Os arranjos mesclam uma ingenuidade sombria com timbres nada previsíveis. Resultam, portanto, numa sensualidade nostálgica e numa contemporaneidade de quem ouviu o folk dos anos 60/70. Aqui em casa, o cd de Karen Elson toca todo, mais de uma vez. E de novo… de novo…

Entretanto, só prestei mais atenção à canção The Ghost Who Walks (antes estava muito envolvida com a música The truth is in the dirt) depois de o Alexandre Castro* me contar que se referia ao apelido que a belíssima cantora recebera na infância: fantasma! Apenas por ser muito branca e magra – essa tal “inocência cruel das criancinhas”

A letra é linda! Karen radicaliza a cena

The Ghost Who Walks

The ghost who walks

She’s on the prowl

For the man she loved,

He cut her down

It was an ordinary night in june

When he drove her to the lake

So they could watch the full moon

The ghost who walks

She’s on the prowl

For the man she loved,

He laid her down

In the tall grass

He kissed her cheek

But with a knife in his hand

He plunged it in deep

She looked at him with pleading eyes

He softly spoke,

“my dear the love has died”

And then he muffled her desperate cries

Under the moonlight

Ghost who walks

She’s on the prowl

Wanders in the moonlight

She’s crying to herself because

Eyes never once looked cruel

But the moon in the blade

Shimmered like a jewel

She looked at him with pleading eyes

He softly spoke,

“my dear the love has died”

And then he muffled her deadly cries

Under the moonlight

Under the moonlight

Under the moonlight

Under the moonlight

*Aliás, é sempre bom conversar com o Alexandre sobre música, sensibilíssimo, ouve com todos os poros.