Get outside the box with these three artists

ROSALÍA “EL MAL QUERER” (SONY)

After I file my year-end lists for this column in December, I scour those of others to find out what I missed. Often, obviously, there are many gems that slipped past my radar. This year my favourite “discovery” came out only two months ago, and landed at No. 6 on Pitchfork’s year-end list. So I don’t feel that bad for not noticing it earlier, because a) it wasn’t that long ago and b) it’s by a young neo-flamenco singer from Spain — not a genre or a corner of the world I usually follow.

Rosalía Vila Tobella, 25, grew up in suburbs of Barcelona and studied flamenco for eight years before debuting in 2017 with an album called “Los Ángeles,” a largely acoustic affair that sounded like an indie-rock take on traditional flamenco songs (the otherwise Spanish album concluded with a cover of Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s “I See a Darkness”). “El Mal Querer,” on the other hand, is a bright and bold pop record, with electronic underpinnings, big harmonies and occasionally Auto-Tuned vocals augmenting the flamenco guitars and handclaps. Though recorded by electronic producer El Guincho, “El Mal Querer” is helmed by Rosalía: composer, arranger, instrumentalist, coproducer — and, most notably, an absolutely arresting vocalist. The album debuted at No. 1 in Spain when it was released in early November. The album’s first two videos have more than 15 million views. Small wonder why.

Throughout, she’s firmly rooted in the strong flamenco tradition: rules she’s studied rigorously in order to break them. “Reniego” finds her accompanied only by a string section, but there is no question this is a pop record — albeit one made entirely on the singer’s terms. The arrangements veer just as easily toward the avant-garde as they do to the mainstream; in some ways, that makes Rosalía a Spanish analogue to Lorde. It makes sense that she’s been courted recently by both Pharrell Williams (“Happy”) and Arca (Bjork’s “Vultura”).

Considering the wide influence of the Spanish diaspora, it’s odd that there hasn’t been an international star from the Iberian Peninsula since Enrique Iglesias. I’d place my money on Rosalía changing that narrative in the near future.

Stream: “Malamente,” “Pienso En Tu Mirá” and “Lamento.”

ORQUESTA AKOKÁN “ORQUESTA AKOKÁN” (DAPTONE)

The Daptone label has built a reputation on new music in old styles recorded in a decidedly old-school fashion. It started with the likes of Sharon Jones and Charles Bradley’s brand of ’60s R&B, Antibalas’s take on ’70s Afrobeat, and branched out into gospel, reggae and garage rock.

Now comes Daptone’s foray into Cuban music, an updated take on the Buena Vista Social Club, in which a couple of Americans head to the Caribbean island and make a collaborative album with a bunch of old-timers. The Americans in question are pianist Michael Eckroth and producer Jacob Plasse; the latter runs a Daptone-ish label himself, Chulo, committed to reviving the sound of the mighty Fania in the ’70s, the golden age of New York salsa. The Cubans include members of Los Van Van and Irakere; the singer is José “Pepito” Gómez, now a N.Y.C. resident who has fronted several key Cuban bands in his homeland, including Habana Ensemble and Los Que Son Son.

Naturally, the performances are lively, the grooves are solid, and the arrangements are light and punchy. Most important, as Daptone fans would expect, the production is deep and rich, devoid of the trebly sheen that much Latin jazz (and every other genre) has today, bringing you right into the room where the music was recorded live.

Stream: “Mambo Rapidito,” “Un Tabaco para Elegua” and “Cuidado Con el Tumbador.”

SALOMÉ LECLERC “LES CHOSES EXTÉRIEURES” (AUDIOGRAMME)

This haunting Quebec singer makes music for Montreal winters, sung with an intimacy that she learned — at music school? In 2009, the budding songwriter was studying at École nationale de la chanson, a college in the Eastern Townships, where one of her instructors told her never to think about writing or singing for groups of people, but only one person in your life. Leclerc writes and records this way, and even if a language barrier separates her from English listeners, the effect is still evident. Leclerc would be compelling even if she was just mumbling into her microphone alone, which she does occasionally, but her arrangements draw from trippy, rainy-day art-rock balladry on either side of the English Channel (Radiohead, Charlotte Gainsbourg). Leclerc takes her time between albums; this is her first in four years, and it’s obvious nothing about it was rushed: it sounds like she’s savouring every note. And so will you.

Stream: “Dans une larme,” “Nos revolutions” and “Le mois de mai.”