàëñÿ. Ñîîòâåòñòâåííî, ìþçèêë íà ñâåò íå ïîÿâèëñÿ, à âîò óïîìÿíóòàÿ âûøå êîìïîçèöèÿ áûëà çàïèñàíà â êà÷åñòâå íîâîãîäíåé ïåñíè, êîòîðîé äàâíî õîòåëè ðàçíîîáðàçèòü ñâîé ðåïåðòóàð ó÷àñòíèêè ãðóïïû ABBA. Êîíå÷íî, òåêñò îíè ïåðåïèñàëè, ñäåëàâ åãî ëèðè÷åñêèì, à íàçâàíèå èçìåíèëè íà áàíàëüíûé, íî áåñïðîèãðûøíûé âàðèàíò “Happy New Year”.  

Ñëîâà ïåñíè îòêðîâåííî ãðóñòíûå, è ìíîãèå ñ÷èòàþò, ÷òî “Happy New Year” ïîñâÿùåíà ðàññòàâàíèþ Àãíåòû è Áüåðíà. À ïîñëåäíèé êóïëåò çàñòàâëÿåò ìíîãèõ äóìàòü, ÷òî â êîìïîçèöèè âûðàæåíà íåóâåðåííîñòü â çàâòðàøíåì äíå, êîòîðàÿ îáû÷íî îõâàòûâàþò ëþäåé ïåðåä íà÷àëîì êàæäîãî íîâîãî äåñÿòèëåòèÿ.  îáùåì, îòíþäü íå ïðàçäíè÷íàÿ ïåñíÿ, êîòîðàÿ, òåì íå ìåíåå, òðàäèöèîííî çâó÷èò âî ìíîãèõ íîâîãîäíèõ øîó.

“Happy New Year” ñòàëà ïåðâûì òðåêîì, çàïèñàííûì äëÿ àëüáîìà “Super Trouper” (1980), íî ñèíãëîì åå òîãäà â àíãëîÿçû÷íûõ ñòðàíàõ íå èçäàëè. Çàòî âûøëà âåðñèÿ ïåñíè íà èñïàíñêîì, êîòîðàÿ ïîëó÷èëà íàçâàíèå “Felicidad”. Îí äîáðàëñÿ äî ïÿòîé ñòðî÷êè àðãåíòèíñêîãî ÷àðòà.  1999 ãîäó “Happy New Year” âûøëà, íàêîíåö, ñèíãëîì âî ìíîãèõ åâðîïåéñêèõ ñòðàíàõ è â íåêîòîðûõ èç íèõ çàíÿëà âûñîêèå ïîçèöèè â õèò-ïàðàäàõ.

Ñàìûé èçâåñòíûé êàâåð íà “Happy New Year” èñïîëíèëà ãðóïïà A-TEENS.

Äëÿ “Happy New Year” áûë ñíÿò âèäåîêëèï, êîòîðûé è ïðåäëàãàþ ïîñìîòðåòü.



Òåêñò ïåñíè
“Happy New Year”
Ïåðåâîä ïåñíè
“Happy New Year”
No more champagne
And the fireworks are through
Here we are, me and you
Feeling lost and feeling blue
It’s the end of the party
And the morning seems so grey
So unlike yesterday
Now’s the time for us to say
Øàìïàíñêîãî áîëüøå íåò,
È ôåéåðâåðêè çàêîí÷èëèñü
À ìû çäåñü – òû è ÿ
Ïîäàâëåííûå è ãðóñòíûå
Ýòî êîíåö âå÷åðèíêè,
È óòðî êàæåòñÿ òàêèì ñåðûì,
Òàêèì íåïîõîæèì íà â÷åðàøíèé äåíü
Ïðèøëî âðåìÿ ñêàçàòü
Chorus:
Happy New Year
Happy New Year
May we all have a vision now and then
Of a world where every neighbor is a friend
Happy New Year
Happy New Year
May we all have our hopes, our will to try
If we don’t we might as well lay down and die
You and I
Ïðèïåâ:
Ñ Íîâûì ãîäîì,
Ñ Íîâûì ãîäîì
Ïóñòü âñå ìû âðåìÿ îò âðåìåíè ñìîæåì ïðåäñòàâëÿòü ñåáå
Ìèð, â êîòîðîì âñå ñîñåäè – äðóçüÿ
Ñ Íîâûì ãîäîì,
Ñ Íîâûì ãîäîì
Ïóñòü âñå ìû ïîïûòàåìñÿ âîïëîòèòü â æèçíü íàäåæäû
Âåäü áåç ýòîãî íàì îñòàåòñÿ òîëüêî ëå÷ü è óìåðåòü
Òåáå è ìíå
Sometimes I see
How the brave new world arrives
And I see how it thrives
In the ashes of our lives
Oh yes, man is a fool
And he thinks he’ll be okay
Dragging on, feet of clay
Never knowing he’s astray
Keeps on going anyway
Èíîãäà ÿ âèæó,
Êàê ïðèõîäèò õðàáðûé íîâûé ìèð
È ÿ âèæó, êàê îí ïðîöâåòàåò
Íà ïåïåëèùå íàøèõ æèçíåé
Î, äà, ÷åëîâåê ãëóï
È îí äóìàåò, ÷òî ñ íèì âñå áóäåò â ïîðÿäêå,
Õîòÿ îí åäâà òàùèòñÿ íà ãëèíÿíûõ íîãàõ
È íå ïîíèìàåò, ÷òî ñáèëñÿ ñ ïóòè,
Îí ïðîäîëæàåò êóäà-òî áðåñòè
Seems to me now
That the dreams we had before
Are all dead, nothing more
Than confetti on the floor
It’s the end of a decade
In another ten years time
Who can say what we’ll find
What lies waiting down the line
In the end of eighty-nine
Òåïåðü ìíå êàæåòñÿ,
×òî âñåì íàøèì ïðåæíèì ìå÷òàì
Êîíåö, è îò íèõ îñòàëîñü
Ëèøü êîíôåòòè íà ïîëó
Ýòî êîíåö äåñÿòèëåòèÿ
Êòî ìîæåò ñêàçàòü, ÷òî ìû îáðåòåì
Åùå ÷åðåç äåñÿòü ëåò,
×òî æäåò íàñ çà ðóáåæîì,
Êîãäà çàêîí÷èòñÿ âîñåìüäåñÿò äåâÿòûé


© 

Ìåòêè:  
Ïîíðàâèëîñü: 1 ïîëüçîâàòåëþ

 

Äîáàâèòü êîììåíòàðèé:
Òåêñò êîììåíòàðèÿ: ñìàéëèêè

Ïðîâåðêà îðôîãðàôèè: (íàéòè îøèáêè)

Ïðèêðåïèòü êàðòèíêó:

 Ïåðåâîäèòü URL â ññûëêó
 Ïîäïèñàòüñÿ íà êîììåíòàðèè
 Ïîäïèñàòü êàðòèíêó