This is the voice of interdependence. This voice is global; it is local. This voice is worldly; it is personal. It revels in our interconnectedness and plays with the inconsistencies it throws up. This voice is wise: it knows that longing for a resolution to all this turmoil between us won’t make it so. And this voice also finds beauty in that turmoil.
Here is an album to keep. It’s an album to keep not only because it manages to be explicitly of its time (it wears its 2008ness on its sleeve – while simultaneously dripping with the fragrances of previous decades) but still achieves a timelessness that renders it immune from ever being out of date.
It’s an album to keep because of what it can do for you.
It can lift you up on a Ferris wheel to take a look down at where you live, saying “Get a load of that… Bet you didn’t know!”
It can take you by the hand, saying “Come into the forest… I found something intense I want you to see…”
It can help you put the day behind you, saying, “Hey, that was a rough one, I know… but for now, dig this vibe and let go…”
It can tap into stuff you had without knowing you had, saying “Don’t worry. We all feel that way sometimes. It’s cool.”
What Eric Sarmiento has made for us is an album that does what all the great albums can do: it can be your friend. The connection to us and between us is vital here and it’s essentially in the voice. This voice is warm. And it’s hip. It knows its purpose.
This is the voice of interdependence.
-Jeremy Cox, Tokyo, Japan 10/25/08