"Jesus Blood, never failed me yet, there's one thing I know, cause He loves me so ...".
This verse was accidentally captured from the song of a homeless man stranded inside a London subway station. Found on a dusty tape and repeated along with its background noises, of people walking through their day, of pigeons, of voices and silences, for 74 minutes. A sweet and melancholic song and above all, "real" (this needs to be understood), real enough to give you chills, the kind that makes you feel out of place and excessive just by listening to it. And an orchestra that, years later, decides to make that song less lonely, to cover it, protect it, and accompany it, gradually.
First a timid string quartet, then, without haste, the orchestra, without strings. Then once more the entire orchestra. And finally, the farewell entrusted to the high notes of violins and cellos. And the voice of the homeless man that fades and returns to his solitude and to the subway whence it came.
A first note.
It seems that Gavin Bryars decided years ago to compose this work (not easy, especially given its minimalist nature, but of notable suggestion) one day when, having inadvertently put the original tape on loop within a room of a recording studio in Leicester, he noticed that the usually noisy and busy staff had suddenly become silent. Some even sat alone in secluded positions and began to cry silently (notes from the CD booklet).
Finally, a second note.
Towards the end of the CD, about 65 minutes in, the song of the homeless man is joined by the husky voice of a gentleman who has always been inspired by the tramp's poetry: Tom Waits. As a fan of Tom Waits, I must admit, however, that this is perhaps the least successful part of the whole, almost discordant. As I've read somewhere, it seems that even Waits suffers from that awe that the melancholic and above all "real" song (this needs to be understood) evokes in anyone who approaches it.
Tracklist
Loading comments slowly