One Night At The Joan Miró Foundation

If you haven’t listened to this CD yet do it right now and stop reading. You know better than anybody that music can only be explained through music (words, so concrete and functional, are never enough); instruments and techniques are just instruments and techniques; and musiacians train their senses to respond magically to the sound.

It’s when music enveils as many questions as the breath you can take and digest. So much high voltage adventure, net free, like that summer night at the Miró when the black, the yellow and the white sounded like all the ranges of blue and even the moon dared nothing.
If you close your eyes you’ll see them still smiling, grooving their heartbeats and mixing their blood and air, so deep inside, that you’ll be able to breathe to them. They are doing it for you, for us, don’t you realise it?

It’s when they make you sigh so hanged from the invisible string they knit that catches you to start an inchanted journey beyond the rules and physical laws from a simple chair on a sea bed where you could find no water ‘til going out into a fill full void running down and down, peacefully, up to the top.
A one way flight, unexpected and unique, that only musicians can feed to amazing places and moments as intangible as powerful. A private and collective trip into space and time with a common departure point but very many different destination point.

It’s a great magic of sound that will touch and change you, whether you like it or not, ‘cause it moved you through thinking and feeling beyond what you never suspected before.
You’ll be able to understand music chooses you, and not the other way round.
Because the world is unlimited whereas we just pretend, modestly, they let us be involved in their vital delirium the one that connect us with them but, also, the present with the remoteness.
A delirium that will outlive them,
and will out live us,
now and far away,
for ages and ages.