As we enter the summer of 2024, the world continues its slow, inexorable drift, just as it began thousands of years ago. Who really remembers that other past? The hands of time have stopped moving. A constant preoccupation in this period of dilution, hoping for a remedy to despair, we are left with solitude to travel to distant lands. And then there are the records to which we return, irrevocably, because their content has not undergone the slightest phase shift. It's necessary to resurrect certain works that have eluded us.
Jesy Fortino's songwriting is the lyrical heiress of folk in its most stripped-down evocation, representing the iconography of the artist who arouses every curiosity. In Life On Earth, her music expresses, through her guitar and seraphic voice, a sensitivity and melancholy imbued with an ontological lucidity. We need sincerity, and confronting the world in such a disarming way is not an admission of weakness - quite the contrary. Eyes Like Ours reminds us that there is a universal understanding in human emotions. Behind the gestures of secret modesty, fantastic abandon and melancholy, behind the dizziness and even behind the delicacy with which certain aspects of existence are imprinted, Tiny Vipers lets sparks fly.
The review could end there, at this point, but not wanting to write the elegy of despair, Jesy Fortino takes us aboard her ship, in this spiritual lift through which Slow Motion traverses the bark to connect with the heart. Life On Earth is a timeless work that has no equal to date, with voice and guitar as its sole components, and it's certainly not the album's 10-minute title track that will leave you with any impression of boredom, as the arpeggiated melodies of the folk guitar seem to come from another world. There's a lot going on in this double album. The magnum opus of an elusive artist whose sensibility is such that, in the end, it's familiar. After this album, nothing will ever be the same again.
