A music video is generally a state of mind, a form of artistic expression that often transcends the constraints of a cinematic narrative. This happens especially when we are talking about a song without lyrics and, therefore, without a concrete verbal message. This is the case with ‘Seven Flavours‘, directed by Gairah Praskovia and created and performed by the Demo Rumudo band, which gives the viewer the absolute freedom to find their own means of understanding the central concept. It’s almost impossible for that jazzy rock instrumental music not to convey positive energy and an almost contagious vitality, it’s true. But when it comes to the visual layer, the perspectives can vary. Thus, since the very title, we can see how the number seven constantly appears throughout the unfolding of black and white animated images, as a kind of leitmotif, but also as a kind of key to the interpretation of the entire cinematic material. Obviously, such a number with magical meanings can stimulate the more “circumspect” viewers who, for example, can see in the elements related to tarot or sacred geometry a precise intention on the part of the creators, with the aim of evoking a rather occult message.


And yet, this animated music video is far from an elitist experiment. It is much less a hermetic project that would use such symbols in a somewhat ostentatious manner, like Jodorowsky, for instance. Rather, this whole parade of sometimes naive, sometimes erotic animated images is a psychedelic trip that, just like jazz fully embracing improvisation, playfully joins symbolic or cultural references without any other predetermined intention. We could thus say that we are in front of a project that happily adopts a technique familiar to surrealism while it perfectly suits the “libertinage” jazz assumes: automatism. In other words, it’s hard to tell what message Gairah Praskovia’s project wants to convey when it seems to combine references to classical Japanese erotic art or BDSM techniques, details reminiscent of “teen wolf”-ish movies, the visual experiments of Hans Richet, or the work of artists such as Marjane Satrapi or Aleksandra Waliszewska. Still, this form of decryption is not necessarily a goal itself but the pleasure of savouring the spontaneity with which the images are moulded on the instrumental vibe. Therefore, beyond any more or less exaggerated interpretations, ‘Seven Flavours’ will give you that dose of pure energy and craziness you need when you feel like you want a total disconnection.