Jorge Drexler, who took home seven awards (out of nine nominations) during this year’s Latin Grammys, shares in the Variety Studio presented by DIRECTV that “Tinta y Tiempo,” his…
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Perfection is rarely achieved in movies, but this heaven-sent concert doc hits the sweet spot. Over two days in January 1972, the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin — she was 29 at the time — sweeps into the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts in front of a congregation and testifies to God in song. The blessed thing took nearly half a century to come out because director Sydney Pollack failed to sync the image with the sound. Then digital angels stepped in, and glory, glory, hallelujah!
Jorge Drexler, who took home seven awards (out of nine nominations) during this year’s Latin Grammys, shares in the Variety Studio presented by DIRECTV that “Tinta y Tiempo,” his lauded 2022 album, almost didn’t happen.
“It’s surprising to me that it was nominated, because I think from all the records I made, this was the one I thought I wasn’t going to be able to finish,” he says. “The isolation in the pandemic affected a lot, and I wrote a lot, but I couldn’t finish the songs.”
He learned an infinite amount during that time, forever changing his view of how to create.
“I thought [not having anyone to play for made the music] useless. I realized I write a lot more for communication than I thought. And I also realized that I don’t write alone. I need the presence of another human,” Drexler says. “There was one song that set everything in motion, and it’s the first song on the record. It’s called ‘El Plan Maestro.’ It was co-written with my cousin. She’s an astrophysicist from Venezuela.”
Nothing out of the ordinary to have a songwriting cohort who is both scientist and blood relative, when considering that Drexler and his entire immediate family are all doctors.
“My father is a doctor, my mother was a doctor, too; and my brother is a doctor. I just thought it was natural to finish high school and get into medical school. But I have also made music since I was five years old,” he laments. “For a long time, I thought I wasted 10 years of my life in medical school. But it made its way into my songs and everything made sense. And I found a language of my own.”
On his seventh album, he began introducing scientific views of love, relationships and the universe. The process led him to value musical collaboration as an intensely intimate relationship.
“Songwriting is a beautiful genre, and it doesn’t require the lyrics to be a perfect poem or the music to be a perfect music. It’s just that magic that you can’t really explain that brings the song alive,” he says.
Of his peers, he most admires Ruben Blades and C. Tangana, with whom he wrote “Tocarte,” in six hours, in one afternoon.
Says Drexler: “Blades is one of my main references. He is the most complete Spanish language songwriter whom I ever met. He writes songs that you can dance to for three hours at his shows, that you can relate with emotions, very deep, direct emotions. C. Tangana is amazing, too. He’s really something. He’s, I think, the most interesting composer in his generation with Rosalia and Bad Bunny, who I admire very much.”