Não sei como posso explicar porque considero estes dois discos mágicos. O primeiro, sobretudo, entranhou-se de tal maneira, que me acompanha ainda hoje. Comecei por ouvi-lo num programa de rádio noturno: essa música Stolen Property, de uma força tribal e encantatória, e Wide Open Road, com a bateria a gritar por socorro, jogando aqui um contraponto entre o Wide Open, a grande e imensa extensão da solidão, e a tentativa, os drums, de reagir, e de ultrapassar essa condicionante existencial. É uma música de grande intensidade, como Stolen Property, onde somos levados ao mais sagrado desespero, e à mais imponente celebração de um ritual primitivo, de sacrifício, de perda. Os Triffids, australianos, como Nick Cave e os Insx, foram injustamente esquecidos. Mas são grandes, como são grandes! Ocuparam um lugar muito importante no ano mágico de 1986.

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Wide Open Road :

Well the drums rolled off in my foreheadand

the guns went off in my chest

Remember carrying the baby for you

Crying in the wilderness

I lost track of my friends,

I lost my kin

I cut them off as limbs

I drove out over the flatlandshunting down you and him

The sky was big and empty

My chest filled to explode

I yelled my insides out at the sun

At the wide open road

it's a wide open road, it's a wide open road

How do you think it feelssleeping by yourself?

when the one you love, the one you love

is with someone else

Then it's a wide open road

It's a wide open road

And now you can go any place

that you ever wanted to go

I wake up in the morningthinking

I'm still by your side

I reach out just to touch you then I realise

It's a wide open roadIt's a wide open road.

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Stolen Property :

There's someone standing in the rain like they have no place to go

Maybe that someone is you, maybe someone you don't aim to know

Maybe lost possessions

Maybe stolen property

You just lie around waiting on a signal from heaven

Never had to heal any deep incision

Darling you are not moving any mountains

You are not seeing any visions

You are not freeing any people from prison

Just an aphorism for every occasion

As if the only thing that ever matters

is your place at the table

You never read the writing on the labelwhen you drank from the bottle

it said Keep Away From Children

This is stolen property, this is stolen property

Let her run away

Let her run, let her run away

She can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now

She don't belong any more, learn the hard way

She don't belong here anymore

Finders keepers, losers weepers

Finders keepers, losers weepers

This is stolen property, this is stolen property

Reach out in the darkness now she's not there

Reach out it's getting darker now she's not there

Reach out it's getting darker now

She don't belong anymore, learn this the hard way

She don't belong here any more

You stumble, sometimes fall

Pick yourself up!

Hold yourself up to the light!

Duck your head !

Watch for the blade!

Can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now

This is stolen property