I’ve decided to write about Daniela Andrade even though she doesn’t actually have an album out yet. Even this EP is more of a technicality, since it’s not available for hard-copy purchase anywhere, at least to my knowledge. I suspect it was just a way to bulk some songs together on http://www.thesixtyone.com, a very nice music site I actually discovered her on, in spite of her being a pretty massive Youtube star, from what I gathered later on. But I’ll try to keep these collector’s ramblings to a minimum around here.
Have you ever walked around with your ear-buds on when your mp3-player of choice is turned off? There’s sometimes this whistling, hissing, chiming sound that gets through to your ears if you do that. It’s just the air playing around, but sometimes it makes for better music than anything on the mp3-player. You’ll never be able to remember any melody, but you’ll probably remember having heard something very delicate, very ephemeral, which your entire body makes just by walking around, providing the air with an opportunity to play, well, you. This is what Daniela Andrade’s music reminds me of. This unbelievable, intimate, half-whispered game is what she initiates with every one of her songs, sometimes to such an extent that it creates a hypnotic effect. There’s a quality about music which seems to often be sent into the background by many musicians and more importantly by listeners – fluidity. Beats make things solid, palpable, they place a song at a threshold where one can experience them via touch as well. And one remembers the texture and touch of something solid. It’s not as easy to describe the particular feel of a fluid though, fluid music isn’t as easily remembered on this level. However, it leaves a mark of its own, it bathes the mind and nudges scents, tastes, qualities of light into your perception, ever so insidiously and gently, it creates connections in your head to the little things which go unnoticed, not issues of history and events, not drama, but space, light, temperature instead.
The Red Letter Days EP is recorded like all of her songs – in her not-even-twenty-years-old-yet bedroom, with a fancy, novelty microphone, which provides for very good quality, but not the crystal clear, frozen perfection of studio equipment. There’s just enough hiss in the background to really drive home that feeling of air swishing through your ear buds as you walk the streets in the morning, off to some minor task or other that you think might or might not be a pivotal moment in your life. The air, at least, is there for certain, and it plays well.