Weaving spellbinding spoken word wizardry with the energising soul swell of the blossoming beat underneath, this is poetry chiseled to an edge sharp enough to draw blood.
Walking the tightrope dangled loose across the chasm between poetry and music is strangely surreal and its a disgusting disastrous display when not done with grace.
The rope goes slack and the words tumble lost to the dark if the musicality is too little, and equally they can’t seem to find their flow on the rigidly taut dense bed when its too much.
It takes practise, patience, and a poet not afraid to fall, pick themselves up, and climb back up again and again to achieve. But once mastered it lifts the language to divinity. The poet finds the passion they poured into the prose from the pen and proudly punches it into the performance.
Rota is clearly an accomplished writer and spoken word performer, but the structuring of this piece and the powerful movement of the music that builds around it elevate the piece to new heights and an unfortunately broader audience. (Go check out your local poetry scene, some stinks sure, but some may well paint your grey soul with kaleidoscopic colour.)
The piece wears a bloodied and bruised heart on its sleeve. It speaks candidly about depression, anxiety, failing flailing mental health, and the place of art and therapy as healing.
It champions sharing yourself more openly, but also expressing yourself in poetry and art that paints the vivid imagery of gentle fingers that reach right through the ribcage of those that relate and pick, pluck, and poke out a soul’s song on their heart strings.
Poetry has the brute and brawn to bash open wounds, but the beautiful balms to soothe them too. Music is a voiceless language that hums with the vibrating resonance of our raw core emotive center. Poetry and music moulded masterfully by artists like Rota meld, morph, and mutate into something mesemerising and mystic.
If you want to hear more head over to Soundcloud for an earful of the Elysian nectar that is the full EP.
