The Song navigator: Caras Escondidas – Hidden Faces

When we first started writing the song Caras escondidas there was just a massive big bang in the beginning and some eerie sketches of a song melody made by Okko along with some ideas for the rhythm for the vocals.

As I started to write the lyrics in a suitable rhythm and length, with words that would somehow fit the mood, the story soon started to form into this ”scary ghost story at sea”.

Ahogan las olas del mar
en la distancia

oyes a
alguien canta

/

Drowning
waves of the sea
in the distance
you hear someone singing

We wanted the atmosphere to be somewhat spooky and even apocalyptic. It didn’t matter if the story itself was quite abstract and left a lot of room for imagination. The ”Caras escondidas” (=hidden faces) in the story are a symbol for the fear that creeps up on you when night falls. They are the faces of those abstract figures you think you see in the dark when you are scared enough.

The ”me” in the song is a force that is commenting the occurrences in the story but also affecting them.

She is singing for the poor drowning soul that is the object of the happenings:

No hay cuerda pa’ cogerte
mi voz te ahoga
buscas el fondo,
pero no encuentras
la cuerda pa´ salvarte

respira la melodía, resipira la melodia            

/

There’s no cord* to hold on to
My voice will drown you
You search for the bottom
but won’t  find
the cord that will rescue you
Breathe the melody
Breathe the melody

*la cuerda means not only a rope or a cord but the string of a musical instrument and a chord as in the term used in music

For a musician it’s not so unusual to be drowning in melodies. Sometimes it would be nice if someone threw you a rope to hold on to (be it a chord that makes the song make sense or something else that helps you) when you feel that the song is just not coming together and the ideas are floating on  some other, distant, ocean. With this song the only solution was to let go and permit myself to write such an ambiguously heaving story that it shall take the weight of itself to carry afloat – or just let it drown in the melody. Whatever happened, we got through with the song, and it even ended as the opening track for the album.

-Anna

 

Óyela reviewed brilliantly in the music magazine Riffi

The album Óyela, released by Bajo Cero in October, gets a brilliant Facebook review in the Finnish music magazine Riffi.

“- this music boils up from a metropol swarming with 24/7 turbulence, where the subway train incessantly rumbles until yet another morning, and where the corner shops are never closed at around midnight.-” Lauri Paloposki, Riffi

Read the whole review on the Facebook pages of Riffi magazine (Sorry, only in Finnish though)

Out of records

We no longer have records. But don’t you worry! It seems there are still some CDs in most Finnish cities, in record stores, and the new shipment from the press is on its way, possibly being pressed right at this moment. Thank you for buying the first round! And oh, yes, it is out digitally as well!

This is all very overwhelming, but so is the pictorial that I used to illustrate this little good news flash (I must admit that I did add the Óyela album to the original picture).

The picture I used for this news flash was taken in Afghanistan in the late 50’s or early 60’s, photographer unknown. In the promotional pictures of those days the country seems to differ quite little from Finland in those days, though there seems to be a bit more food for sale at the marketplace, when compared to Finnish pictures of the time. It seems something just went terribly wrong there after this.

I recommend you take a look at all the photos of this article Once upon a time in Afghanistan… Record stores, Mad Men furniture, and pencil skirts – When Kabul had rock ’n’ roll, not rockets. As the publisher of these photos, Mohammad Qayoumi, puts it “I want to show Afghanistan’s youth of today how their parents and grandparents really lived”.

Maybe things eventually get better and we can one day throw a gig in Kabul too.

– Kili