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About Las Palmas

So, I’m cruisin’, tires screechin’, lookin’ for a spot where the ladies hang. Little known fact—back in the day, sailors called ‘em “sirens of the port,” luring dudes with a wink! I’m like, “Fancy a quick ride, lass?”—all pirate-y, SpongeBob style! Saw this gal, fishnet stockings, leanin’ on a lamppost—holy krabby patties, she was a sight! Made me happy, like fixin’ a busted engine on the first try. But then—BOOM—some jerk cuts me off, nearly sideswipes me! Got me ragin’, yellin’, “You can’t bomb me out!”—straight outta the movie, felt so badass.

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Oh, and lemme tell ya—sometimes I get mad, real mad at the noisy traffic near Avenida de los Jardines. Seriously, every beep makes my ear twitch. I can’t help it, I’m passionate about my art and the peace of this place. But then, I find a quiet corner near the river, and it all calms down. It’s like the city is apologizing with its beauty.

Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez: which recording is best?