There’s a black rain up above.
Out on the wind you hear her call,
She’s under your skin and you drift away.
She spreads her wings
When she’s gonna fly, the crow.
If you make her sing,
When she’s coming she will let you know.
Her frozen hand takes your breath away
As she leads your soul through the dark.
You know that she came to break your heart,
But oh, when she moves you fall in love again.
And she spreads her wings
When she’s gonna fly, the crow.
If you make her sing,
When she’s coming she will let you know.
She spreads her wings
And they black out the sun.
You won’t hear her sing
And she’ll leave when the damage is done.
Cold heart, warm gun, a dying sun…
Bright eyes, black soul, she’ll never let you go.
And she spreads her wings
When she’s gonna fly, the crow.
If you make her sing,
When she’s coming she will let you know.
She spreads her wings
And they black out the sun.
You won’t hear her sing
And she’ll leave when the damage is done.”
[ The Crow – Hurts ]
This photo… just happened. Really – and it’s a rarity for me, especially when my long-term projects are concerned – I just shot it, fell in love with it, and it started singing to me this song.
So, I was at BriarRose’s place and, among the bagillion things we end up doing at the same time, we decided to take a few photos with a “boudoir” feel to test my new softbox. We were mostly toying around with laces and silk robes for a few photos inspired by Portishead’s Glory Box, until BriarRose sat down, turned to me to tell me something, and I froze this exact moment, perfect light and all.
And I don’t know, it was just so The Crow it had to be in the project.
Just for the record, my original idea envisioned a fashion-oriented portrait from the collarbones up skimming over the keywords in the lyrics, so velied hats, feathers, a pale cyan background, blood-red lips and an innocent look to contrast it all. I think I got the song backwards: I would have gone for an intimidating, fancy outer appearance hiding an inner innocence, while the song is actually about the polar opposite. An intimate portrait of a young woman with such a piercing gaze goes much better with the lyrics and melody.
The reason is probably that I’ve had a weird relationship with this song: for the longest time, I kind of just heard it without really listening. I didn’t quite “get it”, so to say, I drifted off for its running time and didn’t pay it any more than the bare minimum attention. Then something changed, perhaps thanks to this photo, and it’s since become one of my favourites from Exile. I guess it just had yet to speak to me and I had to truly listen.