If you have not listened to this song yet, you are safe and then you’re not. If you’ve listened to this song, you’re safe but you know you’re not.
The first eight bars of this song are enough for you to know how strong and addictive the impression this song will leave you with is. It starts slow, just the strings, nothing serious and then she…. She sings!
I wasn’t planning on talking about the lyrics here, and I won’t. But the very first line is the listener’s moment of truth. Where she takes you on a seemingly peaceful journey to a far away land. It always leaves me lucid, teetering at the edge of reality and very eminent trances. It is in this moment where the song will read you your rights, right before it arrests you.
In her own words, she says this song is a tale of distance and home!
“It’s about everything that I love about my motherland. When you’re here, you can’t stand it. When you’re away, you miss the heck out of it.”
And as she sings through it all, you can feel, smell and touch the homeliness of this place she calls Omuka – home, you can feel if not see the distance that has her heart troubled so. It’ll make you nostalgic of a future you are yet to experience. One you only experience in your dreams.
I want to warn those that haven’t listened to this song yet. There are “Things You Shouldn’t Do/Have/Be” as you listen to Omuka.
- Don’t listen to it on a cold sunday afternoon. Don’t.
- You shouldn’t be single or recently heart broken and/or lonely. This is for your own health.
- Discard all texts from past not-so-successful relationships.
If you choose to listen to it on a cold Sunday afternoon, grab a cold drink, your bae, set up the camper chairs and start dreaming. This song was written by a dreamer for dreamers.
Here is Omuka, listen and please leave your feedback in the comments section or you can tweet her @moroots.