Reviews by kuvien

It's not bad; it's just too long for what it is. Too much dicking around instead of getting right into the moments of brilliance.

This is an excellent EP of indie folk. I know this guy's other work with, but that stuff is just all right for me. This EP, however, is much more engaging. A darling, warm little EP.

18-piece big band cinematic music sweeping up proggy elements of catchy pop and stirred together by a master bandleader who might as well be a witch at her cauldron, itself a symbol of creation out of raw materials. In this case, Roscher is brewing a potion to open your ears to new possibilities in musical complexity while retaining accessibility and likeability. I love a multi-part suite, and this album has one: a six-track witches brew of freaky female vocals, bold percussion, fiery violins, alternating bright and rusty brass, and every good thing. Fall into this one, and boil!

Barnes & Barnes might have taken their fish head to see a movie in 1978, but these days, if you want to do something similarly zany, why not take your ears to hear a movie that’s not yet been made? That’s what people have said about this big band album, that it is cinematic or has strong soundtrack qualities. Roscher not only wrote this music and leads the pack with her prog guitar and voice, she conducts her 18-piece jazz ensemble in this brazen display of her compositional powers. Clearly she revels in the presentation of the music, making it as beautiful, interesting, and showy as possible. Something to talk about. Something to compare to other impressive acts you’ve heard out there letting their albums unfold in an aesthetic arc. This whole affair starts as a soirée, as the birds chatter in their nestling down to sleep, and then the party breaks out beyond the closed doors now thrown wide open. Masquerade eye masks are on the table. Grab one before entering. The participation-theater is filling up, but be careful, for not all is what it appears to be!

She's adorable on Hot Ones.

This is a genre I've discovered recently and am hoping to explore more. Although it doesn't sound quite like the other flamenco nuevo albums I've heard, I enjoy the sparse string accompaniment along with the delicate yet fiery vocals, an intimate--sometimes avant--sound requiring a close listen.

Like percolated jazz that got too hot and boiled over, this album is not afraid to go totally off script and just explode, but is also equally comfortable laying down a deep groove and having everyone play along in a kind of loose unity. It establishes the expanse of space between the ground and the heavens and then fills that space with music both wild and serene.

This one moves from deep in the progressive motif with chants, strings, and an uncommon song structure right into a straight-up blues rock song. Quite a left turn there, but not unwelcome. I dig the female vocals for being soulful but not affected, for being warm but not too polished. For not having any warmth in her life, she sure puts some in mine. I can wrap the rich jazzy rhythms around me and even boogie to the "Big John Blues" if no one's watching. There's a strong return to prog sensibilities with the beginning of Side B, a stronger orchestral feel as the music quickly distances itself from the boogie sounds of Side A, ascending from the rock stage to more galactic considerations. Even the war-god doesn't touch his feet to the Earth. An obvious reference to Western mythological beings such as Mars or Jupiter is a staple in British prog rock of the 1970s, so nothing unexpected there.

I cannot help but like this album for reasons beyond the music, too, because it's one of those fairly obscure solitary releases (when a rather unknown band releases only one studio album).

Wild, celebratory polyphonic female vocals with a sprinkling of trilling and laughing, led by pounding, thrumming percussion.

If music is a heart, this is its rhythm.

Really moving into unfamiliar (yet super fun) territory here, so this is a rare treat! So what is onda nueva? Well, it’s based on “the traditional musical style and dance of Venezuelan and Colombian origin, incorporating elements of Creole music and the Venezuelan waltz”, but it goes a step further and blends bossa nova and jazz into the mix. This album is Life enjoying Itself.

I’ve got this super conservative Christian friend who goes on and on about two things: (1) why a dude would fuck another dude in the ass, and (2) how cool Mick Jagger is. I imagine he has this album cover as a poster on his wall, stares up at it in confusion, and hates himself.

I edged through this, but then I accidentally came and was forced to stop listening.

It's no surprise that vocals mournful and mysterious lead the expression on this album, since "bura" is a reference to the north Balkan wind. What little piano and guitar there is is minimally done, improvisational explorations of folk and religious music, almost as if without the vocals, the instruments would stand silent. Like windchimes moved by the wind. What else to say about ex-Yugoslav music? It's a palimpsest of culture.

A far too short album, simply named “Women”, wherein Rodríguez’s characteristic small, delicate vocals hold so much passion. Understated, complicated acoustic guitar work on this collection of love songs. Everything is so clear I can imagine sitting there listening to him face to face.

I don’t speak Spanish, so I always have to follow this with a translation, which, of course, opens up a lot more of what’s going on here. You can enjoy this music for what it is, beautiful, melodic, acoustic intimacy (and often I do), but if you want to get all you can out of this, dive into the ugly political side of what he’s saying. Even when he sings of love, he’s singing of struggle and freedom. There is a lot of memory in his music.

Stripped down contemporary Cuban folk with just a simple guitar and a passionate voice, lacking the use of larger arrangements. Like a lot of folk music, this album is seeking continuity, connecting itself to the past and claiming the future, for we living now are the future’s ancestors. The last track is divine!

Like most people, I discovered Rodriguez through the documentary, Searching for Sugar Man. Well, technically, I discovered him on some RYM list, but that dude clearly found him because of the documentary. Anyway, I really dig this album. It’s not quite as good as Rodriguez’ debut, but it’s still a damn fine honest album. I can’t help but compare Rodriguez to Springsteen, for he succeeds—in my estimation—where the Boss fails. Rodriguez is more poetic and more convincing. He strikes me as the actual man of the people, due in no small part to his obscurity. By the way, the album cover always intrigues me...whose shoe is that, and why is there only one?

What a beautiful collection of melancholic songs! Quite a cathartic journey, whether you just listen or take the time to call up the lyrics. I envy the Portuguese for possessing a national treasure such as Rodrigues. Loneliness amid the beauty of spring, fear wrapped up in the comfort of sleep, regret dwelling somewhere between the mountain and the sea, and the lover always so far away as to be unreachable...all sung with matchless vocal interpretation.

This has a real Old World feel, something to connect to emotionally if not intellectually. Rodrigues has a voice so rich and authentic that I can understand why Portugal considered her a national treasure and why when a voice like this passes a president would declare three days of national mourning. The sparse stringed accompaniment showcases the whole point of this album: the voice.