Reviews by kuvien

Feels like the Estonian version of Child ballads, and what I mean by that is that this is local, traditional folk at its most raw and stripped down, without any additions. Even the production is simple and straightforward. Just a girl, her haunting, non-vibrato voice, and a guitar. Great storytelling here even without having to understand the lyrics. "Unadorned" is the best word for this pastoral gem. This is another one of those one-and-done artists.

Some of the most fun I've ever had on a first-time listen. I went into this one blind, as a little experiment, to see how evocative the music could be. Could I guess the elements just by listening? Of course I have a 1 in 4 chance of just blindly guessing, but I wanted to see if the music could paint the elements. It did. As I listened through the four tracks, the overriding images in my mind were dance, blow, ripple, and snake, in that order. The last one, however, was muddled a bit, because I kept thinking rain and wind, too. But before the voice mutters "children of the soil", I knew the last track was Earth because the "snaking" feeling held true. It was the sound of the sand dune ridges snaking through the desert, blown by the hot winds. The "raining" feel was the sound of the dusty earth when the first rain drops strike it. Yes, this album sets out just what it means to do, and it does it perfectly.

A stunning display of the possibilities of jazz fusion. I feel this is a very black album. Not sure how to describe it, but this is one of those albums where I sit back in awe and understand what artists like Simone meant when they said "jazz" is just a term for black classical music. This is one of those albums where the players own the artform, from the mysterious groove of the sung/chanted/spoken word parts to the shimmering percussive chimes descending from the stratosphere.

One of those albums that explodes in creativity right out of the gates, as if the musicians had already been playing a while, and the listener was just fortunate enough to stumble into the middle of the magic, where he is then grasped by confident hands and led deeper down unpredictable paths into the funk.

Pleasant, pastoral folk pop that's not afraid to use the organ. But it's the flutes and horns that bring the charm: crumhorn, cow horn, transverse flute, and spilåpipa (traditional Swedish fipple flute). The way the violins play makes the whole thing feel like a formal dance, like it's some kind of folk ball.

The weirdest music on the planet is the "Jesus is my boyfriend" music.

In my book, it's quite all right that this album is rather shapeless and directionless, since this is the band's debut, and they're introducing us to their world. There's a lot to explore here, to get lost in, if you're brave enough. This is definitely not the kind of music to fall asleep to, unless you want some painted pagan growling in your ear half the night, maddening your dreams, grinding your skull between the rusted chain and the iron wheel.

The rave version of the Wardruna project, and that's not a criticism. I can see the lights strung up in the dark woods and the games of chase that suddenly turn...less than fun. But there are dark poetry interludes growled and hissed. This music is too bloodthirsty to be safe.

Gone is the festival ground; the merry-makers have all disappeared. Or, rather, they have returned as night fell, gathered together grim-faced to hear the story, when light is unstrung, smile vanished, and all that remain are growled voice and the beat of axe on shield.

Yeah, the experimental part is definitely the moments where structure breaks down but also the interspersed female vocals, as if she is a narrator to all these jazz tracks. The album art completes the idea of being inside an aviary with this woman, where she is the chief songbird. There are many narrow, twisting paths here, and they are all a joy to traverse.

Another example of an ethnofolk collective gathering music, lore, and language at the local level, this time from the Karelia region "shared" by Finland and Russia. This kind of recording is as entertaining as it is important, for it is not only done in the pursuit of art and of adding one's voice to the expression of a people but is also an act of preserving folk traditions. Unrhymed rune-singing within enchants and captivates!

Join the Vistani at their campfire. They welcome strangers, especially since they are strangers in this northern land. Dance with them as the gypsies play on rustic instruments light enough to accompany them forever on their sojourn, and when the mists creep in too closely, the raunie rises and dances, weaving an enchantment to hold the mists at bay. As the children go to sleep and the fiddles cry a wordless lullaby, stare with the other travelers into the embers of the fire and contemplate the morrow--for the Vistani will be gone with the rising of the sun, and not even the memory of their passing will remain.

Pointless.

I knew she could do it. I knew she had it in her.

Gospel will never not be relevant. The goldmine of emotion will never fail to yield unexpected riches if artists return to the lode in honesty and humility. Kristin's reinterpretation skills are top-notch, demonstrated by how she can sing a song of praise though her soul lies in bleeding agony. Singing that ends in choked tears.

"Elegance" is the first word that comes to mind when I think about the piano work here. Soothing, too, but without being boring or lacking in fire. The drums and bass are right there, too, though, never overstated, never going beyond their ken. Such a restrained beauty throughout this album.

I’m more inclined to like albums where there’s no track division, and this one doesn’t disappoint. I especially like how the album starts off with vocals but then ascends to a brilliant run of instrumental pieces. Just wondering if he’s having a bath or if he’s had it with life...

Members of this band were also members of Camel, Caravan, National Health, Matching Mole, Gong, and Egg. WTF. Totally incestuous—this whole scene! Here they are, mid-70s, pointing out the direction of music, driving merrily down that same complex yet smooth highway everyone in the scene was traveling.

One man plays the cello, one woman sings. It's that simple. And it's brilliant. So much being done with so little, so the waters aren't muddied with too much happening. This means the duo has to be on point throughout. A charming little folk album.

Huh. I wonder what these cunning linguists are singing about!

Just. Not good.