Hungover? Of course you are; this is San Francisco, drinking and literacy capital of the world.
“If, as they say, God spanked this town
For being much too frisky,
Why did He burn His churches down
And save Hotaling’s Whiskey ?”
As a city rebuilt on the merits of fermentation, this should come as no surprise. But rest assured thirsty thinkers, I’ve found the cure for the fog city flu- bananas for potassium, Gatorade for carbohydrates, and Juana Molina for the swarm of bees buzzing between your ears. Ubiquitous bodega apothecaries and the Internet make all three readily available to even the most destitute of dipsomaniacs.
The oft rotated third variable in this equation is the result of years of empiric research attempting to synthesize a series of vibrations that don’t aurally reek of the night before. Who would’ve thought an Argentinean comedic actress turned songstress could achieve an artful balance of innocence, atmosphere, and tranquility to transcend the corporeal inconveniences of a dehydrated brain, but eureka. Inspired by the structure and whimsy of birdsongs, Molina seamlessly pieces together classic guitar with contemporary electronics to create soothing, nonlinear compositions, closer to jazz than conventional pop. So, no more protracted screechings, repetitive choruses, or jarring hooks to haunt your early morning hangovers, thanks to Juana Molina.
Cheers, Kyle Kralowetz