Album Review: Quiero Comer Tus Labios / Senin Ağzını Yerim by Sinan Özen
Let’s cut to the chase—Sinan Özen’s Quiero Comer Tus Labios / Senin Ağzını Yerim is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. Released in 2003 under Akbaş Müzik, this Turkish gem blends Folk, World, Country, Pop, and even a dash of Latin flair into something oddly unforgettable. It's like sipping strong coffee while staring at the Bosphorus; it hits deep but also makes you wanna move.
The album kicks off with its titular track, "Senin Ağzını Yerim" (or Quiero Comer Tus Labios if you’re feeling bilingual). This song? A vibe. The lyrics, penned by Mahmut Yazıcı, are raw and poetic—like someone spilling their soul over a plate of kebabs. You can almost picture Sinan sitting cross-legged somewhere, strumming his guitar, lost in thought about love and longing. The arrangement by Metin Özülkü gives it layers—there’s a softness to the melody, but then BAM! It builds into this Europop crescendo that just sticks. Honestly, I couldn’t get the chorus outta my head for days. It’s catchy without being cheesy, which is rare these days.
Then there’s another standout, simply titled "Quiero Comer Tus Labios." If you don’t speak Spanish or Turkish, no worries—it’s more about how the music feels than what it says. There’s this sultry rhythm running through it, almost hypnotic, like when you hear waves crashing against rocks late at night. Serdar Ağırlı did wonders mastering and mixing this one; every beat lands perfectly. And let me tell ya, hearing Sinan croon “quiero” gives off major telenovela vibes. Like, dramatic enough to make you grab some popcorn but smooth enough to keep you swaying.
What really ties everything together is the production team. From Ali Osman Akbaş to Muammer Akbaş, they clearly put heart into this project. Even the design by Kezban Kır has this retro charm that screams early 2000s Turkey—a mix of bold colors and dreamy imagery. Oh, and props to Koray Kasap for the photography; it adds an extra layer of authenticity to the whole package.
But here’s the kicker: despite all the polish, the album doesn’t feel overly produced. It’s got grit. It’s real. It reminds me of those summer nights where you sit outside, listening to random tunes, and suddenly realize life isn’t so bad after all. Weirdly comforting, right?
So yeah, Quiero Comer Tus Labios / Senin Ağzını Yerim might not change your life, but it’ll definitely give you a few moments of pure joy. And honestly? Isn’t that what good music’s supposed to do? Now excuse me while I go listen to "Senin Ağzını Yerim" again… maybe this time with actual kebabs.
