My latest round of reviewed singles can be found elsewhere on this site and, I hope, are worth seeking out. Here is a look at the albums that concurrently tickled my musical fancies. I’ll keep the two categories separate from now on, assuming my limited brain power will allow such mental gymnastics.
Yumi Kurosawa
Yumi Kurosawa relocated from Japan to New York City in the early 2000s to expand the scope of her playing on the koto, a sizable 13 or 20-stringed zither that is considered Japan’s national instrument. Her desire to bring the koto beyond its traditional stance is stunningly realized on Metamorphosis (Zoho Music, 2023). Accompanied by violin, percussion, saxophone and skakuhachi flute on 9 tracks influenced by music of the Middle East, India, Latin America and elsewhere, her elegant and evocative playing sounds right at home while also exploring far and wide. Kurosawa has racked up considerable acclaim and honors already, and I can only add to the chorus of approval.
Malika Zarra
Although singer Malika Zarra is Moroccan-born, her nationality accounts for only a portion of the skill she demonstrates on RWA (The Essence) (D. Zel, 2023). Having resided in both New York City and France (the latter is currently her home) and sung in ensembles headed by John Zorn, Arturo O’Farrill and a good many others, she comes across more as a multifaceted jazz singer than anything you’d think of as typically Moroccan. As such, she is able to vocally navigate the complex, varied arrangements played by a multinational cast of musicians, and brilliantly at that. Zarra’s vocals are magical whether scatted, crooned, wailed or whispered.
The backing that accompanies her, ranging from Maghreb-laced jazz and Gnawa polyrhythms to understated funk and chiming griot overtones, is likewise one treat after another. Recorded on three continents, sung in four languages and containing a world of stunning music, RWA is a must-have.
Kimi Djabaté
Dindin (Cumbancha, 2022) starts off on an African reggae note and shows that Kimi Djabate, a singer, guitarist and balafon player from Guinea-Bissau, intends to mix things up a bit. And more power to him, because every track on the album brings goodness to the table.
There’s the kind of desert blues and Manding majesty you’d expect from a West African artist, plus moments bubbling with the slightly reined-in forward motion of Afrobeat, conga drumming that lends a Cuban edge, dollops of Afro-Portuguese melancholy and a subtly striking mix of electric and acoustic instrumentation throughout, including kora and accordion on a few tracks each.
Djabate sings of social, familial, religious and personal concerns, always on the upbeat side of things. The whole album, in fact, has an unforced optimistic feel that flows naturally and makes each song one to savor repeatedly. Very nice.
Various Reggae Artists
If the title of the compilation, Who Wants Some? (17 North Parade/VP, 2022) is meant to be taken literally, my response would be an emphatic “ME!” The disc is a collection of early (1969-70) reggae overseen by Jamaican producer Bunny “Striker” Lee and a superb sonic glimpse into a time when reggae was struggling for acceptance in the U.K., home to many West Indian immigrants.
At that time and in that place, reggae was, by and large, alternative pop without the socially conscious roots overtones that would soon brand it as rebel music. Most of the 24 tracks are instrumentals with prominent saxophone by such masters as Tommy McCook, Lester Sterling and Roland Alphonso. But when there’s a break in the format long enough to feature the likes of pioneering deejay U Roy, the jolt to your reggae senses is that much more electrifying.
I cannot recommend this album highly enough. Apart from the excellence of the genre-defining music, the comprehensive liner notes help paint a complete picture of historical and musical context.
Further reggae history is set in stone with We Remember Bob Andy (VP, 2023), which features 15 of the late great singer-songwriter’s finest moments interpreted by a crop of Jamaican singers who clearly know and love the source material.
There’s not a dud in the bunch, be they love songs or anthemic declarations. So Luciano is able to render “Life Could Be a Symphony” in a manner that sounds tailor-made, Olaf Blackwood rides the rocksteady groove of “You Don’t Know” to perfection, Sherieta brings her own sweetness to “Honey” and Romain Virgo’s “Fire Burning” reaffirms the tune as a classic. It’s almost as if Andy (born Keith Anderson) knew that one day there’d be a covers album of his works, and thus strived to make the songs as open as possible to such an eventuality.
To make the whole affair even better, the singers are backed by real players on real instruments, the production by Dean Fraser is clean and crisp without being glossy, and a second disc comprised of 10 instrumental versions deepens the musical foundation to maximum effect. A winner all around and a fitting tribute to the man it honors.
Duplex
I had no idea what to expect from Maelstrom (ARC Music, 2023) by a Belgian quartet called Duplex led by accordionist Didier Laloy and violinist Damien Chierici. So I was quite taken with the album’s mix of ostensibly loose-structured but tightly played jams, moody pieces that seem to emerge from some cosmic cabaret, mysterious passages in which the two lead instruments engage in a kind of sonic shadowboxing, passionate bursts similar to klezmer, Celtic or Roma music and a what-comes-next feel that shows my lack of expectations to have been precisely the right approach.
It’s all instrumental, it defies categorization without relying on weirdness, the musicianship is first-rate, and it’s a journey of sound well worth taking.
Alba Asensi
As the name suggests, Soc Poeta (Segell Microscopi, 2022) consists of poems set to music. The words are the work of contemporary Spanish poets, and the musicalizing thereof was done by Alicante-based harpist and vocalist Alba Asensi. I don’t know Spanish and the liner notes provide no translation, so I can only say, from a strictly musical standpoint, that the overall sound is much like classical chamber music. It’s soothing in the manner of lullabies, with most of the tracks sparsely arranged around a minimum of instruments.
The voices (sometimes spoken) are like inner angels delivering messages of comfort. This album doesn’t grab your attention; it gently caresses it. The music is the listenable equivalent of fine silk, and there’s not a single moment that isn’t one of unspeakable beauty. Put this disc on when you’re stressed. You’ll feel better in no time.
headline image: Yumi Kurosawa – Photo by Gail Hadani)
Author: Tom Orr
Tom Orr is a California-based writer whose talent and mental stability are of an equally questionable nature. His hobbies include ignoring trends, striking dramatic poses in front of his ever-tolerant wife and watching helplessly as his kids surpass him in all desirable traits.