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Archive for the ‘Folk’ Category

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Maïa Vidal no és una cantautora corrent. Nascuda als Estats Units amb arrels franceses, germàniques i japoneses, ha viscut a Barcelona, París i Nova York, i ha assimilat una gran varietat d’estils musicals, gairebé tants com la quantitat d’instruments que sol utilitzar per acompanyar la seva veu captivadora (violins, acordions, guitarra, percussió, instruments de joguina…). Va debutar discogràficament amb l’aclamat God is my bike, un treball que li va valer comparacions amb artistes tan inquietes i celebrades com Camille i Feist, i ara portarà al directe les cançons del seu segon disc, que es titularà Spaces.

Intèrprets:
Maïa Vidal, veu, acordió, violí, piano de joguina, loops i teclat
Simon Beaumont, veu, guitarra, xilofon, autoarpa, trompeta i oboè
Giuliano Gius Cobelli, veu, percussió, xilofon i trompeta

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Jane Joyd és la corunyesa Elba Fernández, autora d’una proposta que va guanyar el prestigiós concurs Proyecto Demo 2011, organitzat pel Festival de Benicàssim i Radio3.

La cantautora gallega presenta el disc Shy Little Jane Presents: So Lost In This Bleak Winter Landscape, amb un so que la diferencia d’altres cantautores folk espanyoles que s’expressen en anglès, sobretot per la seva atmosfera solemne, per la inspiració que ha trobat en el blues i per una instrumentació ambiciosa que inclou seccions de vent i de corda. La música de cinema i el pop nòrdic de cantautores com Hanne Hukkelberg, Ane Brun o Jenny Hval han influït en una música que busca activar la imaginació de l’oient.

Intèrprets:
Elba Fernández, guitarra i veu
Xulio Vázquez, bateria
Ricardo Rodríguez, violí
Rosalía Vázquez, violoncel
Iago Mouriño, piano
Fernando González, trompeta
Julián Rodríguez, baix

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Dry the river – No rest

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dura, muy dura, y hermosa, terriblemente hermosa…

Y aquí, el video original:

White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
Light’s gone, day’s end
Struggling to pay rent
Long nights, strange men

And they say
She’s in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries

And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we’re just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
And she don’t want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It’s too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly

Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Call girl, no phone

And they say
She’s in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries

And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we’re just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
But she don’t want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It’s too cold outside
For angels to fly
An angel will die
Covered in white
Closed eye
And hoping for a better life
This time, we’ll fade out tonight
Straight down the line

And they say
She’s in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
They scream
The worst things in life come free to us

And we’re all under the upperhand
Go mad for a couple of grams
And we don’t want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland
Or sell love to another man
It’s too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
To fly, fly
Angels to fly, to fly, to fly
Angels to die

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Turn down the lights
Turn down the bed
Turn down these voices
They’re inside my head
Lay down with me
Tell me no lies
Just hold me close
And don’t patronize me
Don’t patronize me

‘Cause I can’t make you love me
If you don’t
You can’t make your heart feel
Something it won’t
Here in the dark
In these final hours
I will lay down my heart
If I feel the power, but you don’t
No, you don’t

‘Cause I can’t make you love me
If you don’t
If you don’t
No, you won’t

I’ll close my eyes,
Then I won’t see
The love you don’t feel
When you’re holding me.

Morning will come,
And I’ll do what’s right
Just give me till then
To give up this fight.

And I will give up this fight.

‘Cause I can’t make you love me
If you don’t
I can’t make your heart feel
Something it won’t
Here in the dark
In these final hours
I will lay down my heart
If I feel the power, but you don’t
No, you don’t

I can’t make you love me if you don’t
If you don’t
No you, no you won’t

I found love, darling
I found love, darling
I found love, darling, yeah, baby darling
I found love, darling, yeah
I found love, darling, darling, darling
Love in the knick of time

I found love, darling, yeah
Love in the knick of time

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Más info

Musicat

Anímic en la [2] de Apolo (Octubre 2011)

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Música sin etiquetas y hecha en pijama. A este multintrumentista de New Jersey se le compara con personajes ilustres del nuevos sonidos folk como Bradford Cox o Noah Lennox, pero su proyecto es mucho menos ambicioso.
Encuadrado dentro de los sonidos lo-fi y las grabaciones en tono de bricolage casero, consigue unas texturas que van desde la psicodélia folk a la música de síntesis con sonidos dificilmente clasificables, teñidos de drones, minimalismo y un cierto aire a ecos de grandioso templo y cuarto de baño alicatado hasta el techo en una extraña pero agrable mezcla.

Texto extraído de una entrada del blog “Los mundos de Fede”.

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