One listen.

Went in, knocked it out, didn’t think too much which was good. I think the result could be stronger, but I also think it works really well. Perhaps not in terms of accurately representing the song, but at least in terms of finding imagery.

Tamba 4’s “Iemanjá” is from We and the Sea.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Keys, bass and percussion play calm and cool and meditative. They dim and brighten in points.  Another sound joins, along with vocals, and they seem calm. They seem to be arising and calm. Plentiful enough, focused, low. Soon replaced by woodwind which drifts across the surface.

Vocals start rising again in harmony; in choir. They stir and waft. Then the motion changes.

Here there’s a greater calm, or perhaps a softness. The sounds move to something more gentle. Something more willing to relax, though they seemed relaxed before. A strike of the keys and a sort of silence is implied before the journey resumes.

If it is a journey at all. It could tell of a life, and that life is held within the dancing of the keys in this new moment, or perhaps what is happening is tales of a life told through dance before moving to a more relaxed state. A closing of the tales. The dip in the narrative, perhaps as a trickery of sorts, or an inciting of rage. Then journeying again.

Through a bright and through a dark the sounds travel, reaffirming what came before. Vocals calling out arising and calm. Calling out to something, or perhaps receiving. Responding. Responding, growing quiet with everything sans the one sound that grows brightest in a dark before suddenly stopping at the song’s end.