Yonlu - A Society in Which No Tears Are Shed Is Inconceivably Mediocre [Album]

Luaka Bop

Some of you reading this will be familiar with the sad tale of Yonlu. While knowing the story isn’t essential to listening to his music, it does add a great deal of depth to the experience.

Vinicius Gageiro Marques was a 16 year-old boy living in Porto Allegre, Brazil and the only child of successful parents. He spoke Spanish, French, and English. He was a photography hobbyist, recording his daily life with a camera. He was also a remarkable musical talent. He played guitar, bass, and drums and recorded hundreds of songs, adding sound effects he found or recorded in a room in his house he used as a music studio.

About a month before his 17th birthday, Marques locked himself in his bathroom and committed suicide. He had left a letter absolving his parents, explaining that his suicide could have been neither foreseen nor prevented, but that his life had become unbearable. He encouraged his parents to listen to his music if they missed him. When his father began going through his computer, he discovered a trove of songs, many of which were available on various websites. He also discovered his son, who went by the pseudonym, Yo√±lu, was a popular Internet musician with fans as far away as England, Scotland, Belgium, Canada, and North Africa.

Many of Yonlu’s songs have been available in various forms and places, but David Byrne’s Luaka Bop imprint has released a collection of his music entitled ‘A Society In Which No Tears Are Shed Is Inconceivably Mediocre.’

Most of the songs on this collection remind me of some cross of Elliott Smith, Badly Drawn Boy, and Nick Drake, but with flourishes of Brazilian music and a fearless willingness to experiment. I will not pretend to like every song on this album, but anyone who ranges around this much won’t please everyone all the time. The number one thing I ask of musicians when I listen to their work is don’t bore me. None of the music on ‘A Society in Which No Tears Are Shed…’ is boring. A few of the songs lose me. “A Boy and a Tiger,” for example, is at times a Gaucho dirge and at times a techno rap song and all the while he plays with recording speed and effects. It is courageous, interesting, and not for me.

Much of the music, though, is haunting, beautiful, and often uplifting. “I Know What It’s Like” is an up-tempo bossa nova song that would be at home on an early Simon and Garfunkel album. “Katie Don’t Be Depressed” is a beautiful poem set to a dreamy little melody with unidentifiable sound effects in the background for texture.

The range of styles in which Yonlu was comfortable composing is impressive. “Deskjet Remix with Sabrepulse” is a pretty song (seemingly with a desktop printer providing the percussion samples) that Squarepusher would be proud to have written. “Estrela, Estrela” is an irresistible Spanish acoustic lullaby. “Waterfall” is a heartbreakingly beautiful and ultimately hopeful song with a folk feel.

All suicides are tragic, but ‘A Society in Which No Tears Are Shed…’ shows us that Vinicius Gageiro Marques’ death was a loss even to those who never knew him. It is difficult to disentangle the music from the sad story that now surrounds it. This collection now stands as a marker, commemorating a life that was too short and a talent that could have enriched many lives for years. Still, the music was made by a living artist and even taken on its own merits, this collection is remarkable.