A little bit more than a decade ago, we were introduced to the music of Filipe Felizardo. In all those years weâve learned about his chameleon-like ability to adapt different states of mind and perception to the way he plays guitar. âRed Crossâ is his last declared homage to the late John Fahey, but also a record representing all the imprisonments and liberties of living during a lockdown.
The two tracks in this release exist in two different moments. âthereâs an endness to itâ is an expressive love letter to John Fahey. The weightiness and reach of Felizardoâs notes resonate beyond comprehension. In this eleven-minute piece, he plays loud, he asks us to listen to it louder and to be locked in this trapped finger-dance he proposes us to listen to. Although the low sounds create tension throughout the whole duration, he plays the guitar with extreme fluidity that develops beautiful and crafty spiral sounds, that reflect the musician experience, freedom and maturity.
Spiralling down from that, we arrive to thirty-minute piece âwhen springtime comes againâ. The vertigo from âthereâs an endness to itâ becomes a drone, with feedback taking over, oscillating between light and darkness. Itâs impossible not to think about this and remind ourselves of the hope and desperations of the frequent lockdowns in the last year and a half. Picking up from his experiments in âVol. 9 After The Circleâ (Discrepant, 2020), where he created music with the sounds of daily routines, âwhen springtime comes againâ works around those idea of sounds/noises and how the frequencies make part of our lives. Think about a washing machine, a vacuum cleaner or a fridge. You donât hear them but you sense them in the sound Felizardo‘s produces. Heâs playing with our mind in this one. Happily so.
Holuzam