Wednesday, April 15, 2015

San Fermin - Emily

For some time I have been ruminating on this here blog about men’s  stories, especially relationship narratives (not necessarily romantic in nature) and about self-perceived shortcomings that can be remodeled at will. Many posts are connected to song lyrics and all of them are things I think about when awake, and feel even when asleep. If you’re into this kind of tales go and see other posts with tag “On Relationships”.

And now, let’s continue.

Photo borrowed from San Fermin homepage

So he tells me:

“Considering you have experience as a bisexual let me ask you something; is it true that girls are more emotional and passionate?”

“It's not.” I say. “Men are more emotional but do a better job hiding it. Women are more practical but know how to present themselves well. You know, I also have Masters in Psychology and there is a shitload of research in this field.”

Perfect example always presents itself timely so new SanFermin album is almost out and is available for streaming on CBC music until April20th.

I am in love with San Fermin for some time now; it is a thing of passion and heart wrenching sadness. It is a thing stopping my heartbeat and laying low in my throat threatening to smother me. It is both sex and death, it is anything and everything you could ask from music act and some more. Love, both open-eyed and fierce - not blind and careless.

I have heard Parasites (on Noisetrade Best of What's Next sampler) and Jackrabbit (from their soundcloud page) before but album itself is awesomeness overload. Warm, rich, vibrating with passion, compassionate, artful, inviting - inviting! - everything tightly packed in one haunting package.

But perfect example to illustrate example mentioned before is Emily.

I chuckle* from the very first verse, my mind’s eye leafing through the examples from personal experience. They are all like that ambiguous pictures from visual perception experiments; at first you do not see anything, but, once seen, pictures never revert to ambiguous lines. Not even if you would like them to.

And sometimes that is exactly what you would like :D

I love this part most:

“Here in my blurry condition
I hide myself in the room and
Just tell them all that it's nothing
Alone with all of these humans
It'll be believing in the midnight
Young unbeliever in the dim light
Can't believe it all comes to nothing”

Alone with all these humans

… Humans…

My heart goes to the guy who felt it to write it down afterwards. His are not the shoes I’d like to fill.

*that is not smug or happy chuckle. It is very heavy, hurt chuckle, criss-crossed with understanding only spear through the hip can grant.

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