LP - Clear Vinyl - Limited Edition **Includes a free digital MP3 download [320 kbps]
We’ve had five advance singles on the way to this full-length from MARINITA PRECARIA, her first LP after the Mini-LP “No Me Miréis”. But this selection isn’t enough to explain what’s about to come. Marina Gómez is one of those figures that turns pop into art. She turns baring her feelings into an ode to the beauty of…
LP - Clear Vinyl - Limited Edition **Includes a free digital MP3 download [320 kbps]
We’ve had five advance singles on the way to this full-length from MARINITA PRECARIA, her first LP after the Mini-LP “No Me Miréis”. But this selection isn’t enough to explain what’s about to come. Marina Gómez is one of those figures that turns pop into art. She turns baring her feelings into an ode to the beauty of human idiosyncrasy. The melodies she writes become the expression of the spaces between the words in the lyrics. Now we have “Un Vaso De Agua” (A Glass Of Water) – an album that, like many others, will take years to be understood as a whole.
We’re going to try to exemplify it here, taking a line from each song (which is difficult in and of itself because of all the great lines to choose from) and use them to give you an idea of what is on this album. We’ll go backwards, if you don’t mind, starting with “Nota” (Note), an acoustic gem, that says so much with so little. A clever poem (like the ones we got with NOSOTRÄSH), Marina-style, that says “Se desconoce si es defecto o virtud esta ternura que quiere gobernar. Sólo buscamos cosas buenas” (Who knows if this tenderness that wants to take over is a virtue or a flaw. We only want the good things). Right before that, “Momento Decisivo” (The Decisive Moment), which we released a few weeks ago, builds up the song’s intensity at the speed of a relationship that is finding its space, and in one of the early moments begs, “Cuéntame tu invierno, cómo ha ido allí. Cómo es lo de nunca tener tiempo para ti” (Tell me about your winter, how it was there. How it is to never have time for yourself). “Suelo” (Floor) places her among the most sparkling singer-songwriters around right now: “Cambiarás de sitio, y, aunque en otro abismo, todos van a recordarte por lo mismo. ¿Qué canción serías?” (You can change your location but, even in another abyss, everyone will remember you for the same thing. Which song do you want to be?).
“No Eres Raro Eres Malo” (You’re Not Weird You’re Bad): the title is enough for me. As is her desire to make us dance. Discover the roughness she carries inside. “Lo Que Nos Pasa” (What’s Happening With Us) is playful with styles and arrangements (tango, ska, electro-pop… As if it were nothing), and of course with the lines: “Lo que nos pasa es una peli en francés, pasan las horas, tú y yo somos el cartel” (What’s happening with us is like a French movie, time passes, we’re the movie poster). “El Gran Cañón” is acoustic beauty: evocative, luminous, delicious, warm phrasing with highlights full of bittersweet cynicism like “Yo nunca pienso en el pasado, no hay nada más perverso que ser feliz aquí” (I never think about the past; there is nothing more perverse than being happy here). “Final Explicado” (The End, Explained) and its echoes of Italo-disco was another one of the songs we had already heard, and how could we forget the moment of “Voy a buscar en Google nuestro final explicado y quedarme con la versión que me convenga” (I’m going to Google our end explained and stick with the version I like best).
Few narrations of unforgettable summers are as extraordinary as the one that closes the A-side of this crystal vinyl, “El Verano Del Ciclón” (Cyclone Summer): “Nadie conocía a nadie, pero todos de la mano. Y con perspectiva he de reconocer: eso era un poco raro” (Nobody knew anybody, but everyone held hands. And looking back it’s easy to say: it was a little strange). On “La Piscina” (The Pool) we see Marina’s unfailing ability to make catchy melodies, dress them up for dancing and decorate them with words that transmit sadness and admiration in equal measure: “Y una piedra cobra vida, porque un escultor la mira, y la rompe y la derriba para hacerla vivir. Nada nunca me había recordado tanto a ti” (A stone comes to life when a sculptor looks at it and breaks it down to make it live. Nothing had ever reminded me so much of you). What can I say about the anthem that is “Gente Normal” (Normal People), the last advance single. It is singing unhappiness and making everyone happy. All the lines are amazing. You’ve heard it already; pick whichever one you want. You’re late to the game if you haven’t done it already. “Fantasmas” (Ghosts), another advance single, is mysterious, where the glitches and echoes of house (tremendous production work by Marina with Sergio Pérez) mixed with the xylophone show us that there is no possible definition for what she does, that anything can be an instrument of expression, and that loving parts can be more painful than not loving at all.
This brings us to the end (beginning). Putting a song called “Canción Alegre” (Happy Song), with the line “Ni una sola canción triste, tengo el corazón abierto, no te miento, míralo” (Not a single sad song, my heart is open, I’m not lying, just look at it), as the second song on an album right after the song “El Mundo No Es Para Tanto” (The World Isn’t All That), that says it’s better to stay together, could be the best (worst) news. Now you understand why we went through the album backwards – because relationships begin with all the nice things, but only poets know how to make the end beautiful. Now you have read (heard) the story in order and enjoyed it, differently, again. These things only happen when you get close to amazing people (artists). “Un Vaso De Agua” (A Glass Of Water) you will drink from again and again.
