The fact that there aren’t a great many economically prosperous places left out in the Sun and blessed by eternally pleasant weather, can’t entirely be a coincidence. And, if it’s enough for the Sun’s rays to inspire, or their absence, to inspire a good or bad disposition, well, you just have to wonder if it’s the terrible storms and long winters that, beyond anything, make some countries rich.
What is certainly clear is that places where money is made, castles are built, and trade wars are won from afar are not the ones where people stop and chat about their feelings over a cup of coffee from three hours. Can’t find the time! People will judge! And, yes, who else will do the work.
Luna Keller’s “Rescue Songs” are not just personal reflections on love, life and heartbreak. They’re meant to be a service for the community. These are songs for everybody, and especially for the people who can only afford to carefully dissect their own existence on long and lonely nights.
It’s a dignified way of shedding a tear as far as audiences will be concerned. But for this arrangement to work, Keller spares nothing of herself. Just listen to the opening song, “Shivering,” a beautiful meditation on noon demons and internal pain. Keller’s carefully chosen words are backed by exquisitely arranged, minimalist instrumentation.
Meanwhile, “Burn Out the Sun,” might resonate the most with audiences in desperate need to regulate their own feelings. It is, after all, a song about giving it all in exchange for the truth, until all becomes too much. It’s a beautifully sung tune about drowning oneself in endless work.
And while Keller has hidden nothing of herself from the listener, the artist is well aware of her role here. The six-song collection was chosen together with the artist’s fans. The result is music that is supported by a community and that, as mentioned earlier, serves the intimate needs of the community.
Musically, Luna Keller’s work resembles the poets turned folk singers of the late 1960s. Her singing is warm and confident. But Keller never allows it to be the sole focal point. It’s the lyrics, and storytelling that are placed center stage.
These stories, on songs like “Don’t Kill the Butterfly” or “Same Street” nearly always seem born out of some heartache. These stories almost always contain some kind of hopeful conclusion. Even, “Oxigeno,” a song about our collective lack of responsibility over the fate of the planet, seems to suggest that the choice to improve remains ours.
Yes, Keller’s music is the equivalent of taking up residence in a small Southern European town. Here, people know your name, what coffee you drink and, most importantly, your troubles.
Where does it all leave us? On “Good Intentions,” Keller finally has to come clean and nearly asks the inevitable query: “Why do bad things happen to both the evil and the fair?” But, ever hopeful, she decides on another question instead. “How do we get through it every day with grace and hope for the future?” Keller knows a thing or two about that and her fans are lucky to share in this wisdom.
