There are songs that are made for those days when you wake up bare-chested and shoeless in an industrial zone only to walk 4 hours under a heavy rain to get back home. Warm songs which open the door to your miserable self with an exhilarated and loving smile; which cover you in a blanket smelling of juniper berry powder and hot chocolate; which send you down the 4 lane highway of permanent happiness. I admit these songs are rare : But they do exist.
And there are other songs; songs discovered one merry March morning which are destined to recall forever the eternal feeling of Spring; of light fluttering behind a curtain; of those curious days when you almost feel like knowing what’s going to happen before noon. Admittedly, there aren’t many of those either, but they, too, exist.
There may even be songs which can do all those things at the same time, and in a span of 5 minutes. But, to be honest, I only know of one such song. It’s called “Good Remake” and it’s by Orval Carlos Sibelius (ex-Centenaire).
It’s found on his second album “Super Forma”. And, because we’re lucky bastards, it’s at the very end of the record so that only the righteous and the valorous can enjoy it as a blissful reward. However, you won’t need either patience or courage to listen to this record. A barely functioning stereo will do.
For, despite that “Super Forma” was crafted with uncompromising care (two years of tinkering, first in the studio and later on analog tape) over a period of two years (the first sound engineer threw in the towel then passed the baton to Stéphane Laporte - Centenaire, Egyptology, Domotic) and besides the fact that it contains a pair of otherworldly moments where Reason has been discarded for good (the psychotronic song “Cafuron” and its
fuzzed-out trumpets chanting the pinnacle moment of the worst day ever lived by a human being with horrendous arpeggios in the back), the album only owes his epic, screaming polychromatic and hazily occult nature to its songs. That’s right, it’s an album made of songs.
Songs for those days when you wake up bare-chested and shoeless in the middle of an industrial zone, of course! But above all, songs where fire and grace fall heavy on your head continuously for 46 minutes. Songs like a alchemical spring rain dissolving and mixing The Byrds with Robert Wyatt ("Spinning Round"), Morricone with The Ventures ("Desintegraçao", "Asteroids"), Italian psychedelia and Californian winds ("Super Data").
The style is radical; the result verges on the sublime. And when the music stops and the last notes of the immense “Good Remake” are disappearing into the air; while swarms of insects still search for his soul; Orval Carlos Sibelius, displaying his weird and glittering acrobatic silhouette, can be seen moving forward towards the Light, holding in his hands the intact cover of a beating heart. But not just any beating heart, it is your very own.
Because that’s the price you’ll have to pay to go on this journey. There’s no way back. You’ll be mad; you’ll be lost…but happy.
It’s either that or the industrial zone. You decide.