Gustavo Pazos Conde

He stringed melancholy that day, in chords unstruck like the words upon his lips
It was the sound of remembrance, of a conquered past
Filling the space of the place where he boldly sang a song,
Where he dreamed, provoked, presented himself as a fait accompli
In pursuit of his life while he picked up its pieces,
And strummed his guitar –some thirty years ago

He sang again that day, pensively, that song; he, not a singer
But rather one whose soul yields in sensing fingertips
Playing out his passion to the attentive people present,
Honouring who listened in that darkening afternoon
– Once hiding in the wombs of the country’s finest venues,
Programming and staging whose music touched his heart

Now hearts were touched by him, whose head had long grown weary
Of the ever-pending conflicts, and never-ending fights,
Dispatching man from virtue, from childhood dreams, and rights
At the stage of revolutions in worlds confined to fright
– The longing for reunion with what defies the reason
Sonorously surrounding the programme he compiled

For hear! Diversity seemed long his heartfelt ember trademark,
When he roamed the world of music for authenticity at play
Inspired by profoundness, and the beauty of the truthful
His own style double-branded by the gauchos of the pampas
Where chamarritas chase the grace of milongas in their sway,
And estilos serve to charm the Rio’s pour at bay

– Gustavo Pazos Conde, bringing us refinement from his native Uruguay.
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Review by Aya J.D. Dürst Britt of Caraguatá, the CD presentation of Gustavo Pazos Conde at the Tropentheater, Amsterdam, the 2nd of December 2012.