Dreams for super​-​defeated heroes

by Kalashnikov collective

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Album released in 2007. Re-issue in 2014.


released March 7, 2007




Kalashnikov collective Milano, Italy

Kalashnikov were born in 1996 on the dirty floor of a squat in Milano, Italy, to give vent to the adolescent restlessness of three punx. Under the drunkenness of the heavenly libertarian nectar and rejecting the ruling culture, Kalashnikov are created with the wish to put together their own utopias and passion... ... more

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Track Name: Sonja contro la Grande Distribuzione
Movement! Velocity!
Bright colors!
Broken bottles, and burned lamps
Seriality, mesmerism
White eyes on the planet Earth
The shelves in the supermarket crumble on the unaware consumer
The rolls scream on the floor of the shopping centre
Sonja uncaps a beer with her teeth
And speaks the language of fire!
Track Name: Fernsehturm
Thougths that don’t pass throught that get entangled between the veins and they blacken my blood with
uncertainty like a kiss with open eyes.
And the look behind your back forgotten in a segment of motionless sky.
The horizon’s line is a razor blade.
Adieu, a look’s meeting, sipping this wine that comes down from our eyes. From the jacket I extract a
And I elbow my one’s way through the crowd.
The top of the tower is warped up in the clouds, the palls that hide the end of the story... will, maybe, be
the end of the world, if everything falls down like a wall of memories?
Track Name: L'odore dell'aria prima del temporale
Fists in my pockets
Vaquity inside of me
I’m trembling with anger and I’m thinking about the sutured stitches that you bear
Bitter cigarettes
Claws on my lips
Restlessly I drink from my cut wrists
Fellows! Be careful to the coils of the blak worm crawling into the city!

The smoke escaping from the winter’s mouth
The dirty snow
The streets in town
The tracks in the mud
The bites of cold
The distant lights
The fylfots.
We are the burnt walls of a squat. We are…

The wind lashes this city
A long good-bye will mark us
The wind lashes my city
The dense rain will go down
Concrete repression signals
It’s the time to love with hearts uprooted from the chest
Track Name: Phoebe Zeit-Geist
Tight ropes ‘round the thin wrists,
she’s naked and she‘s chained on the revolving door
of a big store.
Long eyelashes, slobbered lipstick,
the torture of the wheel like a glamorous Christ
for absent-minded people
in the crowded centre of the city.

Stench of gin, shattered shop-windows
out of the fashion night-clubs
you have a knife in the hands!
Stiletto heels, your cheeks are slashed
by a cutting blow of bottle,
now everything grows clear
like a page of the bible.

Your are alone in the palm of the hand, you’re under the fire of thousand guns.
Track Name: Margini non codificati
Prisoners in labyrinths of iron and gears
She has something unexpected in her eyes
Cog-wheels as supreme divinities
She has concealed her heart in the curls of the crowd...

...That can’t grasp her secret (password: sabotage!)
and that doesn’t see who is trembling in the shadow…
Hurry up! Darkness creatures, the new day is arriving!

You, who are still alive in the sign of the chaos, like a virus in the darkness
You, who are still alive, like an uncodified edge, proud residue of the disciplining practice.

Among defenceless bodies trained by the discipline
Face the look of a thousand gaolers!
Fighting the power by the force of numbers
Carving by flowers an epitaph for their world…

She can’t reveal her secret
She can’t confess her guilt
The future needs an indomitable look without hesitation.

You, revolutionary nucleuses in a restoration age!
You, black holes of the system’s self-consciousness!
You, sworn enemies of every established order!
History travels with you!
Track Name: Police Panopticon
Police! Police!
Behind a dull prism,
judge and coscience of never committed crimes.
Eyes without orbits,
uncovered nerves,
opaque audience at a surrealist theatre,
we dance the rythm of the Power.
In the metropolis under video-sorveillance the night drops and the life runs away, transparent like the glass.
Prisons without bars, figures in perpetual purgatory.
God has new eyes!
Track Name: E.L.F.
Before the shadow drove away the sun and the wolves came out from their rock houses, the king rode in
the ancient forest. Ready to fight, with the fist closed, when the wind rose murmuring to the stars…

“We are the lords of this earth
Now the putrified sovereigns nourish our ancient roots”.

From the ground trampled on among the nuclear slags and the memory of the heroes a clot of fear emerged, a dark skeleton was sibilating the words of a gloomy litany…

“We are the lords of this earth
Now the putrified sovereigns nourish our ancient roots”.

Scene two: the rhythm of the industrial machines is a drum that marks the eternal cyclic scanning… and women and men dance frightened and motionless along the ridges of the time…)

The blood-stained sun died in the sea making way for the night! The moon rose like a neon skull and the trees looked like ghosts under its beam!

“We are the lords of this earth
Now the putrified sovereigns nourish our ancient roots”.

The king saw that every stump was a body and every branch a dry and bony limb! And those eyes… and
those eyes! Fire that burns the soul!

“We are the lords of this earth
Now the putrified sovereigns nourish our ancient roots”.

An echo is swollen with eternal sighs and endless ages, with exiled ghosts by those who usurped the
world… And the wind shook the earth’s pillars! A tangle of horror was on him and wrapped the king in a
cloth soaked with coagulated blood. Everything was clear… everything was clear! Like a dream in the
morning sleep…

“We are the lords of this damp and dark earth, before the kings who defined the world and before the queens
dressed up with the oxidized gold that lies in the graves and the putrified sovereigns who now nourish our ancient
Track Name: Banshee
Have you ever heard into your deep sleep
the rumble of a motor not of this earth?
The hands on the handle, her face is a grey skull
with tungsten in the frozen orbits.

Among the cement tower of the atomic research station, along dark streets towards the silver river
hidden among the precipes...
...and in the urn the ashes of a young queen...

The old man who watches over the brink of the gorge
he shakes the mountain by his clenched fist
he has a necklace made by theet and beer can
and a dog as black as the pitch.

The neon signs of the petrol pump,
the blackish outunes of the motels,
across the silver river
that is hidden among the precipes
to throw there the ashes of the young queen...
Track Name: Nessuna fiducia (Declino cover)
Poison and distrust shed in handfuls
Sadness leaves a bitter taste in the mouths
Discouraging words, fists and kicks in the face
wring from me sweat and bloody tears.

I need neither your certainties nor your existence dominated by egoism!

Shining promises with gestures of interest
Parables of illusion and certainty
A Lord of War on whom we bet the future
An utopia of certainty, peace and tranquillity

I need neither your certainties nor your existence dominated by egoism!

A peace of paper, a hero without future
Waiting an unexpected dawn
Among these four walls more and more narrow
I cultivate my hate towards the system!

I need neither your certainties nor your existence dominated by egoism!