Yalemo

The words here seem to breathe on their own. They are not spoken - they are born, like light breaking through the skin. Africa whispers somewhere in the background, drums remind us that the heart is also an instrument. There is an ancient power in the voice, but without pathos, rather a soft confidence of someone who knows that words can heal, but also hurt. And even if not everything is clear to the ear, everything is still clear. The music creates a feeling as if someone inside has carefully adjusted a light bulb, and it has become brighter.