Esta canción me mata

LLevo un par de días escuchando, devorando, absorbiendo, empapándome de esta canción. A veces ocurre. Es cierto, oigo mucha, demasiada música, demasiados estilos. La mayor parte de lo que escucho me gusta, a veces me apapasiona pero en alguna ocasión revienta un chispazo que me atrapa por completo durante... ¿unos días? ¿unas semanas?

Son Grand Archives. Matt Brooke aparca Band of Horses y con esta aventura paralela toca el cielo. Se conoce que la lluvia de Seattle ya no pone a los rockeros de mala hostia, ahora los vuelve tiernos. Puede que el pop esté muerto, que todo suene a escuchado mil veces, que las influencias siempre resulten evidentes, pero para mí sigue siendo mágico. Rogamos se desabrochen los cinturones y leviten con nosotros.

"Torn Blue Foam Couch"

"Hold on the further waves are high,

sleepless every night,

lie down shading your eyes from everyone.

Hey darlin' don't you look fine,

so blue all the time,

when you're terrified.

Over and over the lines

you memorized in time,

now you're so tired

and the telephone's too far away.

Phone lives have taken all your time,

taken all this time,

for the rest of our lives we're terrified.

The photographs they've taken make you look blind,

your costumes made of twine,

now you're forgetting all of your lines again.

But hey darlin', don't you look fine,

your two front teeth shaved

like ice and sharp as razors.

Hey darlin' don't you look finfe,

the dull look in your eyes,

you're terrified.

Holding the hands of our crimes,

darlin' don't you look fine,

as brave as we were those days.

Doing the best we knew how

on a torn blue foam couch,

as brave as we were those days.

Holding the hands of our crimes,

darlin' don't you look fine,

as brave as we were those days."