Inspiration is a sigh. An instant that flies by.
I have found myself when, regardless of the instrument I’m playing, I feel my presence dissolve, and become a channel through which music flows. I have no idea where it comes from, why or how, maybe of many years of listening to a lot of music. During those moments I lose all sense of self-consciousness and all awareness of what I’m really doing. Those are moments of pure and absolute happiness.
Of course, it does not happen very often.
But, like Diego Vainer once said to me, quoting Pablo Picasso, “the important thing is to be there when it happens”.
And for that, you have to be in constant contact with the instruments and the tools you use to create music. And if inspiration doesn’t come, start editing, expanding and manipulating those tiny moments that occurred when this blessed inspiration decided to show up.
On the 11th June 2011, a good friend of mine Octavio Romero (Tavo) disappeared from his flat in downtown Buenos Aires. He was supposed to be going to a party, to which he never arrived. His body was found in the river 6 days later, with signs evidencing his murder.
Tavo worked at the Maritime National Authority (Prefectura Naval Argentina), and was going to get married by the end of that year with another friend of mine, Gaby. It would have been the first same-sex marriage involving a member of the Armed Forces in Argentina.
I met Tavo through Mariano Keselman, and later became friends. We got together for lunch every week or fortnight near our jobs; we shared parties, meetings, asados, various New Year’s eves at Mariano’s…
Tavo was a luminous person. He had a contagious energy, a joy that made a celebration out of anything he was involved in.
It’s still very difficult to accept or understand that such hatred torn him off this world.
I try as much as I can to evoke him like he was, to keep that joyful flame of his alive. And I know all his friends do the same.
Music is one of the most powerful painkillers I have, and a lot of times it helped me to channel a painful situation. It wasn’t like that when Tavo was murdered.
The effect was so devastating that in those months I felt empty, and I couldn’t do much more than try to sing some songs in my acoustic guitar, as a way to go through the pain.
And at one point I remembered Vainer’s words quoted at the beginning. So, I started working in an improvisation that I had recorded before any of this had happened. Slowly. Everyday advancing at caterpillar-speed. Recording things. Deleting things. Trying things out. Somewhat in auto-pilot mode, to pass the time. Suddenly, and unknowingly, I found myself with a finished piece that I liked, and felt I could dedicate to his memory.
The result is “Un camino”, a road.
All sounds used in this track were created in the Nord Lead 2x and the Oberheim Matrix 6r.