2026 August Music: Rebekka Bakken, Crow and Gazelle, Ike Reilly, Effie Zilch,

Andrew Duncan, Stephen Dayvid McKellar

 

 

Rebekka Bakken is a Norwegian singer with a voice that is reputed to stretch three octaves. Some have called her a jazz singer, but she gets miffed when she’s placed in a box. Her new album Nord explains why she’s resistant to labels. “Mitt Hjerte Alltid Vanker” (“My Heart Always Wanders”) features a frenzied percussive instrumentation topped by haunting, slower vocals that evoke something spooky and ancient. “So Ro” (“So Calm”) similarly suggests something from the mists of time. Especially as dressed up with clarinet, pounding drums, and a splash of didgeridoo. Bakken can also enchant in English, as you can hear in “My Choicest Hours” As you might surmise from these three songs, Bakken might get called a “jazz” singer because her music is simply so different that no one has a better label. To me, though, her powerful voice has been forged in the dramatic Scandinavian past that has spilled into the present. That’s Syrian vocalist Saleh Mahfoud adding Arabic passion in “My Choicest Hours.”

 

 

Crow and Gazelle is the musical and life partnership of Mike McClure and Chrislyn Lawrence. They are about 180 degrees from Rebekka Bakken in that their arrangements are sparse and their vocals built upon close harmonies. Their new album Truth Be Told celebrates connections found, lost, and rebuilt. “The High Road” speculates that maybe life doesn’t move in a straight line, as good an explanation as any for how solid connections sometimes have to come around for a second act. A start, stop, go lick on guitar underscores that sentiment. “Sky is on Fire” is an ominous warning poem set to appropriate music, with vaguely Native American background textures. McClure and Lawrence like to mix poetry with music, but this one could be the soundtrack for the Apocalypse.  Luckily Crow and Gazelle bookend their album with the joyous “Down the Road.” You might wish to check out “Belly of theBeast” as well; as the PR material puts it, it’s where reflection gives way to confrontation.” A lot of folks are wondering where that tipping point is located. McClure expresses the sentiments that a “spiritual war” is gathering steam in which “love, not domination” will triumph. We can only hope that he’s right. Lawrence’s vocals set a gloomy picture of deep-seated divisions, the likes of which some activists think require a more confrontational approach.

 

 

The new LP Blind and Surrounded is something of an Ike Reilly family affair in that his son Shane is now part of the band. That said, Ike doesn’t go in for a lot of roses and rainbows. It’s more like hard luck, gravel-and-spit vocals, and gritty guitar. “Life and Death in East Moline” sounds a bit like an amped up John Prine offering without a wry smile. The lead guitar on “We Better Get Packed” cranks out danger in the form of getting out the door before whatever’s chasing you catches up. The song titles alone tell a story: “Bad Bad Man,” “Who’s Been Hurtin’,” “Gone For Forever….” Even the brighter tune of “New Bad News” has doubt in its DNA. But Ike’s best trick is putting pain and bad times in musical wrappers that make you want to rip up the dance floor before heading down the road.

 

  

San Francisco-based Effie Zilch is the duo of vocalist/guitarist Evanne Barcena and guitarist/producer Steve Wyreman.  As a producer, Wyreman has worked with heavyweights such as Mary J. Blige, Lauryn Hill, and Rihanna, but if you think they have big voices, wait until you hear Barcena. As long as it has a groove– blues, funk, gospel, Motown, rock–Barcenas can sing it, and with gusto. Higher Calling  is the duo’s fifth LP and if it doesn’t get you moving, schedule a hip replacement. “On the Loose” sees Barcenas belting, I’m going to change the game/I’m going to break the rules, and we believe her. She goes for a big gospel sound on the title track, sounding a bit like Mavis Staples, and for funk on “Lover Boy,” though you guess is as good as mine about what the giant duck in her video is trying to convey beyond the assertion, I get what I want. (PS: The name Effie Zilch doesn’t signify anything; it was an invention of journalist Herb Caen.)

 

Not the album cover of Mend

 Last year I was wasting time on the Internet. I ran across a young Scot named Andrew Duncan holding court in London’s Trafalgar Square with his acoustic guitar and in occasional duos and bands with other musicians. This May, I was in London and, lo and behold, there was Duncan still busking in Trafalgar Square. I picked up a copy of Andrew’s CD, Mend. It has eight tracks, so it’s something in between an EP and an LP. Duncan has an inviting voice that’s slightly on the sweet side of things, but he also casts youthful cool. Here he is in London laying down some grooves and loops to sing “Mend.” It takes serious power and more mental agility than I possess to create his one-man band effect. It’s the only complete song from the CD I can find online at present, but he also does amazing covers. Check out his take on “Use Somebody” (Kings of Leon) or with Atticus Blue singing Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars.” You’ll notice that the crowd is bigger when Duncan does covers (Adele, Bastille, Coldplay….) Consider that tons of singer songwriters began as buskers working for tips in all kinds of weather. (He and I chatted in the rain under an umbrella.) The lucky ones score a hit so those not paying attention can wonder, “Where did this guy come from?” The streets, my friends, the streets. If there’s any justice, Andrew Duncan will be one of those who break through. Nice guy. Good songs. Great with tech. Strong guitarist. Hard worker. That ought to mean something.

 

 

Steven Dayvid McKellar was born in South Africa and now lives in Los Angeles. He’s an artist in multiple senses of the word. In addition to be a big-voiced singer and a songwriter, he’s also a poet and a painter. His latest EP is Harbor, Volume 2.   “Me and the Trees” is a mix of gentleness and full-blast vocals. Don’t worry about decoding it; McKellar is taking stock of himself. “The Nag in Me” has an introspective late night jazz feel. “My Own Heart” is my personal favorite track. The dark piano and pain in McKellar’s voice accents the reoccurring question How can I have known? That encapsulates both his fears and his hopes. It has just enough ambiguity to make us uncertain that a happy ending will occur.

 

Coming Soon:  Jason Heath, Jordan Whitmore, Frank Viele, new releases from Grey DeLisle and Surrender Hill, and more. (Yeah, I know that sounds like those dumb TV commercials that promise “Up to 60 percent off and more.” (Up to and more being your definition of a basic contradiction!)

 

Rob Weir

August 2024 : Jayce Turley, Olcay Bayir, Little Falls Trophy, Los Ruphay, KJ Denhert, Biel Marti

 

 

 

Kentucky-bred Jayce Turley is just 19-years-old, but he and his band Cardinal Point impressed me greatly. The LP Broke Down is Americana in a broad sense: a bit of folk, a bit of country, some blues, some rock…. Turley’s high tenor is a pleasant and comforting contrast to the sizzle he and the band work themselves into. “Rust” is about being who you are, not a label slapped on you. You should note the ease with which Turley and the band play off each other and the maturity of Turley’s vocals. The video of “Misery” is solo acoustic, but you can detect some blues-rock styling. It’s a true-to-life murder ballad that happened in his hometown. “Broke Down” is about those moments in life when things are going well and then they don’t. In this case it’s a recounting of his van breaking down in Ohio that features some bluegrass(ish) fiddle. “Liquor Store” is country mixed with rockabilly. Turley has another song (not on the record) called “Getting Out of Kentucky.” I have a feeling this young man will soon be able to go wherever he wishes. 

 

 

To my chagrin, I’m terrible at languages. I wish I could tell you exactly what Olcay Bayir is singing on her glorious album Tu Gulî.  It’s not French, rather an Anatolian dialect and she is a Kurd who lives in London. The album title means “You Are a Rose,” but I would call the album a jewel. In addition to Setero Kurdish, Bayir sings in Turkish and other unfamiliar (to me) tongues. The best way to appreciate her is to listen. Try “Edle,” which opens with primal ululation. Its joyousness and steady hand percussion bespeak the fact that it’s a wedding dance. (It sure beats “Here Comes the Bride!”)  Both “Tal Tala” and “Nare Nare” are traditional songs, the first upbeat, the second emotive and slow. “Adana” is mournful, but for a reason. Bayir takes us to Armenia to sing about the medez yeghern, the “great crime” of the 1915 genocide of Armenians by Ottoman Turks. Call it the album’s sad song. It’s simply uplifting to listen to the gifted Bayir.

 

 

I’ve always maintained that genres are necessary for consumers but tricky in application. Both “folk” and “rock” are out of fashion these days (they appear as either country or Americana), but Little Falls Trophy is decidedly a rock band, albeit one that gravitates toward the softer end of the spectrum on Dutch Motel. Little Falls Trophy is the namesake for singer/guitarist Doug Albregts, and his songs are inspired more by The Beatles than the Rolling Stones or metal music. He's a Wisconsin native who moved to New Jersey and named his act and the studio musicians he assembled for an actual trophy shop in Jersey. Albregts retains a lot of rock n’ roll attitude. “Thursday is Friday” is a drinking song that advocates getting a liquid head start to the weekend. The guitar-forward “Irreverent” also packs ironic insouciance. “Universal” is more jangly and has smooth vocals but mixes noise with quiet interludes. “Jamie and Jimmy” is solid storytelling and “My LittleSunshine” has surf guitar riffs. In all, a very good record.

 

Short Cuts

 

 

 

In 1968, a group of Bolivians, especially Aymara Quechua Indians, formed Los Ruphay. “Ruphay” means ray of light in Quechua, and the group’s repertoire spotlights Andean music heavy on panpipes and charangos (a plucked guitar-like instrument). The Three Seasons of the Andes is a posthumous collection of music from former leader Mario Gutiérrez. Sample the haunting “Lupi pacha” and the more pastoral  “Thaya pacha.” Among other things pacha means land, soil, and place.

 

 

 

On her new album The Evening News, KJ Denhert offers jazz standards such as “Surrey with the Fringe on Top” and “The Street on WhichYou Live” with re-imagined pop songs the likes of “Postcard from Paris” and “Eleanor Rigby.” I must admit that soft jazz has always been background mood music for me, but Denhert, who is often categorized as an “urban jazz” singer,” is clearly talented performer and lives up to the hype. Now if I can only figure out how “rural jazz” differs from what city slickers sing….

 

 

Biel Marti is a Catalan folk artist based in Barcelona. His newest record Somnis per a tu i per a mi is a pleasing singer/songwriter album in any language.  The title song has a sweet melody that contrasts a slight vocal rasp, and “Primavera” (“Spring”) has a catchy chorus that invites you to learn enough Catalan to sing along. The album title translates “dreams for you and me,” and isn’t that one of the things folk music does best?

 

Music for April 2024: Otava Yo, Steve Martin, Robby Hecht, Afro-Semitic Experience and more

 

 

I avoided Russian music in protest against the war in Ukraine until I came upon the St. Petersburg-based Otava Yo whose spearhead, Alexey Belkin, also opposes the war; he has a Ukrainian mother and a Latvian wife. Otava Yo has suspended concerts in Russia because of the war, a gutsy move given Putin’s iron hand and a reduced opportunity to shop its new recording Loud and Clear. I don’t speak a word of Russian, but I can tell you it’s one it’s an exciting record. The band is often called a folk rock band because of its emphasis on traditional music. In Belkin’s words, “[in] turbulent times … [when] everything we know literally crumbles before our eyes,” a return to heritage reinvigorates. (They also add modern touches.)

 

Otava Yo display an array of expected instruments–fiddles, guitar, bass, drums–but also those less familiar: glockenspiel, fife, gusli (a psaltery in the zither family), zhaleika (a type of hornpipe), and volynka (Russian bagpipes). Add the female vocal ensemble Vasilisa and the result is something that sounds like a hybrid of Swedish folk/grunge band Garmarna and the high-octane vocals of Finland’s Värttinä. Try “Don’t You Fly, Nightingale” for robust singing. Though it’s one of the more “subdued” pieces on the album you can see and hear what Belkin means about leaning on tradition during trying times. “This One” gives insight into their goofy sense of humor and how a gusli integrates into a tune. For crashing sounds, lusty voices, bagpipes and psychedelic fiddles, “Good Evening” will get you energized. “Timonia” reminds me of Quebeçois music when the performers decide to go full-scale insouciant. It’s over the top, but in a good way! I love Otava Yo and Loud and Clear is my album of the month.

 

 

I vividly recall when Steve Martin did a standup act at my Pennsylvania college before  he was a big star He was so funny that we rolled out thinking, “Who is this guy?” Back then, he had a banjo as comic prop. It’s no longer a secret that he really knows how to play it. If you’ve not gotten the word, listen to him exchange licks with Grammy Award bluegrass banjo artist Alison Brown, mandolin wizard Sam Bush, and Grammy Award fiddler Stuart Duncan. Martin even handles the vocals on “Bluegrass Radio” on a new Compass Records release.

 

 

New Haven-based Afro-Semitic Experience began as the meeting of two jazz-infused minds, African-American pianist Warren Byrd and bass player David Chevan, a white Jew. It grew into a movable feast of up to eight musicians in a mixed-race ensemble that ventures into jazz, funk, world music, swing, group singing, and social justice offerings. You’ll hear most of them on My Feet Began to Pray, words attributed to the late Representative John Lewis when he was a young man on the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery. The band commemorates that episode, all so traumatic back then but now a pivotal moment that justifies the group’s sunny  treatment. Check out Byrd leading the band in “Unity in the Community,” which has a decided Black church feel. Then duck into the synagogue for “Rakhmones Nign,” rakhmones being Yiddish for mercy or empathy. “Moanin’” opens with some scat and sways into bebop-influenced jazz with sizzling horns and swinging keys. Get the picture?

 

Anandi is the one-name handle for Portland, Oregon-based jazz singer Anandi Gefroh. A Better Way is jazz-based but contains message music, some rock instrumentation, and tinges of pop. Anandi is Sanskrit for bliss and she brings that, her yoga practices, and her devotion to social justice to the fore. The title track, for instance, probes homelessness and poverty. Producer/keyboardist Greg Goebel lays down solid hooks that add drama to Anandi’s simple-yet-profound condemnation of the status quo: There’s got to be a better way. She gives a big-vocal bluesy soul treatment to “Truth, Peace, and Solitude,” a call to balance body, soul, and mind. Other songs are reverential (“Mandela”), reminders that love can be like Kahlil Gibran’s A Tear and a Smile (“Pleasure With the Pain”), and pleading with a scintilla of common sense (“Please Don’t Go to Bed Angry”). She also does a jazz cover of Jim Pepper’s “Witchi Tai To,” widely regarded to as the first Native American hit single back in 1969. You can decide what you think of a non-Native woman covering a peyote ritual chant. 

  

Robby Hecht titled his new release Not a Number. It’s the title track as well, his attempt to put faces on the Covid’s human toll. His echoey guitar is designed to haunt and hurt. In numerous ways, the same sentiments are personalized elsewhere. This album deals with other forms of misfortune, disappointment, and struggle: divorce, sadness, recovery…. Hecht’s voice is perfect for conveying poignancy–sweet, but with a hint of pain. Note the content and video visuals of “Someone to Dance With.” He sings: I’m trying as hard as I can/To follow the steps of my well-rehearsed plan/To keep my wingtips on the ground/But up in my head I’m spinning around. The vid ends with dog adoption, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the dance he envisioned whilst acting as the proverbial third wheel. “Old Radio” is surface nostalgia, but its folk-styled wistfulness suggests both memory and yearning. As a transition Hecht offers a mirthful homage to “Tattoos.” That’s not my thing, but if it’s yours it’s show-and-tell time. I’m always a fan of well-crafted songs, though, and Hecht delivers.

 

If you don’t know the difference between bluegrass and “old-time” music, the first is recently composed and slicker, whereas the second is traditional and more raw. Listen to Molsky’s Mountain Drifters for a clinic in the latter. Bruce Molsky plays banjo, guitar, and fiddler but it’s the last of these in which he’s in the upper crust. Hence,  in his trio work Molsky leaves the banjo and guitar in the capable hands of Allison de Groot and Stash Wyslouch respectively. All of their recordings are wonderful but I recently took advantage of a two-for-one offer to score Closing the Gap and the eponymously titled Molsky’s Mountain Drifters. Theirs is Appalachian music stripped to its basics, yet filled with verve, energy, and expert musicianship. “There’s a Bright Side Somewhere” ought to get you sashaying. If you know the folk standard “Stewball,” “Old Kimball” is closer to its root. “Old Jawbone” is pure infectious hills music and “Cumberland Gap” is a classic Americana tune.  There’s lots more you can find online to whet your appetite.   

 

Rob Weir

Mike Thomas, Rembrandt Trio, Pol Brennan, Tri Nguyen: New Music for October 2023

 

 

 

Mike Thomas might be the only country artist who was actually born in Tennessee, albeit Knoxville rather than that town that begins with N. He’s also intriguing because he tried to carve out a musical career back in 2004, walked away for 13 years, and came back for another go. His new album Diamonds is a good reason to familiarize yourself with Thomas. Some reviews have noted it has a “vintage” vibe, which is the case in several ways. There’s a bit of blue-collar Merle Haggard in Thomas’ songs. “Room on the Dance Floor” opens with the line I don’t go to the parties/I don’t run with the crowd/I’m a working man/With a family now, but the song’s narrator admits he wonders what other directions his life could have taken. Discontent? Quite the opposite as it slides into a remembrance of the woman he was lucky enough to meet on that dance floor. In many ways, though, the most vintage part of the music is its evocation of gritty rock n’ roll, which is why he also draws Tom Petty comparisons. Or perhaps some John Cougar Mellencamp. On one level, “Bricks, Boards & Stones” is a country smorgasbord–tractor, dogs, God–but it’s another standup guy song–I still miss her when I’m gone–with the theme that the right decision is the hardest one to make. The title track is definitely old-style country with its pedal steel-forward arrangement, but again Thomas celebrates a working stiff who’s glad he wasn’t born rich: How would I know which way to run? There’s a lot of power and gravel in Thomas’ voice, and fire in his pen. 

The Rembrandt Trio is a bit of a sly joke as it is anchored by a Dutch pianist named Rembrandt Freichs. To add a few more punchlines, he is trained in jazz and classical music and sometimes plays tunes so artfully structured they evoke that other Rembrandt. Freichs doesn’t like to be tied down, though, so his band has four members counting himself–another little bit of whimsy?–and includes two Iranian musicians that make sure he doesn’t go too longhair on us. One is vocalist Mohammad Motamedi whose keening is definitely not classical or Dutch. The latest project is titled Intizar–Songs of Longing, the first part of which is a Turkish word that means wait. Intizar uses urgent piano notes to frame Motamedi’s expressive vocals that skirt the boundaries of operatic intonation. By contrast, “Az Khoure Javanan”(roughly, the priest is good) places Freichs at the keys of an organ for a somber song that feels like it was torn from a 14^th century songster. Mohamedi sings in Arabic, his voice adorned with laryngeal vibrato to produce an effect that’s somewhere between a Marian chant and a Muslim call to prayer. “In the Middle of the Garden” is a 15-minute composition that is equal parts meditative piano, background bass, understated percussion, and lung-emptying vocals. If you’re the kind of person who appreciates ensembles capable of sharing musical space with symphonic orchestras, there are astonishing moments on this record. 

I recently attended a farewell concert from the Donegal band Clannad. I reckon after 50 years it’s time to come off the road. Of course, musicians never actually retire. If you know Clannad, you are aware that it’s a Brennan family band–Enya is the little sister. Flautist Pól Brennan has been a Clannad mainstay, but he has also had an active solo career that involves film scores and collaborations with musicians around the globe. You can now add composer and arranger of orchestral suites to the list. The Irish Revolution is his take on events that took place between 1919-21 that ultimately gave rise to the Irish Republic. The cost was that predominately Protestant Ulster remained part of Great Britain. (Partitions are generally fraught, hence “The Troubles,” clashes between Catholics, Protestants, and their allied armed groups.)  The Irish Revolution is reminiscent of the compositions of Shaun Davey (The Brendan Voyage, Granuaile, The Relief of Derry, etc.) That is to say, it is an instrumental work that seeks to evoke moods that take us from the decision to revolt to the partition. It’s tricky, as the composer has to match sounds to what an audience is likely to infer. Quick, frantic-sounding string notes and pounding drums are perfect for “The IRA Goes to War,” as is the drumming that alternates from sounding distant-to-near. “Volunteers and the Brigade” has a more mournful and ominous edge to it, an effect achieved by using darker-toned violas and cellos. “War Grinds On” is a combo of the previous two with repeated bass notes and background timpani and metal sheets creating thunderous effects that drive home the feeling of a constant slog. Is it a bit heavy-handed to use vaguely villainous tones for “Ulster Unionists?” Probably, but there are few neutrals on the subject. Or on “Partition,” which is literally a tragic air followed by piano and violin that’s both hopeful and melancholy.   

 

Since I’m on the topic of instrumental music, let me give a shout out to Vietnamese pianist/composer Tri Nguyen. He also plays a Vietnamese zither called the dan-tranh, which he has mounted in such a way that he can switch between the two instruments akin to how splits his time between Saigon and Paris. On Duos Alone he crosses East-West borders musically. I have seldom heard a pianist who plays the high, plinky white keys as much as Tri Nguyen, but he uses them to draw upon the higher-pitched sounds one often hears in Vietnamese music. Another reason for doing so is that it frees his righthand to roam the lower parts of his instrument. I’ve not seen supporting material for this assertion, but I imagine it helps him establish the album’s seemingly contradictory name; that is, it sounds at times as if two different pianos are at work when it’s really just him. I’m going with the sentiment that if my take isn’t true, it ought to be. “Weeping Mango Leaves” has a splash of zither to go with the piano; if you listen carefully and if you close your eyes, you can imagine rainwater running off a forest canopy. Its flirtation with bent notes is deliberate; after all, even steady rain changes. You’ll hear more zither on “Scent of the River,” but as soon as he puts his hands on the keyboard, you’ll notice that Tri Nguyen has a definite affinity for water. It’s a lovely piece made all the more so because its delicate melody doesn’t always go where we’d expect Western music to wend. Bach fans will be intrigued by his take on one of Johann’s arias in a variation Nguyen calls “Sigh of Sorrows.” Most of the music on Duos Alone is quiet and mood–it was composed as tribute to his departed mother, which might be his reason for the album title–but classical fans will also hear some echoes of Ravel and Vivaldi. 

 

Rob Weir  

 

February 2023 Music: Lorraine Klaasen Catrin Finch Marc Timon and More

 

 

 

There’s no contest for the February Artist of the Month. Lorraine Klaasen is a South African-born singer who now lives in Ontario. Her idol was Miriam Makeba, but Ms. Klaasen is rapidly becoming a legend in her own right. Her latest work, Ukubonga/Gratitude is a collaboration with another South African, guitarist Mongezi Ntaka. You might see it listed as jazz, but that’s because it’s hard to find a category for music grounded in African soil but enriched with Caribbean and Quebecois nutrients. Watch her dominate the song “Amampondo.” Ntaka lays down sunny riffs with dollops of Caribbean influence but when Klaasen takes the stage, there’s no question of who’s in charge. Her voice snaps you to attention through its power, trills, and range. “La Reine” is French for queen and she is indeed commanding in a mix enriched with some Celtic-influenced flute. There are even a few songs in English, including the charmingly accented “Meet Me at the River” and the good-time “Can’t Cross Over,” which sounds like African music via Jamaica. Want some moxie? How about a semi-bohemian treatment to “Thanayi,” a song popularized by Hugh Masekela?

 

Catrin Finch has been making records that long to be made. She’s a Welsh harper–the official one to the Prince of Wales no less—but on ECHO [sic] she collaborates with Senegalese kora player Seckou Keita “for the fourth time. Harp and kora? What could be more compatible or contemplative? “Gobaith” has a New Age feel but listen to the crystalline sprays of notes and you’ll know it’s more than fern bar music. Keita takes the lead on “Chaminuka,” though the mood is equally dreamlike. Keita adroitly mixes his runs with drone-like effects when Finch takes over the melody. “Jula Kuta” is the most ambitious offering, an 8 ½ minute piece with elements of classical music that add to an exploration that’s partly experimental and partly rooted in numerous other styles. Overall this is a perfect record for a quiet winter’s night with the lights down low and a warming drink in hand.

 

Barcelona’s Marc Timón is a composer, pianist, and orchestra director who splits his time in Los Angeles doing film and symphonic music.  His album Amalia is a pop-laced departure from his usual large ensemble work. “La quinta medianoche” has big production values and some electronica evocative of dub step, but it always dances away from the brink of slathering too much butter on the musical palette. I led with this one, as much of the album is quieter. “Tot És Perfecte” is a pop love song, even though one doesn’t usually hear whistling accompaniment on the radio. “I Just Wanna Be With You” takes an indie folk rock approach with colors enriched by warm brass. “Cold” is frosted with longing and has a memorable dominant melody line. “Perfums de nit” showcases Timon’s emotive voice at its tenderest best. Hey, how can we not admire a guy who names an album after his grandmother?

 

Stacy Antonel titled her debut album Always the Outsider and it’s easy to understand why. How many classically trained pianists decide to learn flatpicking to become a throwback country singer? She is fond of old Patsy Cline records and one of her first country gigs was as a June Carter Cash soundalike. The title track is a bit of honky tonk with some backdoor critique of the industry: Always the outsider/thought I could move forward in this town alone/without playing the game…. “Karmic Cord” is a breakup song, but it has delightfully weird vibe that shows she’s neither cookie-cutter singer, nor someone who can kicked around. Note her defiance when she sings, I’m not coming back…. “Heartbroken Tomorrow” has a road song feel, but it’s really about working her way past a bad relationship. She’s not afraid to ask blunt questions, as she does in “Better Late Than Never:” Are you awkward or just an asshole? Patsy wouldn’t have put it that way, but you can bet she thought it!

 

 

Short Cuts

 

Dario Acosta Teich is a guitarist from Argentina who likes jazz fusion, in this case taking Argentinian folk melodies and turning them inside out to leave a lot of musical space for his quintet to do its thing. To be honest, fusion jazz isn’t really my thing, but all you have to do is observe a clip or two– ”Como Antes” and ”Encurentro” are two good ones–to appreciate the talent. Give him a try and see why you think.

 

 

Vigüella is a folkloric ensemble based in Spain’s Castilla-La Mancha region. a la manera artesana intrigues, though it’s mostly for those whose interest is as much anthropological as musical. This quintet plays old songs in old ways on old and/or improvised instruments. Think village music that emphasizes participation, not slickness. “Estrellas matutinas” is exuberant, but the vocals are rough. “Ara y olà” features percussion. The unusual drum through which a rod is inserted is the zambona and you’ll also hear a fry pan, spoons, a soda bottle…. The women singers are better than the men, so you might wish to sample “Tonada, ronda.” It’s followed by a jota, a folk dance.

 

                                                                                                                                              

Tracy Sirés Neal is a mom who writes songs. Her Haiku Love EPis a cool concept: eight songs, all of which are around 3 minutes in length. She’ blends minimalist jazz, folk, and pop fusion. The title track is playful and not just in the way that she and the on-screen kids get covered in paint. “New Song” is more serious in facing the challenges of modern life, but it and most of the rest of the project call for a new imagining of how to live. Titles such as “Don’t Give Up Now,” “I Know You Can,” and “Everything is Going to be Ok” alert us she thinks that’s possible.

 

 

I don’t know much about Isaac Watters other than he’s based in LA. His EP Extended Play 001 has its heart in the right place. “Sadness” is a riff on nuclear testing; “Child in the Rain” a plea for a world where kids can find joy. At least, that’s what I think! Watters sings with a pained voice that’s gruff and often hard to understand. You could call it Tom Waits-like, or perhaps just not very good. Listen and take your pick.

 

 

Rob Weir

July 2021 Angela Autumn, Annabelle Chovstek, Sol y canto, Surrender Hill and more

 

Angela Autumn hails from the small borough of Zelienople, Pennsylvania, which is a bit west of the Allegheny ridge, but you wouldn’t be wrong to think that she’s been baptized in Appalachian streams.  You need but hear a few bars of “Old Time Lovers” to imagine bluegrass stains on the back of her guitar. There is that plaintive voice, the small catches, and the woo-hoos coming at you like a muddy creek. The foot-stompin’ and fiddle-supplemented good ‘ole girl vibe of “Sowin’ Seeds,” the two-step pacing of “God’s Green Earth,” the plucked banjo and lonesome tones of “Western Skies,” and rolling melody of “Back in Line” all owe more to hardscrabble mount than the lights of Nashville, where she now lives. Her idea of a change of pace is to mix a tiny Dylan vibe into “Shooter” or sing about “Texas Blue Jeans.” To be sure, she’s a young singer who could use a tad more variety in her repertoire and depth to her vocals, but you surely can’t go wrong by giving a serious listen to her new LP Frontiers Woman.

 

Listening to Annabelle Chvostek is like discovering a retro gypsy musician melded with a carefree, bilingual, quirky chanteuse. Sporting a steampunk-inspired album cover, the album title is a throwback: String of Pearls. (For you young’uns, that was the name of a massive 1944 hit for the Glenn Miller Orchestra.) Chovstek is a vet of the Canadian folk- and folk-rock scenes. Though she’s a Toronto native, she attended Concordia University in Montreal and is comfortable enough in French that a quarter of her 12-track recording are sung en français. Chvostek has always been a bit on the cheeky side of things and her cover of the title track is a jumpy little number evocative of how Django Reinhardt might have approached it. Chovstek goes into a jazzy Edith Piaf mode on “Je T’ai Vue HeirSoir,” complete with plinky keys and guitar, and maniacal fiddling. She’s a few shades more serious on “Walls,” a song about who we are and what we leave behind. She gives it an orchestral treatment and ices it with lyrics such as: I'm a holy fool/And a killer too/And I leave it all with you/The light's an open palm/And the branches keep us calm/We don't leave today/But when we do/We won't be gone…. But don’t worry, Chvostek mostly keeps the mood lighter. Check out her live take on “The Fool,” which is like being at a carnival from the comfort of your office chair.

 

Some recordings review themselves. In 1994, Brian Amador and his Puerto Rican/Argentine wife Rosi formed the Cambridge, MA-based Sol y canto, which is a spinoff of an ensemble they created a decade earlier, Flor de caña. They have been making pan-Latin music since the days when it was niche music that was yet to live up to Sol y canto’s mission: to make music accessible to both Spanish- and non-Spanish-speaking audiences. These days their daughter Alicia often joins them on stage to create glorious three-part harmonies. She’s on the band’s fifth release, En vivo, en familia (Live, as a family). “Amaras” is typical of what Sol y canto does. It’s mostly just Spanish guitar, bongos, and three voices. They sing with sunny joy, even on songs such as “Epidemia de soledad (Epidemic of Loneliness)”. By keeping things simple, our minds can travel to the marketplace to take in “Olor de chiles (Smell of Chilis),” though it’s a rare song in which other things (flute, bass) are as close as the trio gets to being slick. There are even touches for gringos, as in “En vivo (Home Again),” which is in English. As legions already know, Sol y canto’s power comes from being true the music, their hearts, and spirits.

 

I’ve previously railed against the “Civil Wars Syndrome,” the tendency to compare every energetic country/folk duo to the long-disbanded Grammy Award-winning partnership of Joy Williams and John Paul White. Don’t do that with Surrender Hill, the husband/wife collaboration between Robin Dean Salmon and Afton Seekins Salmon. First of all, Robin was born in South Africa before he surrendered to wanderlust and made numerous ports of call, played in a punk rock band, and eventually drifted to Arizona. For her part, Afton is an Alaskan who studied dance in New York City before landing in the Grand Canyon State. Their latest project, A Whole Lot of Freedom, opens with the title track, a quick nod to Robin’s punk rock days before turning country: Got a little country in my soul/little bit of rock and roll/got a lot of whiskey in my blood. Robin handles most of the lead vocals, but Ashton provides tight harmonies that are really evident in quieter acoustic-led pieces such as “Healing Song” and “Beautiful Wren,” the latter which is about their daughter. They draw on a lot of inspirations, including outlaw country, family tales, life experiences, and their “road-dog status.” You’ll hear echoes of Guy Clark on “Turn This Train Around,” but don’t be deceived by the title “Badge of a Punk Rock Band;” if you can believe it, it was inspired by a bad trade of a saddle, an electric guitar, and car restoration! I’d like to hear more Afton leads on an 18-track album that sometimes feels like Robin is trying too hard to sound like the boy from Texas he isn’t, but this is a very solid country album that takes interesting turns. 

 

Jazz lovers will appreciate Refuges Mouvant by rising Québéçeois star Mireille Boily. Her new project is a collection of cool jazz song, poetry, and spoken word that pays homage to signs of heaven and earth. It is combo jazz in which she’s accompanied by saxophone, piano, standup bass, and percussion. She is a gifted songstress though, to be honest, this genre of music simply doesn’t move me. This, of course, is a personal statement and not a critique of Boily’s obvious gifts. Try tracks such as “Crépuscule” or “Nouvelle Lune,” as she might be your cup of tea. 

 

If I could give young singers one piece of advice, it would be: We want don’t want to hear anything else until we’ve heard you. I think that Sarah Cicero has a nice voice, but her EP Cold Immaculate Opposite doesn’t let me know for certain. PR material describes her voice as “incandescent,” but the thing about light-emitting rays is that they are encased in a shell. There are so many layers and drifting departures that Cicero only emerges as refracted light. The overproduction is such that a rough video of her singing “Atticus” while sitting on stairs warbling against street noise is better than the studio version. The same issues turn her single “Letter to the Editor” into something approaching aural wallpaper. Cicero should simplify and add where needed, not just because she can.

 

Rob Weir