A winter solstice by virtue of its January drop, Canciones Sobre la Vida y la Muerte – Songs About Life and Death – embodies the cruelest season while acting as antidote against it. From the Latin “sol” (sun) and “sistere” (to stand still), a solstice-like stillness hushes and holds its breath through Leti Garza’s bilingual meditation on mortality. Lullaby piano accompanying the veteran ATX serenader’s crisp, clear, timeless Spanish lends opener “En la Orilla del Mar” (“On the Edge of the Ocean”) a snow-covered solemnity, a natural clearing in the jam-packed roar of 21st-century hustle, bustle, and tech. Her wordless dovesong on the succeeding two minutes of “Nameless,” segueing into “Corazón Abierto,” blankets luxuriously. Trouble sleeping? Bliss out by track three. Canciones’ crystalline musical matte – piano, violin, plucked strings, and hand percussion – wafts a fine mist that lowers pulses like a midnight clear. “Sleeping Prince” shows off the Lone Star’s first language in a folksy crackle, and “Secrets” upticks samba-esque with a sax blowing pure velvet. “Play” wobbles painfully, but “El Baile” dances through Mexico, Cuba, Brazil. Like Eydie Gormé’s groundbreaking Amor albums from the Sixties, Canciones Sobre la Vida y la Muerte braces against the chill of mortality with warmth, comfort, and heartlight.

Leti Garza

Canciones Sobre la Vida y la Muerte


This article appears in February 2 • 2024.

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San Francisco native Raoul Hernandez crossed the border into Texas on July 2, 1992, and began writing about music for the Chronicle that fall, debuting with an album review of Keith Richards’ Main Offender. By virtue of local show previews – first “Recommendeds,” now calendar picks – his writing’s appeared in almost every issue since 1993.