February 2022 Music Reviews: Caamano and Ameixeiras, Claudia Combs Carty, Foundry Town Survivors, Rachel Magoola

 

The sounds of Galicia come alive courtesy of two talented young women, singer/accordionist Sabela Caamaño and violinist Anita Ameixeiras. Their album Aire! is mostly instrumental with either Caamaño or guest vocalist Sílvia Peréz Cruz adding occasional leads or filler voice. A reminder to those who have forgotten; Galicia is in the far northwest corner of Spain and was once the domain of Celtic tribes. Galician music sometime baffles listeners because it sounds sort of Spanish sometimes and sort of Celtic. This duo sounds more Spanish, but they also do things such as give a Galician and Basque spin on Bulgarian tunes, as they do on "Buchimista" which is also a good tune to check out because you’ll also hear Caamaño on the trikitixa, a two-row accordion common in both Basque country and Galicia that’s noted for having buttons on both sides of the squeeze box tuned a fifth apart. It produces a distinctive “stutter” effect that sounds a bit like bip-bip-bip or bup-bup-bup. “Maneo de Cambre” uses accordion drone to accompany lovely singing, though I confess I could do without the video’s weird improv dance which looks like Lurch having a spasm. “Alegría Dio’la dea!” has a better unusual addition, a bit of musical saw that I first thought was a theremin. Though the title track feels darker, the album’s overall vibe is of joyous village life, as you will experience to fine effect on “Florencío.” ★★★★

 

Let’s (sort of) stay in Spain for a moment I adore the voice of Claudia Combs Carty, a Barcelona native who now lives in Boston. On her debut record Phases, she accompanies herself on piano for the most part. She lays bare her soul on the breakup song “All That,” which she reminds is harder than it sounds when it’s a long-term relationship that’s been shipwrecked. “Don’t Blame Me” is another in this vein: Don’t blame me, don’t blame me/Even though it was my fault don’t blame me/Don’t blame me, don’t blame me/I’m the one carrying a heart that will never be free. In fact, you have to wend your way to the last track, “You Make MeWanna Stay” to get away from a theme she introduces in “Silent Whispers” where she proclaims, I’m a broke down woman. Carty’s voice will stay with you and is reminiscent of the go-low/go-high tones of Carrie Newcomber. The downside is that Carty’s tunes might not. I get it that most people want music in mp.3 form these days, but there’s a real problem with how producers fail to realize the need to record with more care; compressed files have less room to compensate for differing tones and volume. Carty’s a capable pianist but when the keys are too loud, the vocals sound muddy. Take away the mic from the piano and set her songs free. ★★★ ½

 

If you are of a certain age and grew up along the shores of Lake Erie near Detroit, you have witnessed the American Dream crest and crash. It’s no wonder that the Foundry Town Survivors wrote a song titled “Hope and Dreams” for their self-titled EP, though it’s actually about a drug-runner whose luck is about to run out. Ominous electric guitar interludes heighten the foreboding. The Factory Town Survivors are a rock band anchored by Mark Tomorsky and Tommy Johnsmiller. Theirs is a hearty blend of hard and soft rock spiced with psychedelia and folk rock. The latter gives them a unique flavor in that unlike (too) many hook-defined rock bands, they pay a lot of attention to melody and clear vocals. That’s crucial when you’re telling stories. “Foundry Town” starts with a carefree ten-year-old boy growing up in the shadow of factories and lakeside shipping and moves us to this: Now there is a man/He’s standing gray with time/He knows that his world is gone/But the memories are sublime. The man’s grayness is a metaphor for postindustrialism, a fact driven home by images from the official video. “Mississippi Rising” tells of flooding along the big river, but images from the 1930s are mixed with those from recent history to make us see that it’s mostly poor folks who suffer from events shrugged off as yearly routines. A splash of mandolin gives the instrumentals an Americana feel. It’s as if this band is Springsteen sans the gruff voice. If you need a break from the heaviness, cue “Everything’s Okay” and you, like the narrator, can muse upon finding your happy place and staying there. ★★★★  

 

Rachel Magoola lives in Uganda, a place whose recent history is far worse than Detroit’s. Instead of lamenting it, she became part of the change and got elected to Parliament. In addition to those duties, she’s a longtime member of Afrigo Band, Uganda’s longest-running musical act, and also fronts her own band. The very title of her new record sings to her optimism, Resilience: Songs of Uganda. Magoola can bring it and has rhythm to burn, but she largely ducks the diva role to be part of a richer musical performance. Watch her sing “Emaali (Bride Price).” She takes the stage Aretha-like, but melds with the band for a joyous dip into some singing, some stage exhortation, percussion galore, and some flute, guitars, and keys. The feel is more trance than star turn. “Otuuse (You Have Arrived)” is sunny, light, and swaying. Bird-like vocalizations from other band members lend the impression of a morning song. Magoola honors her mother in “Maama Mutesi,” and we often hear singing in the split-second spaces between xylophone and thumb piano notes. Note how the band introduces brass to embolden the tune. For pure fun, though, watch her video to “Mugati gwa Butter (Bread and Butter).” She threads the seams between performer, politician, elder, and teacher in a piece that suggests simple things like bread and butter take the sting out of minor annoyances. And dancing makes it better still. ★★★★

 

Rob Weir