Listen closely and I will tell you a tale, but I warn you, it’s kind of beauty is bleak and miserable, for the heart can be a place whose hollow halls are filled with the ragged moans of despairing ghosts. In these halls our hero resides, his black suite hanging on his shabby frame like a curtain, stroking his beard in endless bemusement, as he ponders the infinite “what now?”. He chews relentlessly on the marrow and splinters of nostalgia for adventures that once were, the ones that got away, the hearts that used to beat as one, whose rhythms have been replaced by the ceaseless bone-crack hammering of the clock at the end of his chamber, the clock that stares at him with it’s great unblinking lens, day and night demanding that he plead his case, validate his existence, or at the very least put money in the meter for the space he’s taking up.
There is an echo, after every step he paces, he stops and listens, sure he hears something, almost catches it, and then it’s gone again. A voice, a song?
This is where our heroine resides, in the space between his footfalls, in the pause before the pendulum on the clock changes direction, at the ebb of each breath. She doesn’t know she is lost, orphaned, forsaken, and so she dreams in color while the walls around her peel and sag, while the ashes of her lovers pitch up in the icy wind and swirl around her, weaving streaks of grey into her once raven-dark hair.
She is aware of our hero, senses the whispy veil that separates them. Sometimes when a mood finds her, she plays upon her strings and sings to him, setting the notes on fire one by one so as to blow the ashes through the gauzy veils to rest upon his dark lapel. And when the clock is feeling merciful, sometimes, our hero picks up his own instrument and together they find the music to give solace to the ghosts, to sweeten the bitter bleeding of the heart, to celebrate the intense longing and desire that marks the soul as human.
“Saldaje” is a phonetic spelling of the Portuguese word that means “an intense longing or desire”, a fitting title for “The darkest ukulele band in Northern Michigan”. Saldaje’s repertoire consists of mostly original songs, –haunting, apocalyptic folk ballads with an old-world flair.
Saldaje is Melonie Steffes and Shaun Anchak, and a growing family of assorted ukuleles, a violin, mandolin, guitar, toy piano, and harmonicas.
Some of their influences include: Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, Nick Cave, Suzanne Vega, Nina Simone
Contact and booking information: firstname.lastname@example.org