We have these things called words. They’re supposed to aid us in communication. Make the abstract concrete. Reach across the gaping chasms of interpersonal space and convey ideas, facts, thoughts. But what do we do when words fail us? How do you describe the indescribable? How do you make concrete the abstract?
While all that may seem to be a weighty introduction for a CD review, I still can’t help but wonder how I’m supposed to use words to describe what my ears hear, what my soul feels. How do I make concrete the beautifully abstract work of Dave Holland and Pepe Habichuela.
I guess I should begin at the beginning. Dave Holland is a masterful jazz bassist. Pepe Habichuela is a Spanish guitar legend. They live in two separate worlds, the impenetrable fortresses of jazz and flamenco. Those worlds are not meant to collide, not meant to integrate, to fuse. But they have. And the results may just be one of the more remarkable releases of the year.
After meeting and forming a soul brotherhood, Holland and Habichuela sat down to make music together. Flamenco is the foundation, but there being no room in flamenco for bass, Holland was left to search and feel his way into each piece. What results is an album unlike any I’ve heard before. Forget what you know about flamenco. With Holland’s bass finding it’s own expression, searching and diving into nooks and spaces, this is unlike any flamenco I’ve heard. The bass adds texture and resonance, bring out an inherent drama and moodiness in the pieces that simply wouldn’t be expressed otherwise.
Yet, it’s not jazz either. Habichuela’s playing (as is his son Josemi Carmona’s, who also plays flamenco guitar on the album) is never short of breathtaking. Feeling and emotion are cajoled from his guitar the same way Michaelangelo unveiled the figures hidden in the marble he sculpted.
Never is this more abundantly clear than on the stunning “Camaron (Taranta),” where Holland's bass takes the position of the traditional vocal while Habichuela’s guitar fills the space around him. Talk about drama. Talk about impact.
The album swings through various moods, some more upbeat and festive, other more pensive and powerful, without ever repeating itself. “The Whirling Dervish,” is a light-hearted display of magnificent guitar while “Joyride,” brings the bass back into prominence with a gorgeous halo of guitar.
I can’t go into each song here. I don’t have the words. I can’t describe what these two masters are doing with their instruments, the emotions they illicit, or the impact they have. I can only listen. It’s only in my soul that the abstract of their music becomes concrete, and in my soul it will remain. Suffice it to say, Hands is a remarkable album, and if you’re a fan of flamenco guitar or willing to explore a new take on jazz, it’s an album you simply must hear.
Back in the late ‘80’s a new music movement swept through San Francisco like a tsunami. World Beat was a fusion of rock, soul, Latin, and world music elements, all fused into one politically charged, massive-booty swinging rhythmic orgy. Bands like the Looters and Zulu Spear took charge there, blasting their uproarious world fusion to pulsating throngs, dancing in the streets, swinging from light posts, sweating in the nightclubs. At that time, I was massively into African bands like Toure Kunda, King Sunny Ade, and Fela, as well as being fully immersed in reggae from Black Uhuru, Mutabaruka, and Augustus Pablo, amongst others. I was also DJing a weekly reggae show at KSDT FM. As a former sworn metalhead, World Beat gave me a new sound to latch onto, combining the dynamic rhythms and pulsating beats of my new found musical love with the flat out familiar rock elements of my former home. World Beat came and I bought the ticket, sold the farm, and joined the band.
Someday I still mean to get the Looters reviewed in these pages, but currently, my ears are wrapping around a sound so familiar in intent, but so totally fresh, that I haven’t found the time to dig those old Looters LP’s out. Mr. Something Something, coming from Toronto, take all the blazing dancefloor passionate, polyrhythmic experience of Nigeria and Ghana, and add a glorious amount of good ol' soul and funk to create an intoxicating blend of their own world beat mania. Adding a solid horn section into the mix of afrobeat guitar, percolating bass and impossible-to-resists beats, keeps the party flowing like a 24-hour soundsystem. Toss in their “green life” beliefs (a recent concert was powered entirely by fans generating electricity on bicycle rigs) and political savvy and we got something Mr. Something Something affectionately calls “dancefloor activisim.”
And who am I to argue that. Imagine the best of Johnny Clegg and Savuka, mixed with my old time favorites The Looters. Beats don’t just come at you, they surround you, lift you up by the hips and start shaking them all on their own. The arrangements are complex and layered and the soul is achingly fresh. And best of all, underneath it all there beats a heavy rock and roll heart.
It’s a party for your ears and your butt.. Afropop at it’s finest.
In truth, there’s not much that I can say about Jorge Strunz. As half of the neo-flamenco guitar duo Strunz and Farah, I’d gobbled up each album of their delectable guitar feasts like a man eating his first bite after a hunger strike. Emerging to prominence around the same time that Ottmar Liebert’s star took flight, Strunz and Farah wove and picked and strummed and crafted some of the most gorgeous, intricate, and impassioned neo-flamenco ever released to human ears. If the thought of a warm afternoon patio, a glass of breathing red wine and flamenco sounds like your idea of a party, any Strunz and Farah album would fit the bill for your soundtrack to heaven.
Now, releasing a solo disc, Jorge Strunz brings all that passion, precision, technique and magic to Neotropical Nocturnes, and the results are nothing short of magnificent. Let’s be honest, I’m a rock and roll writer (if that). I can’t tell you what Jorge is doing with his picking hand, or his technique of simultaneously strumming as the whips our arpeggios at mind-boggling speed. I don’t have the words to describe the beauty of his notes, but let it suffice to say, they are beautiful. Romantic. Exotic. Alluring. I could break out my thesaurus to find more words, but I'd rather not. I'd rather just sit here and listen to the music.
Strunz’s guitar is like a musical magic carpet blessed with the power to lift you up and carry you away. Enchanted lands await.
Contrary to any images the name may conjure, EarthRise SoundSystem’s,The Yoga Sessions, aren’t slow, new-agey tunes designed to numb the corporate-mindset while they adopt strange positions and stretch their backs. Mixing Eastern voices, instruments, and thoughts with some serious downtempo beats and chill bass, this is luscious yogic lounge music of the highest order. Anyone who’s ever spent any time in a Hindi ashram knows how beautiful the bhajans can be. What EarthRise does is take the pulse of those bhajans and marry them to Western beats and rhythms, creating a heavenly, pulsing, throbbing, intoxicating blend of Hindi-chill.
Again, there’s way too much pulse here to use it as background music while you wrangle your body out of “downward dog” pose into “cobra.” But that’s not the intent. Think of this as a sumptuous late night chill album, or an early Sunday morning coffee riser and you’ll get the feeling.
Exotic in flavor, spiritual in nature, the vocals float and dance above the lingering dancefloor beat. Basses throb in sensual pulses, approaching a point of complete higher-self eroticism. “Intention” leads us off, with its prayer of a vocal chant, repetitive in nature, blessing us as we embark on this journey. Harmonies layer on, building softy over the heartbeat of bass. Songs like “Dash Nayad,” could create a swirling throng of heated bodies on any late-night dance floor. Forget all thoughts of this being a “world beat” album, this is just addictive down-tempo chill. Perfect for calming the night, settling the soul. “Daylight as Sunset” reminds me of some of the best of Si*Se, throbbing downbeat lounge.
I’m always on the lookout for a good chill album to calm the ears after all the metal, punk, and garage we get at the Ripple. Previously, my favorite recommendation would’ve been to check out the Angel Beach 3-CD set. Now, I got EarthRise SoundSystem and all is right in Ripple world.
