…Leaving room for only whimsy, Caramuru guts garnish from his keyboard, softly chiding that childhood never fades. Meanwhile, Bento’s recurring bird calls invoke man’s ancestral nature: beaked and hollow boned, man is meant to fall before rising, body cast windward toward fear, wings unfurled with faith, adrift on currents of urban carols – saved by grace alone. Rushing to one’s head with the verve of ever faithful youth, leave it to children’s songs to cheer a pale music scene. Witness lines of latitude spanning history, spun like cotton candy in the hands of all provenance: brilliant with joy and other trembling.
read full review http://www.fluid-radio.co.uk/2017/09/do-re-mi-fon-fon/
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