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Jaco is light. Jaco is an element. Jaco trusts poets. The street adopted him to wander. And wandering he was hitting his biography on the map of a gypsy caravan that spread across the world. Jaco knows the revelry. Jaco knows vertigo. And with the delicacy of a wanderer he presents himself as a product of fragmented love. A hurrying chimera. Probably, if you ask him for an address, he will distract you with this record, his home, for now, until he leaves again for another start, without a ticket or previous notice. Jaco is like that. A geographical accident. A weathercock that spreads texts, sounds, images and perfumes, across the roofs of the Earth. He told me that poetry is where he jumped the walls of what was done for him. I believe. Jaco Loredo is a registered idyll, a unique, fiery character, artistically mature and complex, full of myths and tangents. A summation of the multiple division, in an "inebriation of the diverse", as he himself likes to classify this gear. Throughout his life, sometimes as Thiago de Almeida - his own body - other times as Jaco Loredo - the invented body -, he has coupled to his poetic fury different creative manifestations, people, places, and experiences. His interests - ranging from Literature to Cinema, obviously passing through Music, but also Philosophy, his area of formation - are shaped by the revelation of an intelligent, attentive to the world and scathing intervention. The emergence of an ethics of encounter, of arrival at the other, moves him. This album also contains the Jaco we know from projects like La Macchina Volante, but the oratory is new and, in its own right, brings reminiscences of a more distant past.

 

A. Rafael da Silva