The penalty of the news is this

Enric Hernáez dies, who, As Xavier Cervantes says in one of his chronicles sentimental and musical works of the ARA, he made "singer-songwriter" music in an unfavorable time, and even then one of his songs can't be played for more than two seconds on TV. "Enric Hernáez dies," says the announcer. She mentions a song and they show the frame of a concert; a drumbeat sounds, nothing more, next news. There's no time, we're piling up with injured football players and all the living, successful singers. Let's continue. We'll give more space to these lambs who have died I don't know where because the news is curious.

For me, Enric Hernáez, whom I met thanks to David Castillo, and whom I had heard on record and live, was many things, but he was the one who had decided that Palau i Fabre was incredible and had, with all modesty, favor and angel, put music to Anna's ShadowWith the Castle, finally, they made this one I don't forget you even when the harsh night opens.

With that sweater, without any semblance of anything, with that raspy voice, he sang songs and, luckily, there were people who recognized them and celebrated them and loved them. He liked Bob Dylan and he liked Neil Young, and the Beatles. A world collapses, things end, and the new ones perhaps no longer belong to us. We are ugly and unfortunate valuing what we have at home, whatever "home" is. We do it late, we do it little. I would never forgive myself for my laziness, my neglect, and my apathy. I search YouTube for some of his concerts, and I find the one at Fnac, with the sweater. I put on Anna's ShadowNothing could seem more moving to me, due to the sorrow of the lyrics and the brilliant delicacy of the music and the voice.