My little girl is my wife, but I'm going to call her my little girl because my wife you know old, a while ago he stopped being alone my girlfriend, and kill me if you see me one day calling her my wife.
My little girl was in Mexico when, due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the last airline that was flying from there to Havana stopped doing so. She was stranded for a month. The first thing we saw together when he returned home was the chapter dedicated to Spinetta from the series bios from National Geographic. This show is nothing to write home about. I have seen several installments and it is more or less the same as always.
The one they dedicate to El Flaco has two parts and towards the end of the second it's time to talk about death. His youngest daughter, Vera, tells us —or tries to do as far as the lump in her throat allows— about the last words her father said to her, already dried up by lung cancer that took him away in six months. While Vera speaks, as if what she says was not enough, as if the yellowish daughter of a bitch reducing Luis was not enough, the production adds a melody that squeezes hearts in the background to ensure the tears of the audience and the final applause. I cry with Beauty and the BeastOf course I broke.
The current cry was surely sustained by the time of uncertainty that my little girl and I had spent, waiting for a flight to appear that would bring her back. However, I think I wept over Spinetta's death eight years later, as if he had just died and we were watching him in the living room of the house. Very strong. The relationship I have with El Flaco is not with any other artist; neither with Silvio, nor with Lezama, and, those two hit me hard! I love him as good people are loved. A love similar to that felt for Martí, or Don Quixote, as good people.
Goodness moves, more than good. Good is fixed, goodness adapts, it is transformed. Good is a structure, goodness an agency. One dictates, the other tolerates. Goodness is, following Gilberto Gil, "from the order of the mysteries", good is "from the order of the ministries". Goodness, unlike good, belongs to men.
But I'm going to talk about the album, which amuses me.
If you search on Google you will know that he was influenced by the readings of Carlos Castaneda that Luis had done a few years before; that a second keyboard is added to the assembly, and for this reason we can enjoy a solo by Juan del Barrio without sacrificing the atmosphere of the song; that almost all the tracks were recorded on the first take. Things like that. What does not appear in the network are the elbows to the air that one gives when the blocks of amenabar; the restless foot and the closed eyes that produces the sound of the bass in With the shadow of your ally; nor the two seconds of silence that elapse in diamond soulbetween the fake fade out of keyboards from the intro and the irruption of the drums of “Pomo” Lorenzo. You have to look for it on the disk.
I share two images that I love. The first arrives on the fourth track. The narrator speaks to a character who is in the desert: “only with roots will you be nourished, with the shadow of your ally”. To collect! The other is in the third track: “Open your old things. Put your makeup together. Someone approaches, close your eyes, sit down. Thank you for being. Thank him for being close to you."
I'm going to kiss my little girl on the mouth.