Sleep Party People
Sleep Party People

With certain albums, it makes no sense to talk about tracks, genres, or anything technical. The discography exists, after all, only by convention and if we should, even for a moment, immerse ourselves in total sentimentalism, we would still have the courage to go beyond the album itself and live those 45 minutes of music that that wizard called musician has given us, stealing some of our time and capturing our soul.

Here, with Sleep Party People, none of that which is the cold and rational side of music takes hold. You put the disc in the player and immediately melt. The first sensation is that, instantly, of closing your eyes and letting your soul shine through like a crystal. Your essence that gradually turns into ether and challenges the air with sighs. Rhythms that chase each other, sometimes very slow, other times destroying themselves in prewar-folk, yet other times hinting at a bruised sense of anger, become the feelings of the listener.
And if you close your eyes. You see them. The snow-covered fields of Denmark, where the band continues to create. You see the white forests and empty roads, feeling once again that childlike innocence you thought you had lost. And suddenly the rationality you so praised loses its meaning. It melts in the snow with grace, among the calm and slow swirling of these sonic glimpses. And with the weakness and strength of a winter that creates a black hole at the start of summer, I cautiously return to my melting.

With affection.