You once were a dish sponge.
Now you clean tiles.
In the bathroom
where sponges go to die and I'm
not water-tight, any more,
but I'm pushing off from the shore.
Tilt my head back for the bleeding,
make your hands hardy for the holding of mine.
I stood up way, way too quickly,
what should I keep, and what's worth letting go off?
No, I know what you're thinking. It's not a poem written by a crazed dish sponge fetishist.
It's the first verse of "Midday Moon", of disarming sweetness, which asks us what is worth preserving and what we should let go of in the tide of time, so as not to bear the weight of memories.
"Dai diamanti non nasce niente" sang De André, the Portland group seems to have embraced this maxim, making humility and delicacy the cornerstones of their musical identity. Their music doesn't shine but it’s valuable, it doesn't seek to appear because it’s already concrete.
What sets these five Oregon guys apart from many other soft-pop bands is first of all a keen melodic ability, never predictable and as variable as a London sky. A song like "Newfallen" is an example: seemingly linear pop, it consists of delicate mood swings, constantly changing form, shifting from the melancholy of a winter sunset to the lightness of summer dew.
The whispered voices of Aaron Gerber and Sarah Winchester finish forging the aura of inscrutable enchantment of the tracks. There is something for lovers of all seasons: the walk of "No Big Hope" under autumn trees gradually shedding their leaves, the fresh spring downpour of "Third of Life", the September evenings of "Happiness", when the wind through the leaves fills us with memories warning us that summer is slowly coming to an end.
The closure gives us the group's most rock piece: "Giant Stairs", along with the saddest one: "Lay me Down".
After the intimate masterpiece of their debut "Cove" (2008), A Weather confirm themselves as a treasure of poetry and romance. Don’t miss them, you'd be losing out on precious music.
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