Kaleidoscope
Tangerine Dream

There are many kinds of psychedelia, but two are close to my heart: one has bright and crazy colors, the other vibrates with subtle melancholy. “Tangerine Dream,” with its soft sweetness, leans toward the latter option and, as for colors, favors a case of nibbled crayons. Maybe that's why the other day I found a red stub on the street and a smile escaped me with a pinprick inside, or maybe it's because melancholy and colors might be in love with each other in a boudoir made of clouds. Anyway, kaleidoscope is a beautiful word, and beyond its meaning, the object is also remarkable; after all, what could be better than putting a church stained glass inside a tube? “Tangerine Dream” is a simple thought expressed in a strange way or a strange thought expressed simply. I believe we're all a bit mad, as long as we're aware of it, and I am. Life is a journey of happy madness, and we are reverse vampires who need light, and light is everywhere. They even invented windows if you haven't noticed, just like they invented wine at noon and the caramel scent of my favorite girl. Everyone has their collection of moments, precisely a kaleidoscope of small pieces and figures that fit together, and all of this could be a record. And when a record is like this, it is a record that resembles you—simple and strange, strange and simple. It resembles the naivety that comes out when I find myself feeling good and the hint of melancholy that is always there. It's just that here, melancholy becomes luminous, and simplicity magical. As a child, they told me the fairy tale of sadness, then came the snow, then the snowman, then the smile, then the sun. Well, this record follows exactly that path, sometimes in one place, sometimes in another. Then okay, Donovan in the strawberry field with the scarecrow Syd smiles like a snowman. Moments that stretch, sugar, suspended time. Soft sweet flares, and at times even something funny. How boys who played a poor imitation of the Stones ended up inside a cloud is a mystery, yet it happened to them, as it did to others. Maybe they realized they were simple and strange or strange and simple, yes, it must be so.