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If you are one of those people who claim that they don’t get instrumental music, that somehow music without lyrics is inferior to that blessed with a singer waxing lyrical, the problem, I’m sorry to say, lies with you, the listener. It is you, the recipient, who doesn’t know how to hear rather than the music not being able to talk to you.
The problem with lyrics is that they tend to take you by the hand and lead you to the exact conclusion the writer intended. Music, being emotive rather than exact, fluid instead of forced, means that instrumental songs can be all things to all people. Because they deal with mood and emotion, feeling and expression, they can only meet you halfway, meaning that anything that you draw from the wealth of their sonic charms is as much about you, the listener, as the artist’s intentions.
As Gitkin weaves his instrumental magic, we, or at least I, find myself being taken on a wonderful sonic journey, one that skips across geography and genre, sound and style. The dance leads us through Latin cumbia-infused grooves and arabesque riffs, seventies psychedelia and the swampy atmospheres of The Crescent City, which Brian J. Gitkin calls home, trance-inducing Sudanese mystique, and Tuareg desert blues vibes.
Seductive, and full of heat and humidity, enigmatic and exploratory, “The One” has no answers. Instead, it begs the listener to consider its mercurial ways and take whatever meaning they want from it, a meaning that will be totally unique and personal for each person who hears it. How brilliant is that?
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