Eclectic Ear

On May 10, Colombian-American pop star Soraya died of breast cancer. She was 37.

A singer, musician, and songwriter, Soraya won a 2004 Latin Grammy for Best Songwriter (for the song “Casi”), and a 2005 Latin Grammy for Female Pop Vocal Album (for El Otro Lado de Mi).

Soraya’s final album represented an exciting new direction in her career, which makes her death all the more poignant. With El Otro Lado di Mi, Soraya made it clear that she was more than a pop princess. She explored more complex musical paths, combining South American guitars and percussion with a rock vibe.

“El Otro Lado de Mi,” which opens with Andean pipes, is particularly evocative. Other stand outs on the album are “Ser”, which looks at what goes unspoken in relationships, “Llevame”, an energetic pop anthem, and “Alma de la Calle”, an ode to the miserable and forgotten people in our midst.

Soraya Lamilla, who moved to New Jersey with her family when she was eight, began her career exactly one decade ago with matching albums, one in English, On a Night Like This, and one in Spanish, En Este Noche. “De Repente”, from Soraya’s first album, made Soraya an international star.

Although her fans included the likes of Sting, Alanis Morrisette and Carole King (with whom she collaborated on her second album, Wall of Smiles) Soraya never gained much traction in the English-language market and eventually focused her energy on her Latin-American fans.

Most of the trackson the album are love songs. But even the love songs forebode a life cut short. One can’t help thinking of Soraya battling cancer—writing a note to her lover and fans—when she composed the lyrics to “El Otro Lado de Mi”: “Si se rompe el cielo y cae una tormenta, excavas mi alma como una mina sin fín, entre piedra y suelo abres tu camino, no paras hasta que encuentras el oro en mí, hasta que llegas al otro lado de mí” [“If the heavens break, and a storm falls, mine my soul. Make your path between the rock and the soil. Don’t stop until you find my gold. Don’t stop until you find my other side”].

After her mother died of breast cancer in 1992, Soraya became involved with raising money and interest in cancer research, eventually becoming the Latin spokesperson for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation.

On the day before she died from the same disease, Soraya posted the following on her website:

“My physical history may come to an end, but I am confident my existence will leave its mark for the future benefit of many women.... Today I have not lost this battle, no pain is felt in vain, because I know my struggle will help overcome a greater battle, that of early detection and prevention against this terrible enemy. The essence of life lies in transcending through others. By offering the value of my experience and my struggles I hope to lift up many more voices. We still have not reached the goal, but I know we are closer to it every day.”

—Eric Bond

Posted by EricBond at 07:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This album by Takoma Park chanteuse Lisa Mosciatello was proclaimed the 2005 album of the year at the Wammies (awards by the Washington Area Music Association) held in February.
Moscatiello has taken many paths in her career. She got her start at 16, singing traditional Irish songs for Ceoltiori. Later, she moved on to British folk rock with The New Saint George. More recently, she has explored both techno and Celtic fusion.

But the listener who only knows her from Trouble by the Start could easily conclude that she has spent the last 20 years in jazz clubs. This collection, which Moscatiello describes as “acid cabaret.” poses an appropriate counterweight to the more innocent love of Haydée’s album. Moscatiello projects the maturity of a woman who’s known love gone wrong.

“You were trouble from the start,” she sighs in the title track, “but I let you near my heart. You had all the warning signs. Said, 'I’m not the faithful kind.' Stole my heart and lost my mind. What am I going to do?”

As she covers Steve Knightley’s “Exile”, Moscatiello sings, “One thousand miles lie between us. Still, if I could cross a hundred borders, there’s no going home.”

Most of the songs on the albums are well-chosen covers (though Moscatiello shares writing credits with frequent collaborator Bev Stanton for “Trouble from the Start” and “What Happens After Love”). The combination of songwriters gives the album depth as Moscatiello interprets the work of such diverse songwriters as jazz legend Quincy Jones (“You’re Crying”), soul singer Jerry Butler (“A Brand new Me”). and Italian screen composer Pino Donaggio (“Come Sinfonia”—which Moscatiello delivers in impeccable Italian).

Throughout the album, Moscatiello’s viola-smooth voice reminds the listener of such jazz greats as Sarah Vaughn and Lena Horne. And a few tracks, like, “You’re Crying” and “You’re in Love Again” would not be out of place at the 1954 Newport Jazz Festival.

Other songs, like “Trouble from the Start” and “Feel the Love” sound like they would be more at home at the 2006 Takoma Park Folk Festival (although the snatches of Al Cooper-style organ on “Trouble from the Start” take the song to an even funkier place).

Still other songs, like “Ashtray”, could be delivered at a stadium rock show.

Yet, Moscatiello pulls them all together into an album, the entirety of which would make a fantastic concert at Blues Alley.

As with the songs she’s chosen, Moscatiello draws from the best when it comes to the musicians with whom she collaborates on this album. Some of the locals include Harry Appelman (keyboards) Robbie Magruder (drums), Jon Nazdin (bass), Phil Mathieu (accoustic guitar) Erik Wenberg (electric guitar), and Fred Lieder (cello).

If you’re interested in supporting local artists, you could do no better than starting with this album.

—Eric Bond

Posted by EricBond at 07:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Shifting gears, I turn to my most eagerly awaited album of the year, Show Your Bones by Yeah, Yeah Yeahs. Unlike the previous two selections, this album is built from the raw snarl of rock and roll. Often compared to other fierce female rockers—Patti Smith, Crissie Hynde, Siouxie et al.—Yeah’s frontwoman, Karen O, carves her way through these songs with distinction.

The Yeahs—consisting of O, guitarist/keyboardist Nicholas Zinner, and drummer Brian Chase—released their debut EP, Yeah, Yeah Yeahs, in 2001 as they toured with The Strokes and The White Stripes. In 2003, they released their first full-length album, Fever to Tell, which bristled with O’s intensity. “Maps”, the break-out single from that album is a mesmerizing study in desire. Building from blues, punk, and art-rock, Fever to Tell is one of the best albums of the 21st century.

Show your Bones begins with “Gold Lion” (O has jokingly said that this is a concept album about her cat). The lyrics, as on most Yeahs songs, are a hash of enigmatic poetics: “Gold lion’s gonna tell me where the light is.... It was the height I threw, the weight, The shell was crushing you, I’ve been around a few.” But O somehow infuses them with meaning as she croons and howls her way through the song.

O’s nasal delivery gives all of these songs a slight sneering swagger, without falling into punk cliché. If she’s a bit toned down from Fever to Tell, it’s to the music’s benefit. Her singing is more focused, more controlled. Every song is such a well-composed vignette, that it is hard to pick a stand-out. “Turn Into,” the track that closes the album, is perhaps the most transcendent, musically and lyrically. From a simple, acoustic beginning, it builds with orchestral chimes and synthesizer to the most coherent koan of the album, “I know, what I know I know. Ah yes.”

Because I have been focusing on women in this column [This review was published in the June 2006 Voice under the title "Musaic: Inspired Women"], I’ve given short shrift to O’s bandmates, Zinner and Chase.” O doesn’t carry this band. Her larger-than-life persona would be lost without Zinner’s musicianship and the thumping heartbeat of Chase’s drums. Chase thrashes his cymbals and high-hat as much as he beats on the drumheads, creating an ideal soundscape for O’s voice and attitude.

This album goes beyond the promise of the Fever to Tell album. Like so many great acts, the Yeahs remind the listener how much energy can be generated with a guitar, a drum kit, and the right singer. That’s the beauty of rock and roll.

Unlike the women in the previous reviews, O’s voice reveals no musical training. But one of the appeals of rock and roll is its ability to transforms mortals into gods. O, and the rest of the Yeahs, make that transition here.

In “Cheated Hearts” O chants, “Sometimes I think that I’m bigger than the sound.” She is that.

—Eric Bond

Posted by EricBond at 07:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

On her debut album, Haydée Milanés—like so many pop stars since Madonna—simply goes by her first name. But I suspect that in her case her reason is less vanity, and more an attempt to stand outside the shadow of her father, famed Cuban singer/songwriter Pablo Milanés. Then again, using simply her first name better invokes Che’s guerrilla compañera Haydée Tamara Bunke Bider, for whom Haydée Milanes is undoubtedly named.

The songs on this album, however, are sung by a lover, not a warrior. Collaborating with Yerba Buena co-founder Descember Bueno, Haydée explores the issues of the heart and identity that always seem at the fore for the young (and, not infrequently, for the rest of us as well).

“Como crecerá un rosa en las cenizas?” [“How does a rose grow from the ashes?”] she asks in “Mi Pasíon, Mi Vida”. “Esperanza y fe, todo lo pueden...si el amor te guía” [Hope and faith can do anything...if love is your guide”]. If the lyrics seem banal, Haydee’s clear voice carries them far beyond the trite phrasing of most pop stars. The words, sung with simple elegance, resonate.

This album highlights Haydée’s voice, honed from her early years in the Milanés household, and later years of choral training at the renowned Manuel Saumell conservatory in Habana, Cuba. Her voice, soft, yet fervent, is the jewel of every song; the orchestration behind it is clearly accompaniment, never competing.

That is not to say that the music is superfluous. The jazz horn arrangement on “Tu y yo,” rises with Haydée to the upper reaches of the soul. This song transports the furthest: “Tu y yo, viajando en el amor sin rumbo, perdidos en el cielo, desnudos” [You and I, voyaging in love with no direction, lost in the clouds, bare”]. This song will bring hope and joy to the most cynical heart.

The sweetest song on the album is “El Guije.” Tinged with North African rhythms, and backed by a chorus of children, the song tells the tale of a Cuban spirit who comes out of the jungle to share his song of joy. Your kids will love this song, even if they don’t understand Spanish—so be prepared to turn it up if you are listening to it in the car with your kids in the back seat.

Haydée is still relatively unknown to U.S. audiences, but not for long.

—Eric Bond

Posted by EricBond at 07:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Lila Downs has been a prolific artist. This album is her fourth since her first major release, La Sanduga, in 1999 (in the mid 1990s, while bouncing between clubs in Philadelphia and Oaxaca, Mexico, Downs made a few jazzier recordings with limited release). Her other albums are Tree of Life (2000), Border/La Linea (2001), and Una Sangre/One Blood (2004). Last year, Una Sangre/One Blood won a Latin Grammy for best folk album. In 2002, Downs contributed a number of songs to the film Frida, and had a striking role in the film, periodically appearing to sing. Her physical similarity to Frida Kahlo, and the passion of her voice—at times lusty, at others festive, and at others heartfully melancholic—aurally embodied the spirit of Frida.

That emotional depth continues in La Cantina. Downs, who was born in Oaxaca, kicks off the album with a lyrical recipe for making mole, the Aztec food of the gods that combines dried chiles, nuts, and a variety of other ingredients with chocolate. (She also includes a version in English at the end for those who don't understand Spanish—but you’ll still need to get a good Mexican cookbook to prepare it.) The spicy richness of mole describes the album well, as Downs blends her strong, yet lush, voice with ranchera orchestration.

Downs follows up “La Cumbia Del Mole” with her rollicking “Corrido de Tacha”, backed by the great norteño accordionist Flaco Jimenez (who contributes to four of the songs on the album). Sung as a traditional corrido (folksong), full of upbeat heartbreak, the backing music is occasionally punctuated with steel drums and electronic beats, giving a slight hip-hop feel without compromising the integrity of the song. Several other songs on the album combine traditional ballads with more contemporary rhythms, which serves to enhance both sounds.

Throughout the album, I was reminded by the internationality of the music of northern Mexico—which dominates this album—with its lush strings, vocal ardor, and polka cadence. Downs, who has a degree in anthropology from the University of Minnesota, has always explored connection between the cultures of Mexico and the U.S. Her music here demonstrates the universality of traditional country music.

“Agua de Rosas”, the third song on La Cantina, is perhaps the prettiest. Downs’s lilting voice transports the listener to a cantina where the singer drowns her desire for “la mujere que más deseo” [the woman I most desire]. Like the other songs, “Agua de Rosas” is musically complex, with marimbas, clarinet, and distorted electric guitar fading in and out of this simple ballad.

And so the album goes, one well-conceived recipe after another, resulting in a feast of traditional Mexican folk music layered with just the right embellishments to bring out the riqueza.

—Eric Bond

Posted by EricBond at 07:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)