i'm sorry not say many words,it's because i don't speak english. 
but i can say that the cd are wonderful.... and the cd arrived very well.
                     thank you so much!!!!!!!
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RAULZITO
Jay Vaquer
Green Island Recording Lab
 
Playgrounds Magazine
By Curtis Lynch

The CD slides in with barely audible rasp, and as the lasers do their thing, deciphering the aluminum pits, the Rocker turns up the volume, puts down the top, eases his machine into gear and into the night…
Jay Vaquer’s RAULZITO blasts into the first verse of Rock do Diabo as the Rocker lightly weaves through the late-night traffic, feathering the throttle until Jay reaches the solo and the Rocker reaches County Line Road. With his right hand, he nudges up the volume another notch while his right foot bears down on the pedal.
The road to Darlin’s house comes up sooner than expected, the Rocker intent on the heavy riffs has to apply brake, much to his dismay, spraying gravel and dirt, sliding into the turn, but quickly steering his machine toward the single porch light straight ahead. Darlin waits on the porch swing, the light above the door and the occasional flash of the bug zapper casting her fine profile in stereo against the wall. She slips from the flickering shadows, silent as a thought, slim as a chance, a wraith resplendent in UV, she glides across the hood and into the front seat in time for the country steel guitar of the third track, Sem Voce.
But by the time they’re back on the paved road, and Jay is nimbly rapping out the lyrics to Baby, Darlin’s mood, initially buoyed by the rockabilly strut she first heard, is turning quicker than the Rocker’s odometer. “What’s this stuff? What’s he saying?”
“Settle down, Darlin this is Jay Vaquer and his new CD, RAULZITO, it’s all songs written by him and Raul Seixas, a hot-shot rock star from Brazil.”
“So why are we listening to it?” Darlin had little patience for anything new or different. She thought CDs and cassettes were a passing fad, and she was holding on to her eight-tracks, just in case.
“Why do I listen to anything, Darlin? This stuff rocks1” The Rocker advanced to track nine, ROCKIXE. “Listen to the way Jay spits out those vocals, those menacing guitars, this is90s rock as aggressive as any of those guys like Limp Biskit or Korn. I even hear some Red Hot Chili Peppers on some tracks. Story goes, Jay was gonna use Raul’s vocals over Raul’s own songs, but re-recorded in a more modern vein. Various legal problems prevented that, so Jay just sang’em himself. I’ve never heard Raul, but you can’t help but wonder what that would’ve sounded like…”
The Rocker glanced sideways at Darlin, who had quit listening to him about a chorus and a half ago. “Where do you find this stuff?” she asked.
“Playgrounds Magazine interviewed Jay last month. Interesting stuff. Jay’s doing a video for Rock do Diabo at Al Who’s on November 3, gonna have everybody dressed up like angels and devils, gonna be on MTV Brazil, oughta be wild.”
“Well, you won’t find me there.”
I already figured that one out, the Rocker thought to himself. He decided to try one last time. “Does it really matter what language he’s singing in? I mean, listen to Baby, this song is sexy and rockin’ all at the same time. I don’t know whats he’s singing, but I know what he’s singing about, you know?”
“Not really, no.”
The quarter moon shown high in the autumn sky, and glinted off the quarter-dollar in Darlin’s hand. She watched his tailights quickly disappear. As the Rocker accelerated into the night, in the half-second he depressed the clutch between second and third, he realized that twenty-five cents wasn’t enough for a pay-phone call.
“Ah, c’est la vie…” and the Rocker smiled, marveling at his command of Spanish…
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