Any of us, each of us, are necessarily a reflection swimming in an immense sea surrounded by threats, opportunities and many other living beings. We have a good job in managing our own flotation line, as well as choosing what to collect and dispense with waves, waves, etc. They come from the sides.

Asier Olabarrieta, a neighbor of Elgoibar, has immersed himself very deeply in experiences, thoughts or sensations, and in the last few swords of the pandemic, he has unfolded his head with a great deal to fine-tune and give birth to this work. Olabarrieta himself has written all the music and recorded many of his instruments. But in addition, in what can be an exercise fishing for pandemic hakes and others, the nets launched in the same estuary have been surrounded by fine friends to round the record: Silvia Hernandez on piano and choirs, and Josu Erviti mostly on batteries and symptoms, but also many other colleagues who have written the words or enriched the musical outcome of some pieces.

This abyssal work on songs' themes and environments to internalize the listener is very vigilant: It begins with whispers and humble (k)itos, but adding tribal rhythms and celestial choirs the piece becomes progressive and sasi-epic folky. The overflow has another beat and is quickly complicated, with symptoms, in a heavy granj-rock base song and rounded melody. The continuous interruptions are many of the soundtracks, with post-rock, darkness and a tempo similar to that of Jess and the Ancient Ones. It's a resounding silence that brings together pop-rock with orchestral costume, word-rock and post-rock -- the 21st century Spatial Root? Only today has I been reminded of the song Haritz Harreguy and Aitor Uriarte gave birth to a perfect balance between the Sen, pop and rock, which can be tiny. Finally, the author has returned to shore with enthusiasm and forcefulness: with a very intense and powerful rocker song he drinks from the Northern Masters.