Per que no li dius?

by Xavier Panadès and the C.A.T.

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LET ME CHOOSE WHO I AM There is thunder, there are storms, under shadows we’re so blinded, that we’re killing with cucumbers So internal is our self-hatred, not even the master seer, could disclose the secret, of this sour bile. There are too many centenaries to mark. There are oceans of conflicts and humblings to cleanse. There are sufferings and abuses that have sullied us. We are not pure, yet we must loosen the ties of our hallucinations, that would have us classified human beings like marzipans. I cry, I cry, I cry, for yet I hear no sound of liberty From nowhere rivers of blood flow, even then we face neither eternal cowardice. Nor our enemies nor the inquisitor dazzling us into eternity with his lantern. Truly, we’re prisoners of our repressed nihilism. Slaves to our fears. Believers in reason only to break hearts. Some with envy tell me I’m not Catalan enough for saying ‘á’ instead of ’à.’ Others grudgingly, oblige me to be Spanish as it says so on my passport. What right have you to judge me, without asking me? I’m neither slave nor object, nor someone who follows the path. I’m a human being born in the Catalan Countries, who’s hurried by, through the world; who, with no need of comparison, Has the right to say he feels Catalan. © Translation by James Thomas 2015 DEIXEU-ME ESCOLLIR QUI SOC Hi ha tempesta, hi ha trons, i ens cega tant l’ombra, que ens matem amb cogombres. Ens odiem tant internament, que ni el millor vident, podria descobrir el secret, d’aquesta mala llet. Són masses centenaris a recordar. Són multituds d’enfrontaments, i humiliacions a netejar. Són molts patiments i abusos que ens han embrutat. No som purs, però ens hem de deslligar de les al·lucinacions, que ens fan classificar ésser humans com massapans. Jo ploro, jo ploro, jo ploro, perquè ja no escolto ni la llibertat. De sobte, corren rius de sang, i ni així ens enfrontem a la covardia eternal. Ni als enemics, ni a l’inquisidor, que ens enlluerna eternament amb la seva llanterna. Realment som presoners del nostre nihilisme reprimit. Som esclaus de les nostres pors. No creiem en la raó sinó per petar cors. Uns amb enveja, em dieu que no sóc prou català perquè dic “á” enlloc d” à”. Altres amb molt rancor, m’obliguen a ser espanyol, perquè ho posa al passaport. ¿Quin dret teniu a jutjar-me, sense preguntar-me? No sóc cap esclau ni objecte, ni algú que camina recte. Soc un ésser humà nascut als Països Catalans, que ha corregut el món endavant, I que sense haver de comparar, té el dret a dir que se sent Català. © Xavier Panadès i Blas “The Catalan”
THE FOUNTAIN OF SANT MARÇAL God guards you, pedestrian. That the Montseny imposes on you A little love and a little wisdom. Here you have a stone bench carpeted with sickle. Here you have a fountain that could speak to you. The virtue of the Montseny is this trickle that of firs and of beeches the dead leaves rinsed. The virtue of the Montseny builds up in the altitude. For this fountain has such a pure glance And its canal gives the pitying echo of the wood of the forest tortured by the wind. Guerau de Liost ( Jaume Bofill i Mates) © Translation by James Thomas 2015 LA FONT DE SANT MARÇAL Déu te guard, vianant. Que t'imposi el Montseny una mica d'amor i una mica de seny. Ací tens un pedrís clapissat de falsia. Ací tens una font que parlar-te podria. La virtut del Montseny és aquest rajolí que d'avets i de faigs la fullaca esbandí. La virtut del Montseny es congria a l'altura. Per ço té aquesta font una ullada tan pura i la seva canal dóna l'eco planyent de la fusta del bosc torturada pel vent. Guerau de Liost ( Jaume Bofill i Mates)
LET’S COUNTER-ATTACK This land without trace of peace or liberty, Full of fine spirit but short on unity. Some would sell it for a bowl of lentils, hard, bitter, and lacking in vitamins Let’s wipe the earth of these demons, who get the goat of donkeys, cats and bats. Let’s counter-attack! Let’s counter-attack! Let’s counter-attack! Let’s open our eyes that we never closed, mourn all the lies, and crap the hypocrisies. And let’s remember that bad faith leads us into decadence. Let’s counter-attack! Let’s counter-attack! Let’s counter-attack! © Translation by James Thomas 2015 CONTRAATAQUEM Aquesta terra sense pau ni llibertat plena de genis però sense unitat. Alguns la venen per un plat de llenties, dures, amargues i sense vitamines. Netegem la terra d’aquests dimonis, que fan emprenyar a rucs, gats i rats penats. Contraataquem! Contraataquem! Contraataquem! Obrim els ulls que mai vàrem tancar, plorem les mentides, i caguem les hipocresies. I recordem que la mala consciència ens duu a la decadència. Contraataquem! Contraataquem! Contraataquem! © Xavier Panadès i Blas “The Catalan”
WHY WON’T YOU SAY? Do me no more wrong, be gone and forget. Pay your heart no further heed outside Refuse the storms and the raptures. Pack your backs, be gone and forget. Why won’t you say when you love yourself? Why won’t you say when you write? Why won’t you say when you boil over? Why won’t you say when you describe it? Pack your backs, jackass, be gone - and live! Leave us in peace, you silly fool. Keep silent and you’ll be tolerated: Show the respect that is never forgotten... Why won’t you say when you love yourself? Why won’t you say when you write? Why won’t you say when you boil over? Why won’t you say when you describe it? © Translation by James Thomas 2015 ¿PER QUÈ NO LI DIUS? No em facis més mal, marxa i oblida. No escoltis el cor a l'aire lliure. Refusa els trons i les alegries. Agafa la maleta, marxa i oblida. ¿Perquè no li dius, quan t'estimes? ¿Perquè no li dius, quan escrius? ¿Perquè no li dius, quan t'empipes? ¿Perquè no li dius, quan ho descrius? Ruc, agafa la maleta, marxa i viu. I deixa'ns en pau, que ets tot un babau. Roman callat, i seràs tolerat. I carrega el respecte, que mai s'oblida. ¿Perquè no li dius, quan t'estimes? ¿Perquè no li dius, quan escrius? ¿Perquè no li dius, quan t'empipes? ¿Perquè no li dius, quan ho descrius? © Xavier Panadès i Blas “The Catalan”
Cuco i Kika 03:33
CUCO AND KIKA These sweet little things, speckled white and black, they're hiding, under the sofa. Teeny like little mice, with four tiny paws, no tummies to speak of, and very hungry. Cuco and Kika, don't be afraid, come out and play, we won'teat you up. Just a while ago born In an unusual world, they're hiding because, theydon't know what to do. The tinier of the two, behind the bigger one, trembles in panic, not knowing where she is. Now she does a little poop, on the carpet, So hard and white, It's like coprolite. Cuco and Kika, don't hide away, come out and eat, and you won't run away. Cuco and Kika, my littlekittens already getting so big, I'll always love youuuuu! © Translation by James Thomas 2015 CUCO I KIKA Aquestes cosetes, blanquetes i negretes, estan amagadetes, a sota el sofà. Petitetes com ratetes, amb quatres potetes, sense panxetes i amb molta fam. Cuco i Kika, no us espanteu, sortiu a jugar, que no us cruspirem. Acabades de néixer, en un món diferent, s'amaguen perquè, no saben què fer. La més petiteta, darrere la grandeta, tremola amb pànic, perquè no sap on és. Ara fa una caqueta, a la catifeta, tant blanqueta, que sembla un copròlit. Cuco i Kika, no us amagueu, sortiu a menjar, i no marxareu, Cuco i Kika, les meves gatetes, ara ja grandetes, que sempre estimarééééééééééééééé! © Xavier Panadès i Blas “The Catalan”
SHADOWS AND COBWEBS Shadows that continued hounding me. Cobwebs blocking my brain. Darkness that bears light, that makes you see who you’re not... and you know, you know, you knowwwwww! Ah, the horror, ahhhhhh! Turn a deaf ear to the trends under the carpet, never-ending bleeding consumerism, and the dregs of all these chronicles they make you buy to buy to buy! Ah, the horror, ahhhhhh! Remember you’re always naked, and that lies and truths are imposed. Now you know who you are, someone pumped with images, chemical products and ill ill illusion! Ah the horror head! © Translation by James Thomas 2015 TENEBRES I TERANYINES Tenebres que continuaven perseguint-me. Teranyines aturant la raó. Obscuritats que porten la llum, i et fan veure qui no ets, i ho saps, saps, saps! Ai quin mal aiaiaiaiai No escoltis les tendències sota la catifa, el consumisme agònic sense parar, i les rentades de cap cròniques, que et fan comprar, comprar, i comprar. Ai quin mal aiaiaiaiai! Recorda que sempre ets nu, i les mentides i veritats són imposades. Ara saps qui ets, algú inflat amb imatges, productes químics. i irrealitats tats tats! Ai quin mal aiaiaiaiai... De cap! © Xavier Panadès i Blas “The Catalan”
WHO ARE THE ANGELS? Once upon a time in a hamlet there was a girl,in a four-barred cell neither lazy nor cold. Searching for freedom no one would show her. On the contrary, all she got were grimaces and taunts. One day she grew wings and flew so high and far - She noticed that humans were abandoned in prisons, in mental states that lead to hypocrisy. When she came home A big pair of scissors awaited her - To fleece her of all her freedom and her mental health. The petrified girl ran, ran and ran - She flew so high that she reached the moon, Which, far from in mourning dress was a glory of angels. And then she understood that humans were angels without imagination, that so much simple love unnerves and sparks fear. On the moon no one suffers for their identity. Besides, they can loudly cry their revendication: “Less freedom and less charity” © Translation by James Thomas 2015 ¿QUI SÓN ELS ÀNGELS? Una vegada hi havia una noia a un poblet, dins una presó quadribarrada sense mandra ni fred. Buscant la llibertat ningú s’hi rebel·lava. Ben al contrari, només rebia ganyotes i rialles. Un dia li van créixer ales i va volar alt i lluny. Va observar que els humans eren perduts en presons, en estat mentals que duen a la hipocresia. Quan torna a casa l'esperaven unes tisorasses, per tallar-li del tot la llibertat i la salut mental. La noia espantada va córrer, córrer, i córrer. Va volar tan alt tant que va arribar a la lluna, que més que vestida de dol era una falla d'àngels. I van entendre llavors, que els humans són àngels sense imaginació, i tant amor familiar espanta i crea temor. A la lluna no han de patir Per a la seva identitat. A més a més, poden cridar la seva reivindicació: “Menys llibertat i menys caritat” © Xavier Panadès i Blas “The Catalan”
Els amants 02:23
THE LOVERS (FLESH) (Meat wants meat Ausiàs March) There were not two lovers like us in Valencia. Fiercely we loved from morning... to night. You rememner everything while you are Hanging the cloth. Years have happened, many years; Many Things have happened. Suddenly, still takes me that wind of the Love and we roll on the ground between Embrances i kisses. We do not understand love like a kind Habit, like a peaceful habit of fulfillment And clothes. It awakens suddenly, like an old hurricane, And turns on the ground it joins us, pushes Us. I wished an educated love, sometimes And in progress the record player, Negligently kising now a muscle and Afterwards the bud of an ear. Our love is a sudden and wild love, And we have the bitter longing of the land, Of going between rolling among kisses And scracthes. What you want me to do!! Elementary, I Already know it. We ignore the Petrarca and we ignore Many things. The stanzas of Riba and the Rimes of Bécquer. Afterwards, turned on the ground anyhow, We understand that we are barbarians, and That this must not be, that we are in the Age, and all this and that. There were not two lovers in Valencia like Us lovers like us are birthed very few." Vicent Andrés i Estellés © Translation by James Thomas 2015 ELS AMANTS (La carn vol carn Ausiàs March) No hi havia a València dos amants com nosaltres. Feroçment ens amàvem des del matí... a la nit. Tot ho recorde mentre vas estenent la roba. Han passat anys, molts anys; han passat moltes coses. De sobta encara em pren aquell vent o l´amor i rodolem per terra entre abraços i besos. No comprenem l´amor com un costum amable, com un costum pacífic de compliment i teles. Es desperta, de sobta, com un vell huracà, i ens tomba en terra els dos, ens ajunta, ens empeny. Jo desitjava, a voltes, un amor educat i en marxa el tocadiscos, negligentment besant-te,ara un muscle i després el peçó d´una orella. El nostre amor és un amor brusc i salvatge, [3rd part – as 2nd but harder] i tenim l´enyorança amarga de la terra, d´anar a rebolcons entre besos i arraps. Què voleu que hi faça! Elemental, ja ho sé. Ignorem el Petrarca i ignorem moltes coses. Les Estances de Riba i les Rimas de Bécquer. Després, tombats en terra de qualsevol manera, comprenem que som bàrbars, i que això no deu ser, que no estem en l´edat, i tot això i allò. No hi havia a València dos amants com nosaltres, car d´amants com nosaltres en són parits ben pocs." Vicent Andrés i Estellés
El Camí 02:03
THE PATHWAY I see a pathway through the vineyards. Where will it take me If I followed it? Nobody can say it But the one that knew it: knowing a pathway makes a lot of joy. A farmer who comes goes From the vineyard. It passes| today, Also every day: every day not, that parties there were. Of so much that he knows it, he knew them. -Tell me the pathway: knowing it I would want. -If I showed it to you, you would never know it: if you want to know it, pass it every day. © Fundació Francesc Pujols i Morgades © Translation by James Thomas 2015 EL CAMÍ Veig un caminet per entre les vinyes. ¿A on me durà si jo l’en seguia? Ningú m’ho pot dir sinó el que el sabia: saber un caminet fa molta alegria. Hi passa un pagès que ve de la vinya. Coim hi passa avui, també cada dia: cada dia no, que festes hi havia. De tant que el coneix, les hi coneixia. -Digueu-me el camí: saber-lo voldria. -Si te l’ensenyés, tu mai el sabries: si s’en vols saber, passa-hi cada dia. © Fundació Francesc Pujols i Morgades


Xavier Panadès and the C. A. T. came to live, when folk guitar wizard James Hollingsworth convinced Xavier to record acoustic after one of Xavier’s trash metal concerts at Stoke’s Croft in Bristol.

What was a folk guitar player doing in a trash-mental concert? Xavier conviced James after a concert at the Coffee book shop Circle Books to experience him, one of the best trash metal singers in the country.

Three weeks later, Errol and Xavier recorded in a couple of days “Per què no li dius?” at the Digital Cloud Studio under the guidance of James.

The album is pure raw energy: the gentle guitar playing of Errol guiding the passionate voice of Xavier on each tune with James added ambient effects and harmonica.

And the C. A. T.? Errol did not want his name to appear on the albums, and preferred C. A. T. ( Creative Artistic Temperament).


released May 23, 2007

Errol Hewitt (guitars)

James Hollingsworth (guitar solos, ambient effects, and harmonica)

Xavier Panadès I Blas (vocals)

Art cover by Joan Fontcuberta i Villà

Produced by James Hollingsworth at Digital Cloud Studio.

All songs © Xavier Panadès i Blas and Errol Hewitt 2006.
All Rights Reserved.


all rights reserved



Xavier Panades Swansea, UK

Are you an artist? Xavier answers “I constantly have the need to express myself.” Indeed, the Catalan born reciter, actor, and printmaker, is intuitive, passionate and unexpected, and his performances are explosive celebrations of human emotions that reach the entrails of our existence. ... more

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