"este es un dia especial"

For a brief time in the summer of 2005, I fell briefly but hopelessly in love with a woman whose already-shaky marriage I longed desperately to wreck. This could be, I realize, a dangerous thing to admit, especially coming off of a day devoted to all things love-related; but what, after all, is more romantic than a love transcending silly things like age and the sacred bond of marriage? Months later, I remember her fondly, vividly; she had dark, sharp features, perfectly mysterious, my own personal femme fatale, absolutely devastating; oh! and her smile, her smile was the thing that drives man against man, that drives poets and sculptors to create visionary art, that drives a full-time worker to a community college Spanish class night after tedious night. And the body; do I even need to mention it? Indeed, it would cause the most refined, composed, antilibidinous gentlemen to swerve off-road if it entered his frame of vision, if only peripherally! Day after day I saw her, and swooned. And mentally marked her: she'd be mine. Simple as that. Failure wasn't an option.

A good conversation is all i need, and I got it, too; we bonded, initially, over a Spanish-to-English dictionary that I admired and asked about (even though, honestly, I knew right where to find the damn thing in any given Borders-- 'fact, i had one myself), and sailing was smooth from there. Things progressed accordingly: one conversation becomes two, a second conversation becomes daily conversation, daily conversation becomes late dinner after class, late dinner after class becomes... well, kids, I can't give everything away, can I? The juicy parts aren't relevant anyway.

What's relevant is that Spanish class. She is-- and will remain, long after our relationship has been dissolved, long after she's decided (regrettably so, but i get it) that we'd do best to simply sever entirely-- all i'll remember, in a larger sense, about the summer of 2005, largely forgettable in the grander scheme of things, but entirely memorable for a brief but passionate (and, in retrospect, impetuous, irresponsible, and morally dubious) love that centers around one silly hour-a-night Spanish course. I didn't gain any greater grasp of the Spanish language than the limited one i'd already had, of course-- I had much more important course objectives-- but now two things are inextricably linked in my mind: the Spanish language and the Italian woman who will forever distinguish one summer from a lifetime of 'em.

Which means that when it came time for me to dust off Shakira's Fijacion Oral Vol. 1 album and finally give it a listen-- i'd owned it long before summer's end, of course, but without my understanding of the language had decided to devote time to people like Common and Bruce Springsteen, because their words achieved instant emotional catharsis, no translating involved-- I'd already had one instance of lost love behind me, and I was considerably surprised at the emotional content contained within.

**

It's fair, of course, to say that I (perhaps unfairly or inaccurately) cast my own lovelorn shadow over Shakira's record; but doesn't any good music listener do the same? Are we to listen to music on a purely cosmetic level, or on an emotional one? Can an album really affect you emotionally when you don't understand a lick of the language being spoken? Despite being on my way to a degree in the writing studies and being easily swayed by hip-hop, that genre most wholly dependent on the power of words and a deft manipulation of language, I'm gonna go ahead and say yes.

Lying awake at night with her in my head and Shakira in my ears on those hot summer nights, tossing my bare frame around, comforted by the hum of the fan propping the window open, wondering where, if anywhere, this love could possibly go, something remarkable happened: I heard Shakira's lyrics, which are entirely sung in the Spanish language on this album, and connected. There was an instantaneous emotional reaction, and I can remember it vividly: myself, splayed across my bed, looking up at the rotating shadow the fan would cast on the ceiling when the moon was just right, improbable and inappropriate tears charting a course 'cross my face because even though I couldn't tell you exactly what Shakira was singing about, I got it, man... I got it.

Album opener "En Tus Pupilas" engages from the start: the instrumentation is folkish, if folk music was generally whispery (which, in my experience, it is) and meant to seduce (which, in my experience, it isn't; although an argument could be made as to why it should). "La Pared" is big, noisy, and passionate-- Shakira's voice is big and throaty on the chorus, and the drums are big and punchy-- but a comparative listen reveals the "version acustica" near album's end to be the touching, haunting piano ballad that, listening to the two side by side, "La Pared" was always meant to be. Folksy instrumentation and piano balladry, of course, figure precisely 0% into Fijacion Oral's first and most prominent single: "La Tortura," featuring Alejandro Sanz. It's got a fantastic, jerky, jumping beat to it (with big bass and the most random of rhythmic guitar flourishes), and i don't know who Alejandro Sanz is, but I'm in love with his raspy yelp on the choruses and his bridge rap.

Somewhere around the fourth track-- "Para Obtener Un Si," a sexy bossa nova torch song-- the depth and clarity of Shakira's vision becomes clear. Shakira wants to unify. Her influences are clearly scattered-- musical touchstones on this album alone could range from the new wave explosion to dancehall, and whatever's left in between-- and Fijacion Oral Vol. 1 longs to bring all that together and, somehow, make it sound coherent. And if it's not entirely coherent, I'd imagine Shakira'd settle for "really damn good." Shakira's sizzling bossa nova fades into "Dia Especial," a lovely low-key ballad that demonstrates Shakira's uncanny ability to take a turn into left field right when you think you know where she's going. It's not that the ballad is particularly wacky-- indeed, by pop music's standards, it's probably one of the most plain things on this album, nevermind how purty it is-- but the chords go into the most unexpected territory, or at least they're surprising and unpredictable to the western-pop-music-trained ear. This song's better in Spanish-- it's English counterpart shows up on Shakira's *other* 2005 album, Oral Fixation Vol. 2-- but perhaps everything's better in Spanish.

I like "Escondite Ingles" because allows me to entertain the notion that Shakira is absolutely batshit; or, more appropriately, she's unafraid to indulge her most left-field and looney tunes impulses and include on her album things like pounding drums, twee keyboard squelches, and throwbacks to new wave, particularly (as many other have pointed out) the B-52s. "No" is percussive and seductive; similar to "En Tus Pupilas" that way, but the major-key outro brings it home beautifully. I love "Las De La Intuicion" because it's processed and mixed like late-90s pop and makes me think about all the girls I should've taken to prom; that, and there's a bit of what sounds like a muted trumpet floating in near the end, and I think there's slide guitar at some point.

"Dia De Enero" is sprightly, pretty, and delicate; again, I don't know Spanish, but there's no way this isn't a love song. Not only a love song, but a love song that I desperately want somebody to sing to me. The lazily strummed acoustic guitars (think Jack Johnson, as much as you may not want to), the light percussion, the horns floating in and out of the background-- for little reason other than I like the vibe and the breathy high notes Shakira hits in the chorus, this cute little song may well be my favorite on the record. "Lo Imprescindible" isn't the perfect way to end the record-- I don't like the vaguely industrial instrumentation-- but i *do* like the melody in the chorus, so it's not a total loss. Rounding out the package are a reprise of "La Pared" (like I said, pretty, solo piano, and better than the original, which already had one of the strongest hooks on the record) and an unnecessary but inoffensive remix of "La Tortura".

Which wraps up one of the best records of last year-- in retrospect, it'd be a lot higher on my list-- a multi-lingual pop opus couched in the best traditions of Latin music, glibly wearing its influences on its sleeves, schizophrenic and heartfelt all at once. I'm never gonna forget this album, or the girl it accompanies. The two will remain forever linked; the music's strong enough that I'm willing to keep the memories around a while.

**

For another fantastic review of this album, read mrkstvns' take; this helped me decide to pick up the album in the first place, so mad props are due.