Southern Lights [reissue]

by Angelo Romano

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1.
Duminica 03:53
Allatu a stu granni burdellu, iu lu talìu, lu mè ciriveddu cunzatu pi n'avutra jurnata unni un c'è nenti, un c'è spiranza ci sta sulu u suli ma è beddu friddu aspetta 'a nutti pi lassari u postu amentri iu, m'assettu i cercu paruli persi tra li pinzeri E nun c'è nenti, nun ci sta nuddu c'ascuta nzoccu haiu a cuntari e nun c'è nenti ca inchi la vita aspettu sulu un trenu p'arricogghirmi E allatu a sta luci scarza io mi talìu, anima persa, e unni sugnu, iu nun lu sacciu iu sacciu nenti, sugnu nu stracciu e l'acqua scinni e ni svacanta li testi chini ri trasparienza amentri iu, sempri cchiù persu cercu un mi suli d'jiri a sarvari E nun c'è nenti, nun ci sta nuddu ca pò capiri di runni vegnu e nun c'è nenti c'ascuta a vuci di n'omu persu cu la sò cruci Aspettu sulu duminica aspettu pausi ca tennu vuci aspettu sulu consulazziuni aspettu sulu duminica
2.
I'm losing my mind, I'm walking around I'm singing a song whose name I don't know I'm crazy as you claim, I don't know my name I can't see the light, I don't think aloud I walk to the way you can't understand I'm missing the goal, I'm killing my soul I'm breaking the night, I'm feeling so right I'm playing the blues, I'm writing the rules But I'm going outside, I'm having this ride I'm breathing the dust, my head's full of rust I'm having a tea in front of the sea I'm killing my soul, I'm losing the ball But explain me, explain me, explain me the truth Dear wandering friend with no shoes to bend And show me, show me, show me her eyes I'm actually blind with nothing to find Forgive me, forgive me and give me a home My guitar is broken, my heart is broken The sidewalk, the station of South Kensington I'm dreaming of you, I'm living so cruel I'm taking a glass full of longing at last I'm mad as myself, I'm the one you should hate And I'm smelling fire, I'm living my fate And you cannot know, you cannot read My lips are hanging, I'm stuck on a plea But explain me, explain me, explain me the truth Dear wandering friend with no shoes to bend And show me, show me, show me her eyes I'm actually blind with nothing to find Forgive me, forgive me and give me a home My guitar is broken, my heart is broken The sidewalk, the pub of South Kensington But explain me, explain me, explain me the truth Dear wandering friend with no shoes to bend And show me, show me, show me her eyes I'm actually blind with nothing to find Forgive me, forgive me and give me a home My guitar is broken, my heart is broken The sidewalk, the sidewalk of South Kensington
3.
Ci sta cu ti dirà ca la natura è filicità dipenni ri comu la pigghi, dipenni ri comu sta ntû stu munnu di cummattimenti, petri ruri, strati muderni, nzoccu arresta è sulu fumeri, nzoccu suvecchia di chiddi seri senza cchiù amuri, sulu fatica e jurnati ri travagghiari e dimenticari cosi annati li taliati chini di gana E li sonni ca tu teni bedda mia, sò tutti persi e la cuirenza è arristagghiu di ideali cummattusi e custruimmu n'avutru cielu ca, bedda mia, tu fai agghiurnari, e n'avutra vòta nesci 'u suli dintra la vita ca circavi Ci sta cu ti dirà ca la tò vita un si può ffà pi comu ti la 'mpirugghi pi comu la teni ccà dintra stu munnu di civitteddi storie rure, paroli persi, nzoccu arresta di sti jurnati nzoccu nesci di sti finestri senza cchiù amuri, sulu spiranza e la biddezza di lu to risu a rinfriscari i ciuri sicchi li filici chini di virdi E li sonni ca tu teni bedda mia, sò tutti persi e la cuirenza è arristagghiu di ideali cummattusi e custruimmu n'avutru cielu ca, bedda mia, tu fai agghiurnari, e n'avutra vòta nesci 'u suli dintra la vita ca circavi. E addumannu n'avutru cielu ca, bedda mia, ni puoi addumari mentri taliamu lu tò suli e li tò occhi c'arritruvasti. E arripigghiamu chistu cielu ca, bedda mia, ti puoi sarvari cu la gana di chista vita ca ti vulisti arripigghiari.
4.
If the lightweight of the air could cut my dreams through my hair, maybe I’d get who I am what I am doing, what’s the claim. If the cherries on my hands could just walk through the stands, maybe I’d get who I am what to sing, who to blame. So I would break the spell of other lives, be the chanteur she would be asking for, so to listen to the great void, the sound of a humanoid If the lightweight of the air could cut my dreams through my hair, maybe I’d get who I am what I am doing, what’s the claim. If the dust of my chords could memorize these fallen words maybe I’d get who I am what to play, what’s my name. So I would break the glass of sazerac, sing the glory she would be aiming for, but then you’d listen to the great void I try to hide and possibly destroy. But now here I am, so free and frail staring at the sea in a winter night and I keep telling to myself and I keep telling to myself... You can be whoever you want... You can be whoever you want...
5.
The Master 04:22
What's the legacy of the master when the master leaves the road, that's the question that is rising that's just all we need to know. And what's the legacy of our sister, when she goes off that door, the sorrow beneath the shoes, the remarks from the clouds And the certainties have departed, the legends disappeared, their words set into stone to savour this deadly world. What is left is a land of weeds, a land of plain dark vows, where the message from the master was never understood What is left is a road of potholes, a road without a light, where the message from the master will ride unnoticed: maybe it will get lost into the darkness of our towers without songs. What's the legacy of the master when the soaked road ends, the lyrics in my booklet, the music in my set What's the legacy of the lover when she leaves your empty room that's the mystery you'd keep distant that's the elephant on the door
6.
L'argentina cunzata di biancu nesci pa strada, tutti l'omini si vutanu ammirannula bonu, e lu suli si adduma cu tunta biddizza li neuli si scugnanu pi nun farici scuru. E l'argentina camina, pari veru d'argentu cusciuliannu pî strati dû paisi cuntentu, l'acidduzzi a friscari pi farici armùnia e lu trenu si ferma p'un farla jiri via. L'argentina cunzata di biancu si lascia talìari, 'u sapi ca chistu munnu addumanna caluri e la pioggia s'ammuccia p'un farla vagnari, e lu nenti fa nenti ca nenti hav'a fari. E l'argentina camina, pari veru d'argentu li so' occhi du laghi ri blu cristallinu, lu ventu si carma p'accarizzarla cchiù pianu li finestri aperti pi sintirne lu ciavuru.
7.
Indifference 05:12
The sign, a plan I was scraping, the very fact I was lying at myself. Solitude is an enemy I was caressing the very fact I was singing out of tune. The lake, I never dared to reach the lake the very fact I'm tied to my roots. That lady, a love I was rejecting the very fact I couldn't love anymore. Indifference, two more steps, nothing left to say Indifference, heartbeats turning into raindrops Confidence is a friend I punched away the very fact I cannot think anymore. The way, the way I had to lose again very fact I­ just cannot grow up. The garden, a concept I never had for me the very fact I just don't want a home. (and you know, there is no home after all) Radio, I never dared to turn you on very fact I'm no vintage guy. The airport, a building I always liked very fact I need to travel more. The future, a word I never felt like mine very fact I am quite scared of death. The music, that's what I'm doing now very fact I'm just a dreamy boy. The cigarette, something I never gave a damn the very fact I'm quite bound to life. And Berlin, it's a city I found by chance: the very fact I am not indifferent, to life.
8.
Girls of Prague they look so nice in their autumn silhouette while bridges burn with morning cries and leaves are covering their spice and there is a land of plenty here where cinnamon covers my scars where silence is another fear that I struggle to keep afar Girls of Prague their eyes just laugh if you dare to spend one sight in their unreachable white skin there's a sea of beauty where to swim and some might even stop by as I'm playing my usual song lost in a lonesome empty park while the evening meets the sun. And my destiny will take its road and I'll have to pay the toll while girls of Prague will see I'm just made of chocolate about to melt down with the light waiting for another day to come as long as I will stare right here singing lullabies from hell. And there is nothing left to see And there is nothing left to sing except the unreachable beauty of the girls of Prague
9.
M'attrovu, m'attrovu, un sacciu unni m'attrovu, cu m'u fici fari di venìri ccà dintra n'avutru tipu di realtà. L'aria fridda parissi frisca, silenziu, u ciumi s'arriprìa, la tierra sutta li nostri pinzeri, iu ammucciatu pi quarchi sinteri e la lòggica un ci sta pi veru: genti cu cani ca canusci tutti, e un canusci a mmia, cristianu dû munnu pi chistu, un fantàsima p'iddi E lu ciumi s'adduma, lu ciumi ni cunta un trenu pi casu mi passa ri ciancu e lu ciumi ni specchia, si specchia pi veru cu friddu ri l'acqua e l'aria ccà gghiusu e lu ciumi talìa, lu ciumi ni cunta stori d'avutri cristiani, r'avutri eri tucca a nuàtri capirli i traducirli si nna firamu a parlari 'a sò lingua M'attrovu, m'attrovu, cû sapi unni m'attrovu, ma a na cuarchi manera sugnu ccà dintra na storia ca nun vosi crià. Lu scuru spacca li mè raggiuni, silenziu, u ciumi ca ni talìa, la tierra ascuta li nostri vuci e iu m'assuppu pi chisti strati amentri u munnu sta jennu 'n guerra tuti sciarriati senza bisognu aceddi nivuri, chini di raggia pi chistu senza cchiù spiranza E lu ciumi s'adduma, lu ciumi ni cunta ni passa ri ciancu e un ni n'addunamu lu ciumi ni specchia li facci ch'avemu cu friddu ru siccu, ra siti ri l'odiu e lu ciumi talìa, lu ciumi nni viri stori ri nuatri fitusi, nuatri pirduti tucca a nuàtri firmarci, a nuatri canciarci si nna firamu a affruntari stu ciumi E lu ciumi talìa, e lu ciumi talìa (casi n'assicuta) ...mentri talìu stu ciumi.
10.
And I’m watching from a distance while dreaming of the ladies pretending to read that Carver’s book and I know she’s somewhere while staring on her shoes pretending to have a life of fame and her joyful tears, her words of kindness they just get lost into the evening lights. And the girl of Gràcia she’ll watch and hear the bluesy boy playing on the street she’ll search for love or just to be loved while this stupid world, this seizured world is just plain blind tonight. And I’m writing with a distance while dreaming of the ladies and pretending to care of other souls and I know she’s somewhere, even better just anywhere approaching silently the deaf, and the sense of this is just the sense of whiskey: to just get lost and forget about the rest. (we should better forget about the rest) And the girl of Gràcia she’ll watch and hear the bluesy boy playing on the street she’ll share her smile from a brainsmoke cloud while singing along, singing along, singing along inside her mind. And the girl of Gràcia she’ll watch and hear the bluesy body playing on the street she’ll share a word after the last tune just to get closer, possibly not too much. And the girl of Gràcia she’ll play her life at the promenade with guitar words she’s never dared to learn and maybe she’ll search for love or perhaps just to be loved.
11.
Things 04:19
Things, things, things, they run so fast and cry aloud as they push for another way out. And you, you can't understand me, I feel like dumb, I feel like stoned but I need you like a new drug. And the bill has come, the time has come to share some words, to share the truth as you're there lying on a cloud and here I am, to make you fall. Things, things, things you can't predict, you can't control, as they appear and stop your road. And life is a boarding scene, a light that turns on the night, but I need, I need that special drug. The world is stupid, the world is yours, at least that's what you used to think, but don't think twice, give me an answer, give me an answer now... It's 2am, Potsdamer Platz, my eyes are off, my stomach's gone, I think of you and what remains to discover the actual truth. The shock is there, the mind is down, the neon lights to make me high, they're threatening my daily life, they're threatening my daily life, they're threatening me once again as I stand still on a thin wire.
12.
Badalona. Na cusciuliata pû mari amentri talìu li palmi 'u vent friscu ca nni fischia dintra li capiddi mè pirduti. U mari, cosa 'nfinita ca nun si può spardari, ti ci puoi perdiri 'n cuattru mossi mentre talìi li fimmineddi ca arridunu - puru idde! - a lu mari. E si ci fussi 'n aldilà sugnu sicuru avissi lu mari, accussì l'almi si putissiru arripriari dopu na jurnata sutta stu suli E si la picciotta di la costa bedda, li sò capiddi na festa, si vòta e talìa ntî mè occhi sugnu sicuru: mi vaiu a perdiri comu 'n aceddu sutta droghi comu 'n aeriu senza mappi comu li picciriddi unn'è gghiè comu mia, dintra 'u mari.
13.
Blues is a murder awaiting to happen, a sword ready to threaten, a drop of ink on the pavement a different kind of treatment Meanwhile I am breaking the bottle, with an atmosphere so subtle made of a purple fog of currant a smell coming from the basement But my boss is ready to make me fired, he always needs me scared so to better control his people like a Korean despot in trouble But now I'm stuck in a place with no name where silence is all I can obtain and life is a pretentious search for the wind until you'd realize that you're mad But now I'm stuck in a place with no name where a painful blister is what I can claim as I run alone, along the slippery road preparing to battle against my cloud And I am stuck at my door with no name waiting for the storm to start again 'cause I can't sleep while I am roaming around all I've got is a Dutch rain with its unique sound.

about

Forced at home due to the COVID-19 lockdown in Barcelona, Angelo Romano decided to put his hands on "Southern Lights", arguably the most beautiful of his albums to date, to bring it back with a more fashionable, mature and professional sound.

Mostly written during a three-day voluntary exile in the Catalan hamlet of Borgonyà immediately after a December 2016 concert tour, "Southern Lights" is Angelo Romano's first recording since his relocation to Barcelona after eight years of living between the Netherlands and Germany.

In its original version, the album was also deeply influenced by the participation of Barcelona cellist María Borrell, who had been performing live together with the author since July 2016 and takes part in all songs, audibly driving the tunes into a deeper and more intense path. Violin player Nacho López (friend and regular performer together with Angelo's friend Davy Lyons) is also present as a guest performer in all songs.

On this revised version, inspired by years of touring as a solo artist as well as with his electronic alter ego Bald Chewbacca, Angelo re-recorded all bass guitar tracks and provided more prominent parts of electric guitar and synthesizers. All songs were also re-mixed from scratch and then remastered in a more professional way by Giuliano Gius Cobelli (TAAK Studio).
A bonus track, "Stuck in a Place", together with an official "lockdown music video", was also recorded at Angelo's flat for this specific reissue.

credits

released May 22, 2020

* Angelo Romano: acoustic guitars, electric guitars, lead vocals, synthpad, synthesizers, bass guitar, bass ukulele, sound effects, field recordings
* María Borrell: cello
* Nacho López: violin

Additional personnel:
* Juan Manuel Castrillo: sound art support, field recordings on "Na cusciuliata pû mari"
* Davy Lyons: backing vocals on "The Great Void"

Tracks 1-12 recorded by Mariano Toledano at Akrasonic, L'Hospitalet de Llobregat, Spain.
Additional parts (bass guitar, electric guitar, synthesizers, backing vocals) recorded at Angelo's home, Barcelona.
"Stuck in a Place" recorded at Angelo's home, Barcelona.
Original field recordings made by Angelo Romano in Barcelona, Mazara del Vallo and Lampedusa. Additional original field recordings made by Juan Manuel Castrillo in Badalona.

Produced and mixed by Angelo Romano.
Mastered by Giuliano Gius Cobelli at TAAK Studio, Barcelona.
With special thanks to Oliver Hasse for his outstanding and valuable production support in the original release.

All songs written by Angelo Romano (in English and Sicilian).

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Angelo Romano Barcelona, Spain

Born 1982 in Sicily, Angelo Romano is a singer-songwriter with a totally personal approach to music and arts. His life is kind of a weird storybook, with several cities all around where he spent some time and lived his life: from Pisa to Florence, from Ottawa to Amsterdam, from Groningen to Berlin, Utrecht and then Barcelona, where he is currently based. ... more

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