There are winners in this world. There are losers. And then there are the people lucky enough to get to write about them. And, since very few of us get to be observers, let alone innocent bystanders, those who have been afforded this luxury had better give a lot of consideration to what they say.
Eduard Banulescu seems to be aware of what it means to watch the conflict of the world from a safe distance. The songwriter, however, doesn’t seem to know what it means to provide honest reporting, or may simply not care about the consequences.
The first people who get hanged from a tree are the truth tellers, the reporters who fairly jotted down what everybody was doing while the chaos was raging. Perhaps that’s the reason why there are so few truth tellers and few reporters that one can trust nowadays.
Maybe this is why so few modern songwriters would rather just be pop stars and not have to deal with it all. It must’ve been bad enough to receive angry mail from unhappy record buyers. But it’s a whole other matter to become the target of online bullying just for stating a fact.
On “Winning Ticket,” Eduard Banulescu dares to dream. In this illusion, he is the one chosen to be the winner, picked for a special mission, able to look down on the huddled masses.
But listen closely to those jazzy guitar lines, to the drum kit showing restraint, and coming together like the soundtrack to a David Lynch movie that the director never got to make. Clearly, this is a fantasy.
It’s another punk-influenced single from Eduard Banulescu, a songwriter who sees the world as it is, but wishes he didn’t have. It’s another fantasy that may one day come true. But will its author have the stomach to describe the consequences?
