Reviews by kuvien

Shabaka trying something nu, something a bit different from his other projects. I think I prefer the other sounds he explores, but this album is nice enough. Not rustic and rough like the music I adore, but I can handle this kind of thing once in a while. I certainly don't want a catalog full of nu jazz. But a bit is okay. Nice to shake things up once in a while, and since I got other Shabaka recordings, this one's better than other similar-sounding albums.

Shona Mbira music is just what's on the tin: music from the Shona people of Zimbabwe played mainly on the mbira, sometimes known as a finger harp, a wooden board instrument the tines of which are plucked. For a kind of music that improvisationally explores propounded themes, the tracks on this album are short, bringing the total runtime to just over half an hour, making it worth anyone's time who doesn't have time to explore lesser-known music. Note to self: this is my first Zimbabwe grab.

This album is hyped as being very near to the actual act of creation, at least what rises musically from the unspoken collaborative energy of these three playing piano, bass, and drums. Apparently they went into this recording without talking to one another about what they were going to play. They just went with vague concepts like "falling down" or "what's beautiful?" The result is a playful, interesting record, though not as challenging as I would have expected from such a project. It's quite easy on the ears for being free improvisation.

This learned captain is too cunning to be understood. Sure, there are some good music ideas here, but the more poetically eccentric the captain is, the more tedious he becomes, and he, being as tedious as a king, has found it in his heart to bestow it all on me.

The quirky coolness and effortless gruff charisma of Capossela will inevitably draw parallels to Tom Waits. It's not a bad comparison but a bit predictable. However, that works as a good litmus test for people who know Waits but don't know anything about canzone d'autore 40 years on from its conception. This recording works live tracks into the studio mix. Although I cannot speak to the Italian lyrics, the vocals drip with histrionics.

What kind of asshole makes a triple album this boring?

This album is what it says on the tin: renditions of old tunes from the Carter Family songbook. Herein you'll hear just what you expected to hear: beautiful acoustic guitars picking and strumming, delicate storytelling vocals, and mournful fiddles.

A double vinyl album made by a duo of musicians, on two paths that converge, sometimes in the day, sometimes in the night, but always at the heart of folk music. And in the tradition of the best folk music out there, this is a testament to the places these musicians have seen, the experiences they've had, the roads they've trodden. Because this music is Occitan, it's impossible to escape the drone... but who would want to anyway? It's wonderful and mysterious, especially when blended with the tunes of the central southern highlands region of France known as 'Massif Central'. The rugged rusticity of 17th-century dances meets the refined folk palate of the 21st century.

This was my first joik acquisition, the genre being a kind of traditional indigenous singing of the Scandinavian region laced with improvised chanting and relying on simple percussion. Though it feels like it has some variety from track to track, the music sounds best to me when the drums effortlessly thunder and the violins leap like flames. Throw in bold flute playing, and you've got a pretty good recipe.

This is literally the worst metal band I've ever heard, and I've heard.

This album is evocative and atmospheric (though perhaps not as deeply) like the Wardruna project, but it has heavier proper rock elements as well as a hint of black metal vocals on some of the tracks. The strength of this album is its collaboration. Even the sparse female vocals at the beginning give it a nice touch before disappearing forever beneath the strength of all-male choruses. The horns are at once droning and anthemic, a feat I suppose wouldn't be easy to achieve.

Ghana via Stockholm. Afro-Jazz without a single afro in the studio. And almost 45 years on from this recording, plenty of people are going to have a problem with this, calling it gentrification at best and appropriation at worst. Ethnomusicologist Bengt Berger, a Swede, studied music for a short time in Ghana, however, learning not only the music but the culture surrounding the music at the ground level. He approaches the funeral dance and other indigenous music with the utmost respect, not looking to exploit it but rather share it with Western audiences. To have something colorful and different fly into their rooms and brighten things up. To open their ears to something outside their experience, long before the Internet made everything and anything around the world instantly accessible. Berger took what he heard and learned in Ghana and returned to Sweden, arranging the music for European ears and recording all the music with not a single Ghanaian. Don Cherry, incidentally, is what led me to this album, because I'll pretty much follow his trumpet wherever it leads!

Red-headed step Waits.

This is pretty much a female vocal jazz album, but it’s got a bit of mellow improvisation thrown in. This is the trumpeter and composer’s first solo album, an exploration of the poetry of Polish poet, Julian Tuwim.

I have a soft spot for charming, cozy little albums like this. Like with Love's Crushing Diamond, this album just wants you to have a nice day, to feel the sunshine on your face, and to dip your toes in the water. Or sit on your back porch with a cup of tea as the butterflies flit here and there for your lazy, detached amusement. Or lie in the hammock with headphones on beneath the dappled shade. There a couple strange ambient and vocal moments that might interrupt your mindless reverie, but for me, that's a good thing. Anything to make me sit up and go "huh?" before relaxing back into the music. Kinda like a fly buzzing around your nose.

This is an amazing debut and yet another wonderful spin on the avant-prog klezmer carousel. Hallelujah!

Electronic meets metal. These blokes would do well guesting on an Ayreon project. They've got good cheese sensibilities, but since I already adore the Master of Cheese (the aforementioned Ayreon), these guys suffer in comparison. Hell, maybe some of them already do. I don't know. Ayreon pretty much opens the door and lets anyone in these days.

Everything sounds great here, but it lacks the storytelling punch necessary to sustain my interest for this kind of music.

What I love about this album is how it can be so experimental yet so accessible, progressive and boundary-pushing but not at all off-putting. This here is truly trailblazing music, summoning brilliant moments of Varèse.

Not as good as Duolingo.

This sent me into a quiet rage-trance. A disaster of an album.