Maybe Jimena Amarillo She has not asked to carry this heavy load on her shoulders, but whether the aforementioned likes it or not, her music has managed to become the best link between generations in the last three years. In the same vein as his debut (that is to say, with an open heart, with clear emotions and very thick coffee), comes his long-awaited second studio album, “Sorrow is not comfortable”a hasty errand of twelve songs where the young Valencian artist confirms that there was only one possible way to continue advancing in her promising proposal, and that was to climb one more level in the rawness, honesty and drama of her delivery.
Far from seeming redundant in the forms, Jimena tenderly reveals to us the different substrates that underlie the discomfort, going from her usual poetic manners (“I get home, I know I love you but it passes, I’m going to smoke a little on the terrace while I drink my coffee from a cup… and drink”sentence in “tiles”) to the cruelest self-flagellation (“Looking at words in a search engine, everything that has to do with love hurts me”describes between the succession of emo cadences of “Because you would know”), and all this through the ABC of an artist who has proven to break with the usual labels in order to give shape to a crystalline and empathetic discourse of precise depth. Tools with which, in addition, the Valencian woman successfully manages to escape reiteration and the superfluous, since, despite her inexperience, she seems to be very clear that only with raw authenticity will she be able to fit tracks that, a priori, they look so disparate: what if passages that go through the dark keys of the UK garage and electronics (“From head to toe” o “Lucia Interlude”), what if wisps of distortion and rough shoegaze (“Your blood from mine”), or directly, that step from tradition and the mettle of Carlos Cano to the wickerwork of a renewed centennial hymn (“Maria the Portuguese”).
As has been the case in each of her installments, Jimena’s lyrics are pure fantasy (“Dreams are short-lived, so you’re not”recites in that kind of two-thousander bedroom minimalism that is “love ticket”). But what makes us stop and admire “Sorrow is not comfortable” as it well deserves, is the fact that it is a record made purely by and for her (from the very cover, to the last chord). No added voices or premium additives that adulterate its essence. And coincidentally, with this she not only manages to deliver the best and roughest stories of her to date, but also an exquisite production, full of bases, beats and scandalous arrangements (her already well-known multifaceted magic of hers peaks in pieces like “Quiet afternoon”but his innate melancholy will not require large houses of cards to strike a chord with us, as he reveals in “I want you to look at me”or force us to the irremediable waddle with “Fine as a pin”). An empirical test of how Jimena Amarilloconjugated in the singular, is capable of making us fall in love in just half an hour.