A rainy September afternoon in a dark semi-rural studio in Thessaloniki. After a series of unfortunate events until I got there, my bad luck seemed to recede with the beginning of our conversation with Lia. To put you in the mood, the Lia Amp is a city artist. She composes, writes, performs and teaches. I knew her as a drummer, but beyond that I've seen her sing, play keyboards, saxophone, guitar. I could go into more detail but we have come here for another reason.
We are looking for stories.
Stories behind pieces.
With Lia we talked about her new album, the Half Step Forward. I was free to present any of the stories I wanted, and believe me, there were many. But I ended up with the one behind the Point and Shoot.
When we got to this track, my first question was why there is such light music in a track with such a "serious" title, and if this contradiction was intentional. The answer was positive.
This piece I think does a shockingly good job of portraying the image I wrote it for.
The story begins. You meet a person with whom you have gone your separate ways. The feelings haven't completely disappeared, even though it's a person who has hurt you. You end up together for a while...
…she lies down on top of me, I stroke her hair, and I look outside at the falling sun and the dry grasses, the sea behind... and this is the image in my mind now. Its what on earth I'm doing, its bad for me, but its one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen this. So the lyrics are literally that.
The strands of hair under the sun feel like a distant memory resumed, because I was literally experiencing at that moment what I'm talking about, which was killing me... I couldn't have what I wanted so badly at that moment, and I knew it was also killing me, both having it and not having it.
And with your fingers on the gun you shout all positions are assumed, The which means how ό,what and To you do, you're done. Any choice and To Get(…) με kills psychological.
Pull the trigger no one knows, I’m not bitter hear me howl. (…)Μου έκανε πολλά. Κι εγώ δε μπορούσα με τίποτα να της κρατήσω κακία. Προσπαθούσα να σκέφτομαι ότι μ’ έχει πληγώσει, ότι μου ‘χει κάνει χίλια δυο,(…) αλλά εγώ εκεί.
A glimpse of light on your smile tastes like an iceless whiskey dry. Because whiskey has a very important thing in itself, on the one hand it doesn't go down without some ice, but on the other hand for some reason when you're sad you want to down it like that. The sun shining down on you right now is like the whiskey that I don't want to put down but I kind of want to.
Silence is not your gun though it might seem so tempting. That's very literal because we didn't say anything about this situation. We knew and οι both what what's happening, what what we feel…
The deed is done, your time is over, point and shoot, I’ve passed the flame, the dance is over, the melody stopped, point and shoot… Nothing, which means the end, what's done is done. It's over. There goes our dance, there goes everything. Put to an end.
The second voice that is heard at the end of phrases and in the chorus also has its importance. It was the dialogue between me and the person who was with me, who I was sure was feeling and thinking exactly the same things. This is the only part (of the album) that is dialogic and makes the feelings of two people involved.
A piece about the dead end, about the paradox, the plausible and the real, the prolongation of the end and at the same time its finality. The beauty of a moment in a painful experience, the futility of knowing that every choice will lead to the same outcome.
Point and Shoot.
📝: Anna Maria Louloudi
