Luz De Estrellas Muertas

This song has a date and place of birth: a Midsummer night, once the beach had gone quiet. Lying on the sand, looking at a clear sky, I told a friend something that has always struck me: some of the stars we were looking at no longer exist, and yet their light keeps arriving. I was not composing anything; it was just a calm conversation. But the idea stayed.

What I did with that image is about time and about how we look: almost everything we see, of stars, of people, of ourselves, is light that left long ago and arrives late. Old versions that keep shining as if they were the present, and the question of what we do with that light. The song takes it into the territory of love: two people floating outside time, where what they were before stops mattering.

The title may sound dark and the song is just the opposite. The dead stars are there for what they teach about time: their light keeps arriving long afterwards, and it is we who decide what to do with it. In the song that idea becomes almost a promise: even if one day everything goes out, something of this will keep travelling. That is why my favourite line is the one about the echoes that refuse to fade. It is not a sad line, it is rather a stubborn one.

The lyrics happen inside that image, not in front of it: two people floating weightless, with no ground and no sky, in a place where time breaks when they touch. All the vocabulary is of space: light, signals, expansion. But what it tells is very much of the earth: the moment someone goes right through you and what came before stops mattering. It is a short, direct song: it comes in, says what it has to say and leaves.