Habiluim - Lately

I think this song really captures the whole "back to routine" feeling in the air after the long Passover break. These guys seem so tired - you can see it in their eyes, hear it in the singing and especially in the lyrics. I have to admit that, like a lot of other songs by The Biluim, I don't completely "get" the lyrics and the entire meaning of the song. It seems to be about being tired of the intellectual life but there seems to be something more to it. Or maybe not. Habiluim are known for their controversial (and very catchy) lyrics and have gained a cult status, especially among young lefties (but not just) since their debut album in 2003. I remember a few years ago I caught on TV at night their clip "Garbage Truck" and was thinking, "Who are these guys? And where can I hear more of their music?" It was so different from everything else at the time. I always knew they were popular, but I didn't know they were so popular, and was a bit surprised that the tickets to their recent reunion shows (after taking a break in '07) sold out so quickly. I caught their hugely anticipated performance at inDnegev in October, and you could really feel among the audience the buzz of excitement in the air, which kind of clashed with the band members' apathy (but of course that's why everybody loves them so much). Of course, they began with their famous line from "Bab El Wad 38/א" "I'm not here to entertain you. I'm here to ask a question," which pretty much sums up their music, even though it's done in a very entertaining way.

It seems to him that lately
It's harder to sleep
There's a sort of owl in his throat
That looks toward the darkness

And all kinds of theatre
Send brochures to his head
And every glance in the hall
Is a hidden promise of happiness

It's the talk again
Of Berthold Brecht and Haim Hecht and Chaim Topol
It's not the age it's the act
And this act is already tired of yourself

You go down to the living room and yawn
You feel its lit
You press the switch
But it doesn't feel different

Goes into the shower and washes
Takes out a towel and wraps
The sweat of the heart is a bat
Only at night she wakes up

Gloria Estefan in a ball gown
She claps her hands in the rain endings
No matter how much you approach her, she still isn't close

It's the talk again
Of Robert Crumb and Robert Smith and Robert Henig
Its not the wall its the fakir
And this fakir is already tired from lying on the bed

So he takes everything he hasn't solved
And he multiplies it by six
Takes off from it three
And subtracts it from one hundred

And it seems to him that lately
It's been simpler to sleep
When there are drops on the newspaper
He figures he is weeping

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