Suzanne Vega, cantante y compositora, nació el 11 de julio de 1959 en Santa Mónica, Los Ángeles, California.
A los dos años de edad, se trasladó con su familia a Nueva York. Se crió en el barrio hispano de Harlem; a los nueve años escribió su primer poema y con catorce empezó a componer canciones. Cursó estudios de danza contemporánea y frecuentó los clubes de Greenwich Village mientras asistía a clases de literatura en la escuela de arte Barnard College.
¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------# #This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the # #song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. # #------------------------------------------------------------------------------## <[email protected]> To: [email protected] Subject: /v/Suzanne.Vega/Language.tab
LANGUAGE (Suzanne Vega) ----------------------- [I learned this from the book _The_Authentic_Guitar_Style_of_Suzanne_Vega_, published by Cherry Lane Music. No guitar-playing Suzanne Vega fan should be without it. Buy it; it's only $12.95, and it has very good transcriptions of eleven songs from Suzanne's first two albums. If your local music store doesn't have it, do a special order or call Hal Leonard (Cherry Lane's distributor) directly; that's how I got it.]
Every chord in this song has exactly four strings in it. Play each chord as an arpeggio of six sixteenth notes (each chord is half of a 12/16 measure.) Here's an example:
A(9)/E G/DCmaj7Bm7Am9GG/FG If language were liquid, it would be rushing in A(9)/E G/DCmaj7Bm7Am9GG/FG Instead here we are, in a silence more eloquent than any word could ever be A(9)/E G/DCmaj7Bm7Am9GG/FG These words are too solid, they don't move fast enough A(9)/E G/DCmaj7Bm7Am9GG/FG/F To catch the blur in the brain that flies by and is gone Esus4Esus4/BEsus4Esus4/BF#m7(4) F#m7(4) G6(9) G6(9) And is gone, and is gone, gone, F#m7(4) F#m7(4) G6(9) G6(9) Asus9 Asus9 Asus9 Asus9 Gone, gone, and is gone
I'd like to meet you in a timeless, placeless place Somewhere out of context and beyond all consequences Let's go back to the building on Little West 12th; it is not far away and the river is there (Words are too solid, they don't move fast enough) And the sun and the spaces are all laying low, and we'll sit in the slience that comes rushing in (To catch the blur in the brain that flies by...) And is gone, and is gone, gone, Gone, gone, and is gone
I won't use words again, they don't mean that I meant, they don't say what I said It's just the crust of the meaning with realms underneath, never touched, never stirred, never even moved through If language were liquid, it would be rushing in A(9)/E G/DCmaj7Bm7Am9GG/FG/F Instead here we are in a silence more eloquent than any word could ever be Esus4Esus4/BEsus4Esus4/BF#m7(4) F#m7(4) G6(9) G6(9) And is gone, gone, F#m7(4) F#m7(4) G6(9) G6(9) Asus9 Asus9 Asus9 Asus9 Gone, gone, and is gone [repeat and fade]