SoFTT – Cerca Al Cielo

William brings us a Miami-based duo…

[Video]
[8.00]William John: It’s built around a beautiful cascading whirr. I was first exposed to the said whirr in a nightclub in Barcelona at around 2.30 in the morning; an excitable tourist, I’d been at the beach all day and was ready to call it a night far earlier, but, as the tourist is dutifully bound to do, I experienced an unexpected second wind and found myself queuing outside the Apolo among hundreds of others for a serving of Catalan July debauchery. SoFTT, who I later learned were a real-life couple, a burgeoning pop-trance act from Miami with ideas to burn, took to the stage and immediately launched into “Cerca Al Cielo”, and I felt like I was listening to the greatest song I’d ever heard; I remember taking my partner’s hand as the singer moved into her whispery double-time and us looking at each other, wide-eyed with euphoria. It felt like the sky was vermillion and that it was hurting with every heartbeat and that Michelangelo was close to touch and that all of these forebears had been stretched out over a loom together and woven into something unimaginably irresistible. I’ve returned to it countless times since that night, marvelling at its adaptability. Its melancholy is most piercing on cold, wet, low days, but when I’m feeling happier, listening to it is like floating, ahem, close to the sky. Let me whirr and whirr into the widening gyre.
[10]

Peter Ryan: Strikingly intimate, gentle, yearning, but incessant in its propulsive force; almost lullaby-like, making good on the meditative capacity of the genre.
[8]

Claire Davidson: My Spanish is pretty paltry, especially when hearing the language sung, so it’s hard for me to evaluate “Cerca Al Cielo” without a reliable English translation at my disposal. In terms of pure musicality, though, the track does offer some compelling material. Lead vocalist Kablito’s wistful vocals, when combined with the liberal usage of autotune one would expect in a track full of this many jittery synth lines, make for a poignant contrast between the song’s colder electronica and her faintly lovelorn delivery. Still, for a track that runs over five minutes, there isn’t a powerful enough sense of crescendo or dramatic stakes to justify this song’s runtime—not least because of the extended monologue that closes the song, which feels less like a definitive coda than a last-ditch attempt to import the track’s ideas from an outside source.
[6]

Julian Axelrod: Everything about this song should feel impenetrable, from the untranslated lyrics to the mosquito synths filling every inch of available space. But “Cerca Al Cielo” is an all-inclusive floor-filler that rewards close intimate listening. Somehow it’s both invigorating and soothing, as the constant pulsing thrum builds and builds until it sounds like TV static when you fall asleep on the couch. The title translates to “Close to the Sky,” and there’s an intangible weightless element to the track. When I listen on repeat, I feel like I’m in the engine of a 747, buoyed into the heavens by a force that could only come from machines.
[9]

Will Adams: The title is close to the sky, not in the sky, so perhaps that’s why the song never completely explodes in the way the chorus’s trance synths might suggest. No problem, though; the persistent, buoyant pulse is pleasant enough to coast on.
[7]

Nortey Dowuona: This was assembled in an hour by these weird little freaks. It’s amazing.
[8]

Ian Mathers: I think we could push those synths even more in the red and make those vocals even more pillowy soft, but that might be gilding the lily; I am already hooting and hollering in delight.
[8]