Masha Qrella
Unsolved Remained

People run and wander through the city, following the directions set by work and marital duties. I remain seated on a bench, next to me I have a turntable. It's mine, a family gift. My parents' vinyl records played on it, from the Rolling Stones to De André, from Mia Martini to the Clash. Now there are the few vinyls I happen to buy. Sometimes, when I need vitality, I put on George Clinton.

For some time there has always been a voice, I listen to it repeatedly and every time it stirs me. It's you, Masha. Your vinyls, the ones I bought at the Liò Bar are in my hand. The ones you printed for Morr Music (let's suppose you exist, God. Could you bless them?). I take one, liberate it from the sleeve that imprisons it and doesn’t quite protect it from the ravages of time. I place it on the turntable, you start singing and suddenly everyone stops. Only one girl has the right to move, she's the only one who has sensed your songs. She glides around the crowd following the rhythms of your songs, her face seems familiar. It's the one I've been dreaming of for a long time but have now lost. Just as I've lost her, the crowd also disappears, the bench explodes under me. The turntable and I fly to another bench. We're in a park in Brescia, in front of me there's a stretch of grass and you're there. Masha, you've returned to the city and this time you've brought your traveling companions. The ones I didn't meet a year ago. You start playing and the turntable, out of respect, as if it were alive, turns itself off and starts listening to you. You're in front of the sun and with the guitar, you create a reflection of light that hits my face. I'm momentarily blinded and then find myself in my room, I've fallen asleep. Next to me is my parents' turntable, one of your records has long since stopped spinning.

Listening to it, I fell asleep, I felt the warm embrace of your songs and I rested. Now that I'm calm, I listen to the other side. It's daytime outside, the sun is shining, and you live inside me. When it's over, I place it back in its sleeve, inside there's also a postcard. I look at it, Times Squadre is depicted on the front. On the back is the reason why I keep that postcard inside your record. "Unsolved Remained" is from 2005, after an album published with a small record label Masha soloist moved to Morr Music.

Some would say it's indie-tronica. There's some effect with the keyboards, the drums gradually emerging, and guitar riffs when needed. The experience of a very talented musician that shapes and becomes beauty and masterpiece. A nice sound, a fantastic voice, and no weird stuff or particular abstractions. The best things come out with little, often discovered by chance.