9/6/23

Music Recommendations for September: Laia Llach, Florencia & The Feeling, Bonnie and Taylor Sims, Amulet, Sandy Bailey

 

 


 

You might glance at the name Laia Llach and think “Welsh.” Nope. She’s a Catalan folk and pop singer with a degree in environmental studies, the latter a value she weaves into her 8-song Sol d’hivern (“Winter Sun”). Others deal with memories and self-affirmation, but she’s also interested in music as a healing tool. Consider it accomplished. The title track alone does so. It is so warm and inviting that no hot cocoa analogies need apply. “Serà La Pluja" (“It Will Rain”) is uncomplicated and gorgeous, with Llach’s sunny demeanor exuding the promise that all will be well. She’s like a delicate bird wafting above troubles. “Campanelles” (“Bells”) doesn’t clang; it a gentle call to play, explore, and revel in nature. The closest she gets to dark is “Dos Sogons” (“Two Seconds”), which is short and a little moody, but the emotional honesty of the song dispels doubts. When she lays down a song such as “Llum” (“Light”), it’s a promise, not a hope. Llach exudes clam and genuineness. In a world of challenges and fear, I adore her to pieces.  

 

 

 

Florencia Rusiñol has a degree in music therapy. Birthday, the debut album from Florenica and The Feeling is both good for what ails you and a cause for celebration. Rusiñol is Canadian-born and of Argentinian extraction. She and her five-piece band now live in Johnson City, Tennessee and, though they call themselves a funk pop fusion band, the emphasis is on fusion. You’ll hear echoes of Latino, cool jazz, and a few other influences as well. The title track features one of the album’s themes: recovering from a bad breakup. But what you’re likely to notice first is the song’s quirky little vocal runs, one that’s somewhere between a stutter step and staccato. She’s more explicit about her yearning in “Meant to Be,” with its memorable line: I can’t erase your shadow from my bed. “Que Será” has a torchy feel melded to a retro pop ballad and “What Can I Do?” is a jazzy take on pop power. 

 

 

 

The new self-titled album by Bonnie and Taylor Sims is loaded with songs for, in their words, “a shifting world marked by the juxtaposition of beauty and pain, hope and destruction.” I’m not sure that’s a new global shift, but you get the picture. Bonnie used to head a lineup called Bonnie & The Clydes and there’s a decided outlaw country streak in this record. Listen to Bonnie lull you into a nice calm place before airing it out on “Devil and the Deep Blue Sea.” Because Taylor plays acoustic guitar the “duo” is often labeled a “country folk” act. But as you see, that’s not always the case when Bonnie plugs in and percussion and electric bass ring out. They do get quiet on “Liza”– just guitar and mandolin–but again, Bonnie’s voice rings out strong and bold. Taylor also has an inviting voice, as you can here in swingy little roadhouse “Side by Side.” They’re based in Colorado these days, but when they sing “Texas Again,” they’re not tourists; they hail from there, the song’s bluegrass feel notwithstanding. 

 

 

 

 

I could do without the pointless electronic noise of “Introduction,” but Amulet settles into more appropriate arrangements on Petit Viking. Amulet is the stage name of singer Antoni Mulet who is from Mallorca, a favored resort in Spain’s Balearic islands chain. Spanish and Catalan are spoken there, but islanders prefer their own dialect. Forgive the linguistics lesson, but it’s my way of saying I have to take Mulet’s word that the songs are based on the hero’s journey and focus on various struggles. The music gets pigeonholed as “indie folk,” but when guitar and banjo share space with brass, explorative keys, and the strident fishorn matters get more complex. But songs like “Estrella” do have a folk feel and what’s a recording these days without a love song like “Amor?” Checkout “Surt, Petit,” which gets my vote for a reason to keep things simple.  Note: There used to be a punk band called Amulet. This performer has no connections to it.

 

 

Let’s round out the reviews with some homegrown Western Massachusetts grit. I first recall Sandra (“Sandy”) Bailey tackling a Mavis Staples song and thought, “Well that takes moxie.” I was wrong. It takes a strong, powerful voice and she has one. Bailey is where Norah Jones meets Susan Tedeschi, Bonnie Raitt, and Patsy Cline and they get together to slay some tunes so get out of the way. Bailey has edge. Check out the album cover, an ironic mash up of a country queen dress and non-Nashville footwear. “I Ain’t Your Honey,” evokes classic Motown with a splash of country pop and a smack of don’t mess with me. How about some ukulele-driven blues on “Already Down.” Her album Daughter of Abraham is full of soul, country blues, gospel-influenced, and Americana offerings. The title track is about a runaway enslaved man walking to freedom. It is done with appropriate dignity and determination: He almost forgot about the holes in his shoes/When his stomach started growling. It’s a different kind of pain, but “Bottles of Emptiness” says it all. I’ve long admired singers who forget about the glitz and just air out the songs. That’s Bailey in a nutshell.


 



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