Preparem-se. Esta é, provavelmente, uma das músicas mais bonitas que alguma vez vos apresentei. É do José Lobo e é uma ode ao coração apertado, às emoções difíceis de expressar e ao eterno amor incerto, por vezes tóxico, mas que não nos larga a mente. Existe todo um caminho pelo luto de uma relação e é precisamos esse percurso que fazemos com “Room Painted Turqoise”. Ou assim eu o senti. A beleza da música é esta. Os artistas e os instrumentos falam-nos ao ouvido, invadem-nos o corpo e a mente e metamorfoseia-se no que precisamos para que a oportunidade da catarse e da libertação surja. José Lobo fez-me sentir tanto com esta sua belíssima canção, que por aqui toca em repeat. Os cenários mudam, as pessoas também, mas a cada vez o percurso fica mais fácil. O sublime o belo juntam-se para enfrentar os nossos pequenos demónios. Estou muito contente de ter tido a oportunidade de ouvir esta canção. Deixo-vos com informação sobre a mesma e sobre o vídeo.
I wrote the song from the end of the summer in 2017 and recorded it last winter. Through that time, I wrote the different parts and kept adding new verses from dreams and the life experiences I was going through at that point. It is a song about dreams I had, some while I was awake, some while asleep.
The video was recorded by my good friend and film director Henry Zambrano, we recorded it back in February in a pseudo abandoned building he has access to. Henry and I edited it a couple weeks ago, I am a fan of the visceral shots he took and the sincerity that the music video hopes to transmit to its viewers. In all good hope.
I have an hour to decide before she gets out of the shower
Woke up today with lights that concretized my actions
My room is missing a sign that tells me which hours were opened or closed and I could pick it a fence surrounding it
We can pretend were back to summer days and it was me who hurt you, it was me who put a sword through
But now it’s you
Now you’re howling at the moon and I can hear you just as clear, distance is nothing my dear
There’s pine trees and mugs of tea piling on a sink no longer scalding a sunrise of steam
I’ve given you so many names but as desires can never fix this broken bag, new names adhere to you as stamps to a passport do but unfortunately we’re running out of pages and soon enough we’ll have another border to cross
Morpheus isn’t as kind as he was in the past
He won’t let me into your dreams, he won’t let me in
Now it’s you who isn’t clear and has messed it up for us and I’m trying to figure out but is hard to believe that you were such a thief when I thought you a saint and I would raise hell
Oh I need to protect from my poisoned head but it wasn’t the case
Oh it took just a day for you to forget all that we made and crumble it to dust
Now is my turn to absolve the pain. When I close my eyes I can hear them speak, the room painted turquoise makes me want to be blind