The return of Everett True | 15. Alice Boman
Today, a slight deviation from the source.
Today, a recommendation from a most trusted friend.
Today, a slight test for you. Try listening to these four versions, without hearing who they’re by.
Now tell me, which do you prefer?
I ain’t sayin’ there’s a right or wrong way to answer this question. Stephen only knows that musical taste is subjective but… and this is important, so be warned… music also directly informs character formation so if you did answer wrong (and sure there is one obvious wrong answer – so obvious I ain’t going to spell it out for you and spoil the game), maybe you should think long and hard about what it says about you as a person, as a political entity, as a living breathing work of art.
Whatever. I’ve allowed myself to become distracted once more before even any words tumble and spill out and profess my new found love for this loveliest of artists, Alice Boman.
She reminds me a little of the deep sonorous soul of David Thomas Broughton: the singer who moves like a rock star in slow motion, and loops mandarins un-peeling. There’s something about Verity Susman here, too… though not the voice, which I guess is the immediate draw card. Is it? Why would I write that? I love the sound of the piano, of slow motion loops. I love the repetition, the slow stately sweetly sad beautiful repetition. I remain a sucker for great music. I can’t help myself. I will always lose myself in music, great music. At one point during the late 80s, every movie I saw was soundtracked by music like this and I (heavy sighs) took it for granted.
She reminds me most of my lost Swedish sweetheart Frida Hyvönen, but that doesn’t mean she sounds like her.
I once stayed in Alice Boman’s home town of Malmö.
None of these facts are that coincidental.
Here. Quick. Before you lose sight of her.
This is the most magical music you will hear today.