múm...
the word for it is mushy.
the hood was just too cute. i love watching opening acts that i have no prior knowledge of. a band of five, instruments changing hands, including a lefthanded guitar and a righthanded bass, band of brothers, drummer's efforts, i liked them as soon as the beat kicked in. and someone just happened to bring me their album that same day, so i could listen to them whenever i want.
i wish i could say so many things about múm but my vocabulary limits me. i feel it, i get moved by it, but i can't express it. that's why i will never be able to become a critique. that's why my reviews always lack the main point, that it never goes further than pointing out some facts. someone once said, my critiques lacked the depth i offer while conversing about them. that's quite true i guess. but i don't lack the emotions which would be a real shame to miss out. and during the múm show, they all peaked and left me puzzled but complete and content and so many other things that actually contradicts one another but are overall pleasant.
but there is one word for the gig which is mushy. i felt like everything inside me was melting with love, like all those blocks of ice just went away while she murmured in her thin voice or played her accordion. it was warm and modest. she would bend her kness, give a little bow each time she finished a song. they were so different from the rest of us. the entire band. they stood like aliens visiting our planet and being introduced to a crowd of curious eyes. at times i felt i was violating their space but mostly i was in iceland, in their planet, welcomed. so calm, so in their own world, so peaceful.
in the end i don't know who left who, but i was back in london, unable to speak. i rested my head on the glass of the train, looked out at the dark, went back to my own world.
the hood was just too cute. i love watching opening acts that i have no prior knowledge of. a band of five, instruments changing hands, including a lefthanded guitar and a righthanded bass, band of brothers, drummer's efforts, i liked them as soon as the beat kicked in. and someone just happened to bring me their album that same day, so i could listen to them whenever i want.
i wish i could say so many things about múm but my vocabulary limits me. i feel it, i get moved by it, but i can't express it. that's why i will never be able to become a critique. that's why my reviews always lack the main point, that it never goes further than pointing out some facts. someone once said, my critiques lacked the depth i offer while conversing about them. that's quite true i guess. but i don't lack the emotions which would be a real shame to miss out. and during the múm show, they all peaked and left me puzzled but complete and content and so many other things that actually contradicts one another but are overall pleasant.
but there is one word for the gig which is mushy. i felt like everything inside me was melting with love, like all those blocks of ice just went away while she murmured in her thin voice or played her accordion. it was warm and modest. she would bend her kness, give a little bow each time she finished a song. they were so different from the rest of us. the entire band. they stood like aliens visiting our planet and being introduced to a crowd of curious eyes. at times i felt i was violating their space but mostly i was in iceland, in their planet, welcomed. so calm, so in their own world, so peaceful.
in the end i don't know who left who, but i was back in london, unable to speak. i rested my head on the glass of the train, looked out at the dark, went back to my own world.