Customize Consent Preferences

We use cookies to help you navigate efficiently and perform certain functions. You will find detailed information about all cookies under each consent category below.

The cookies that are categorized as "Necessary" are stored on your browser as they are essential for enabling the basic functionalities of the site. ... 

Always Active

Necessary cookies are required to enable the basic features of this site, such as providing secure log-in or adjusting your consent preferences. These cookies do not store any personally identifiable data.

No cookies to display.

Functional cookies help perform certain functionalities like sharing the content of the website on social media platforms, collecting feedback, and other third-party features.

No cookies to display.

Analytical cookies are used to understand how visitors interact with the website. These cookies help provide information on metrics such as the number of visitors, bounce rate, traffic source, etc.

No cookies to display.

Performance cookies are used to understand and analyze the key performance indexes of the website which helps in delivering a better user experience for the visitors.

No cookies to display.

Advertisement cookies are used to provide visitors with customized advertisements based on the pages you visited previously and to analyze the effectiveness of the ad campaigns.

No cookies to display.

Mr. Henry – “Running Slow”

In “Running Slow” la voce di Mr Henry letteralmente cola come miele su di noi. Brevi rintocchi di chitarra ed aria tutt’intorno, un fiume, un’ambiente che si percepisce al limte ed il suggerimento di una vita più consona e legata ad un rapporto più sano con la natura.

Lo schema classico: la chitarra, la voce, la natura. Il perfetto equilibrio delle parti evita che “Running Slow” diventi stucchevole, mantenendosi invece in un campo pulito, limpido e toccante. Mr Henry avanza inesorabile e lascia intendere che non è soltanto il mondo tormentato quello che gli appartiene, bensì l’intero terreno più evocativo del cantautorato folk, del racconto, nonostante a nessuno interessi del nostro andare.

No one cares if we burn
If there’s no way to return
Till it comes to you ‘n suddenly turn your head
Is it this what you call being on the edge?

Even if we’re running slow
And your heart is feeezing cold
‘n please just leave us be,
We’re not strong, we are just free
Like the mist
On the river
Flowing to the trees