Takes one to know one?

Voltei, esta semana, a ouvir este disco dos idos de 80. É o "Tender Pervert" do escocês Momus (aka, pela família, Nick Currie). É um dos meus discos favoritos de sempre (eu sei que não é uma lista muito restrita, mas este entra na shortlist), com algumas canções que são verdadeiras pérolas pop, de letra e de música. Não o podia recomendar mais.



Entre as músicas, algumas em tom bem negro, há uma particularmente divertida - "I Was a Maoist Intellectual".
O retrato que faz, pode muito bem ser aplicado a intelectuais e artistas de outras correntes marxistas. Podemos mesmo fazer o exercício de tentar lembrar-nos de alguns.
A letra é bem extensa, mas mesmo assim eis uma parte (podem ler a totalidade no site do próprio Momus):

I was a Maoist intellectual in the music industry

I always knew that I could seize the world's imagination
And show the possibilities for transformation
I saw a nation in decay, but also a solution: Permanent cultural revolution
Whenever I played my protest songs the press applauded me
Rolled out the red carpet, parted the Red Sea
But the petit bourgeois philistines stayed away
They preferred their artists to have nothing to say

How did I pass my time on earth? Now it can be revealed:
I was a Maoist intellectual in the entertainment field

I showed the people how they lived and told them it was bad
Showed them the insanity inside the bureaucrat
And the archetypes and stereotypes that were my stock in trade
Toppled all the ivory towers that privilege had made
Though I tried to change your mind I never tried your patience
All I tried to do was to point out your exploitation
But the powers that be took this to be a personal insult
And refused to help me build my personality cult
(...)

The rich despised the songs I wrote which told the poor their worth
Told the shy to speak and told the meek to take the earth
But my downfall came from being three things the working classes hated:
Agitated, organised and over-educated
(...)

And how was I treated in this world and in this industry?
As a Maoist intellectual in a business would be

I became a hotel doorman, I stood there on the doormat
Clutching my forgotten discs in their forgotten format
Trying to hand them out to all the stars who sauntered in
The ones who hadn't been like me, who hadn't lived in vain
I gave up ideology the day I lost my looks
I never found a publisher for my little red books
When I died the energy released by my frustration
Was nearly enough for re-incarnation

But if I could live my life again the last thing that I'd be
Is a Maoist intellectual in the music industry
No, if I could live my life again I think I'd like to be
The man whose job is to stop the men who think like me
Yeah! If l could live my life again that'd be the thing to be
The man who plots the stumbling blocks
In the lives of the likes of me!