We all have a need for this place, somewhere pure we can visit, somewhere without the burden of existence. It’s a place very high up, where the cliff and the sky meet, and there her most unmediated self exists. Megan Harrington: This feels like a world of Solange’s own creation, by her own design. This speaks to me so much because it acknowledges the difficulties of self care in the context of self-sufficiency. Shopping, sex, crying, travelling - I’ve done them all to try and make the “it” go away, and I needed to do them all alone. “Cranes in the Sky” is about distraction, but it’s relatable because it doesn’t present a one-size solution to sadness, and it’s introspective even when Solange is at her most reckless. It wouldn’t work if not for the scattered rhythms she sings it in, the breathy overlapping voices, and the incredible restraint in the production, which all speak to a state of profound emotional directionlessness better than a minor key ever could.Ĭlaire Biddles: I think I find pop self-help narratives isolating because they’re never really about autonomy - they’re about going out with the ladies, finding someone to fuck, relying on other people to tend to the symptoms rather than addressing the problem oneself. Coping mechanisms, brutally exposed in plain language with few lyrical frills to soften them - something about her soft, love-song delivery makes stark lines like “I slept it away, I sexed it away, I read it away” into unforgiving gut punches.
#Cranes in the sky solange lyrics full
Tim de Reuse: Across a heavenly, sparse beat, full of tickly background elements that almost resolve into motifs or melodies or tonal centers but stay just out of reach, Solange sings about grounded things. As soon as it’s over, I can already hear it echoing in my head, waiting to fade in again. Then we have Solange’s delicate vocals: they come in lightly and caress until the finish. Lyrically, it’s simple in terms of structure, which again allows our ears to simultaneously guess at and expect the next line.
That initial hum and rhythm fades in as if it were emerging from a forgotten memory. Olivia Rafferty: Sometimes a song arrives which doesn’t feel like it’s been written, but instead unearthed.
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