Reviews by kuvien

German Genesis picks up the narrative of the slave rebel and sings of solidarity and hope for freedom, but alas the soothing synths here serve only as a dirge. Not sure what the significance of the mouse inside the light bulb is, though.

The band used to play this album in its entirety when they toured. Germans never fail to impress me with their interesting English lyrics. You can hear a lot of Yes and ELP influence on this album, which isn’t a bad thing. Prog rock did a lot of sharing and cross-influencing. This album is divided into two tracks, each containing six movements that define the grand scope of this piece.

Man... I really hate the 80s.

Just FYI: the dude on the cover is not Tribo Massáhi. Tribo Massáhi is the collective with at least eight members. The dude on the cover is the co-composer, known only as Embaixador. This is one of those one-and-done bands, this being their only studio release. So what do I make of it? Well, it's the album that introduced me to batucada, a subset of Brazilian samba. So naturally this album is all about the percussion and the party that grows up around the beats and grooves. Some glorious call-and-response action going on here, steeping this album more in its rhythmic African roots. It seems the reissue of this rare gem in 2015 is what made it suddenly pop up on the radar of 21st-century listeners. Whatever. This is one long-playing party, where the tracks blend together, not giving you--the dancer--a chance to come up for air.

It's giving inappropriate praise & worship vibes.

Without the vocals, this would be amazing... but, like all theater kids, these guys' hearts are bigger than their talent.

Four the nine tracks are traditionals—Child ballads and whatnot—though the original songs fit right in with the overall feel. They really jam on their “Lady Margaret” rendition, blending the haunting, traditional ballad with modern folk rock energy.

I love the progressive avenues the band takes away from the traditional English folk musical motifs that serve as the spine of these tunes. “Sally Free and Easy”, sounding quite differently, shows up on Reflets, too, and “Geordie” is a Child Ballad. A lot of roots mixed in with the rocks.

This isn't guitar work; this is witchcraft. It's evocation, all written, clawhammer picked, and mournfully sung by Traoré. American Primitivism wearies me, but Mande guitar music captivates me. Anything troubling you today? Well, put this album on, focus on that trouble, and fall into a trance.

The soundtrack to a film that follows the artist through his Mali homeland where he meets up with Ali Farka Touré and Ballaké Sissoko along the way. Sometimes you hear people talking, sometimes he sings without accompaniment as his footsteps crush pebbles, giving a strong travelogue feel.

Starts off with some soothing, pastoral flutes but then takes a sharp left turn into some fine rock piano riffs and sweltering saxophone phrasings on the title track. A cool jazz-rock feel, but how the hell did a 12-minute song become a radio hit? Where did they pare it down? I think the atmosphere of the title track is just perfect--like you leave your apartment building in the city and just stroll down the street, and this is the music at your heels. It is, as the story of the song's creation goes, "at the street level". The extended, playful use of the organ here is also excellent. Then they carry on into the next track with a right turn into some groovy, funky rock. Basically, a lot of variety here. The flutes saw you in; the flutes will see you out.

A playful, melodic, psychedelic romp of a rock album. Some pretty surreal moments but not a surreal album overall. An exhortation to use music as a form of escape, in some ways reminiscent of “Mr. Tambourine Man”.

The kind of album that can really pump someone up and take her to another world, especially if she keeps one of her hands free. A lot of histrionics in the vocals, drama-soaked guitar work. Prepare thy ears! This ain't your step-brother's metal. They're bringing in the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra. This shit's 'boutta get real. Growled faux-death metal vocals laying the groundwork while the strings and horns soar high above... but not as high as that guitar, right? Right?? *puts head between knees, takes deep breaths* Sorry. I was overwhelmed by all the epicness.

This one is all about the vibes, quite atmospheric, perhaps even cinematic in spots, communicating a sense of space and mood, like treading water in the middle of the ocean or spelunking in some yawning cave. American guitar meets European saxophone/flute, bass/cello, and drums.

A soporific elixir, a gust of cool air on a hot night. Windchime guitar and kora, playing with the breezes.

I'm no expert in the blues, and this was my first Songhai album, so the usual bullshitting I do when reacting to albums will probably be more evident now. What this seems to me is a meditation on blues seen through the lens of traditional Mali music. A lot of African music I've come across is repetitive (in the best sense), as it builds on a lick or a brief musical theme, expanding with joy all the permutations possible. Of course I lack the cultural and linguistic context to understand this music completely, but it feels like a meandering journey always keeping its gaze on the horizon. That is, a lot of space and openness communicated through the music. Halfway through the album, "Hawa Dolo" sideswipes you with heartbreaking beauty.

I'll never understand this music, but I love it all the same. Deeply inspirational and roots-centered, the blues-like guitar music of Mali shines like a jewel. Actually, when it comes to blended genres, I can't think of any two that do it better than Blues and Songhai. This music is a perfect example of a musician returning home in his later years and listening to what the land sings to him.

There is just so much stuff going on here, so many influences, so much dabbling, keeping each track fresh and surprising, even after several listens. Some hairpin turns herein.

This is one of about fifty albums in my collection that are solitary albums by bands. In other words, this is Tortilla Flat's only studio album, so, of course, I was interested in this recording initially for the obscurity factor. When I listened to it, however, I found it to be pleasant on its own, without meta considerations, especially since its main instrument is the flute, giving it quite a pastoral feeling overall, the guitar-driven second track excepted. What this here is is standard 70s prog / jazz fusion. It's not going to blow you away, but it's a pretty good offering of the time.

I’m amazed at how simultaneously ominous and hopeful this music is. The guitar lays a framework of metal, but the operatic alien vocals bring the music into the sphere of zeuhl.