And there’s no rigour, if not in their perfectly done-up ties.
And there’s no lucidity, if not in their cars’ paint. Their luxury cars rushing at the edge of sanity.
Too fast, there’s no space.
A continuous changing, neither graded nor logical. Fast.
There’s no focus, other than the one on the concept of fast-forward shifting itself.
Just like a forced research.
It’s today’s society.
Or maybe yesterday’s?
Don’t know it for sure. While I’m here writing, something might be changing.
And nobody cares if we’re changing for the worse.
Right between the chaos, engines and human beings working at light’s speed, there’s an old afro-american.
He’s leaning on the walls of a street corner shop. He has a trumpet, whose sound muddles up with the traffic hoots.
Seems to be waiting for some silence, only to let his instrument out into a solo. So he stops, looking around.
When silence finally arrives, lasts just a bunch of seconds.
A bunch of seconds is enough for some spare notes.
A night-long bunch of seconds, with only the moon and the street lights listening.
In the vain hope of a better tomorrow, the old jazzist plays dreamy tunes.
Sun rises, illuminating the cultural and social crucible that is the metropolis.
And there’s no way out.
The shifting will never be complete nor considered obsolete.
A perfect painting, altered brushstrokes of what surrounds us.
-Marco Guerra Avitabile
Label: Lifeforce Records
Avantgenre: Modern Metropolitan Sounds
Official site: http://www.myspace.com/atthesoundawn
Review online since: 02.07.2010 / 17:46:28
01 – Mudra: In Acceptance And Regret