![]() ![]() But in a year like this one, it breaks your heart. Heard at any time in the four decades since its making, “Echos” would be touching. ![]() ![]() Listening to “Echos” is as poignant as stumbling upon a roadside shrine of flowers, candles, and photos, but Ferreyra goes beyond creating a memorial to Mercedes: She defies death itself and resurrects her niece as an aural apparition. At other points, the melted murmurs and shimmered syllables feel soothing and psalm-like, as though the girl’s ghost is mourning herself. In places, the young woman’s voice flickers and trembles with playful delight, sounding impossibly alive. Recorded in 1978 but released for the first time this year, the piece is woven entirely from the voice of Ferreyra’s niece Mercedes Cornu, who died in a car accident prior to its composition. Mhm, yeah, mhm Everyone got they glass out, let's drink to Weezy Every nigga that stare me down just came to see me Choppin' up a lil' cash cow, that's steak I'm eatin' Check deposits, high-risers with extra closets The sex platonic, I talk intelligent, text Ebonics The electronic guitars whinin', that's just Nirvana Tommy gun on the counter, I call it Mr.Argentine composer Beatriz Ferreyra is renowned for the disorienting spatiality and shape-shifting abstraction of her electronic and tape-based work, but it’s the human scale and raw intimacy of “Echos” that startle. used to throw a purple tint on a two-liter First private plane I ever rode was a eight-seater Before that, I got the bedroom hot with a space heater On top of that, I didn't have shit to my name either, that's real But now I'm givin' house tours 'til it's back to world tours Play that "Mask Off" when they find the real cure I might not be good for her, but I'm real to her Got no time for her, but give Richard Mille to her That's the only way I know how to express love My dawgs love sticks and drums like they Questlove All them jokes about Aubrey, they got me messed up, for real I come with a lot of complications inside me It's always people misleadin' me that are tryna guide me Everyone wants to try me, but no one wants to buy me Everyone wants to meet me, but no one wants to keep me Everyone talkin' lemons when everything is peachy Everyone got they hands out, and it ain't to reach me ![]() Ayy, the blues is now kickin', and dinner is three Michelin I don't eat red meat, but still got beef sizzlin' Know that I need discipline I keep singin' for all these hoes, they keep listenin' Niggas love to bro up with the boy and dap fists-es But we are not equivalent, dawg I been an only child, don't need siblings And I'm past them like the times that he's livin' in, okay Man, if you saw what I flew here, you'd be like, "He's sickenin'" If you not runnin' some top, we not gon' keep kickin' it Classics, I keep scribblin', lights in the Universal building just keep flickerin' Money just keep comin' in, you would think I'm Irish the way that it stays doublin' I could feed a country with the tax that I pay governments Whatеver they're doin' with my cash is vеry troublin' Okay, February came around, I used to get paid shovelin' Sold clothes, walked dogs, trust me, I stay hustlin' When it came to school, there's no way that I'm A-plus-in' it So I just dropped out of it, trust me, I'm not proud of it Niggas get too comfy in they spot, they get knocked out of it Niggas get a gun just so they can make props out of it Shawty make a scene in the house, she get locked out of it Yeah, you not 'bout to be chillin' in this bitch with kicked feet up I'ma make you bounce out this ho like Big Freedia Pete O. ![]()
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