AA I'm into poetry. I wrote a few lines. Don't worry; I offer just a few. This one details the passing of time: "The past is thirsty and the present is an athlete with no feet. How about this one? It's about a kidnapped girl in a dark room; her "hell" has no windows, because it's all dark, get it? And "the girl doesn't know that God also makes mistakes," because the kidnapped girl doesn't know that God, well, he's only human.
You don't think my lines are all that original? Well, don't blame me. I didn't really write them. They come from Guatemala's Ricardo Arjona, an excellent guitarist and singer, and potentially a great songwriter. He gained notoriety in with a song that opened with the claim, "Jesus tuned up my guitar. His ballads are predictable, his rockers Jurassic, filled with corny Eighties guitars and synthesizers.
His attempts at string quartet and wind sections, whimsical and disposable. Yet the state of Latin pop is so troubling, someone like Arjona can sell millions and be embraced not only by the masses but also by a sizable portion of the serious music elite.
Now people are beginning to call him "the Latin American Dylan. But Arjona definitely ain't no Silvio. Santo Pecado is nothing more than the latest in the Arjona Good Intentions series. That's another wisecrack, kiddies. If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
