9:24 PM
The night has stretched its weary gaze across the world as I turn on my stereo.
Nick Drake, "Way To Blue."
The spiral staircase wraps around my thoughts, between the pages of a book.
"And then the man whom Pain called his friend sought the shore again, and found a shell (...)
And sang softly beside the pearly edge:
but the sad dweller of the lonely sea paths
changed all her song into a confused lament
in the whirl of her coils, forgetting it.
W. B. Yeats
9:59 PM
Nick Drake was not a sad person, it's the hindsight of posterity that painted him that way.
He loved life, more or less like everyone else.
It was not his dream to become a mirror to pass through.
A mirror through which, as in Lewis Carroll, those who wanted could leave all their sadness and return to the real world rejuvenated.
10:21 PM
My favorite piece from this album is perhaps "Thoughts Of Mary Jane" (the draft version on the celebratory album "Made To Love Magic" is also very beautiful).
Thoughts are everything in the world, the only place where one remains alone in the company of the entire universe.
11:04 PM
Nick Drake knew how to put the universe into music, the real one and the "imaginary" one, under sweet blankets of notes called "Fruit Tree," "Day is Done," "Three Hours."
That he then decided to leave was only because he was tired enough to know the rest.
11:59 PM
Far away, the tugboat whistled; its call passed the bridge, one more arch, another, the lock, another bridge, far, farther away....
It called to itself all the river barges, all, and the whole city, and the sky and the countryside, and us, it carried everything away, even the Seine, everything, let there be no more talk of it.
L.F. Celine
"Unlike Dylan, Drake doesn’t want to impose himself as an 'engaged' protest singer; his music speaks from the heart."
"His voice shines over the small orchestra like a comet in a starry night at the North Pole."
The voice comes from immeasurable distances, telling the story of a wandering girl and a mysterious river man.
"River Man," a gentle guitar, a bossa nova voice from the deep, with strings that arrive like a kiss, like a caress to a desolate child.