A beautiful postcard from the land of ice.
There must be something in that distant Iceland, something magical in the air that offers delicacy, simplicity, and poetry.
I close my eyes, and it feels like I'm there, among desolate landscapes and cold northern winds, where thoughts can roam without obstacles.
I am enveloped by a delicate sonic tapestry, where a barely whispered childlike voice plays hide and seek among string arrangements and piano strolls.
The room fills with a light blue hue, I smell earth and resin.
A drowsiness starts to envelop me, it's a shy melody that presses without invading, it almost seems to ask for permission, and I have unconsciously already given it free access to my emotional balances.
From afar come the call of an accordion and the caresses of a cello, they are soundless voices, yet I feel they are calling me, it seems they want to confide a secret, but I can't move, it's cold, there's an icy current, so today I decide to remain with my eyes closed under the warmth of the blankets.
They will surprise you with balance and with togetherness. With the perfect synthesis of dream and magic.
Personally, I think they are 'ahead' of the common concept of electronics.
Poetic Mum! Delicate, ethereal, intangible, and above all fairytale-like.
When you listen to Mum for the first time you wonder: “But who’s singing? A woman, a child, an elf, the snow fairy, a shy alien wanting to befriend you?”