There's something about Devendra Banhart you can't put your finger on. Becuase your finger's turned into a talon or a claw or a hoof and the song you were trying to pin down has squirmed away under the table, or has turned into a gaseous dream vapour and floated out the window. He's got a scattered, witchy, completely original voice that whispers little kid secrets, then belts passionately with a heart been done-wronged, then tries to put on the withered seduction of a wrinkled hag lost on an island for years. Then comes the workaday little chorus. La dee da dee AH! How does this song still remain so allusive, so cooool, after so many listens? I got no clue. Do you?
available on CD - Oh Me Oh My How the Days Go By
14 Jan 04 ·executiveslacks: I know exactly what you're talking about. I have that album as well and there's something - although I don't know what - that makes me keep putting it back on. It must be that voice. For the longest time, I couldn't even tell if Devendra was a guy or girl.
El correr de los dedos a lo largo de las cuerdas de una guitarra acustica. Una voz temblorosa. Una letra que quema los oidos. Una rareza y yo la encontr�.