By Mike Sain't Louis ·
Ojalá se pudiera viajar a Gayfolk, the refuge planet
Have you never felt like grabbing a rocket and getting out of here? Not to another city, or another country. To another planet. One where you didn't have to explain yourself every time you opened your mouth, or defend yourself, or pretend everything was fine.
From that wish comes Ojalá se pudiera viajar a Gayfolk (If Only You Could Travel to Gayfolk). And for me it's almost the song that gives meaning to all the others, because it names the place where they live. GAYFOLK is an invented planet, but it's my refuge: the place where emotions turn into art and sorrow finally has its own music.
The planet's rules
What I like about imagining Gayfolk is thinking about its laws. There, being odd needs no apology. Loving doesn't hurt. And who you are isn't put on the table to be haggled over. They're simple rules, almost naive, but anyone who has ever had to hide knows what they're worth.
The song works as a metaphor for escape. Not a cowardly escape, but that of someone who needs to get away from what hurts in order to reinvent themselves. There's something of rhymed revenge in that: if the world doesn't make room for you, you build one yourself and fill it with songs.
This track is part of the album Descubierto un nuevo planeta llamado GAYFOLK (A New Planet Called GAYFOLK Discovered), a huge concept project of four hundred songs, in which each track is a small piece of a sentimental map. If you get lost in it, this song is like the entrance door, the welcome sign to the orbit.
Who would I dedicate it to? To everyone who has ever felt like a foreigner in their own home. To those looking for a place where nobody looks at them strangely. To those who have already found their own planet, even if it's a room with good music.
Listen to it on a grey day, one of those when the world feels too small for you. And when it ends, look out of the window. Gayfolk may be closer than it seems.