Adventures in new sounds
Sophomore slump. That’s the only way to put the highly-regarded Sound Architects’ newest recording in perspective. Their 2017 debut “In Time of Ned” was a stunning display of virtuosity in just about aspect of their OPM take on post-rock. Unfortunately, Regenesis luxuriates in too much keyboard-driven atmospherics such that there’s a disconnect between the rich extended soundscapes and its agenda to be an instrumental wake-up call on greed, corruption and violence.
The track list follows a kind of story arc beginning with a reference to a countdown to a rocket launch, then some religious and political observations and by the final three tracks, an allusion to Christian passion, death and resurrection. Sound-wise, the titles suggest promising themes worthy of post-rock’s loud-softlouder emotional tug.
This time, though, the band seemed to have been bitten by the new age-y side of progressive rock. Only the opening track, “Ignition Sequence,” lives up to its title, exciting the senses to action. Elsewhere, the overly dramatic production of “Syndicates” could have taken a few cues from the electrifying “Icarus” off the first album. Closing track “Regenesis” lacks the verve and vitality to suggest a renewal and the animated build-up of “Seismos” from “In Time Need” might have been a better point of reference in musical inspiration.
Sound Architects probably did not want to repeat themselves on their second outing. Let’s call Regenesis a short stop to more rousing music ahead.
The members of five-piece indie band Zerise got together to create a unified sound distilled from individual influences in various genres from alt-rock to EDM. Produced by Mally Paraguya of P.O.T. fame, their 5-song debut EP is built around the voice of Cerise Limueco whose range and timbre comes close to that of the original vocalist of Moonstar88 circa “Torete.”
The four guys behind Cerise supply a musical muscle that calls to mind the pop rockers of the last OPM boy band era (e.g. Cueshe, Hale). As Ms. Limeuco draws out the emotional pull of her compositions, the others provide the right instrumentation to put the message across. Their collaboration works best particularly in the almost pop-punkish ebullience of “High” and the Spongecola recoil of the Aw shucks! despondency of “Ayan Tuloy” where guitarist John Bondoc also shows off his mastery of hair metal guitar histrionics.
With “Bangon,” the band’s attempt at mixing EDM with hip hop and rap lacks the energy that would have turned the song into a grand musical and lyrical statement. The chops are a bit thin while Cerise has yet to acquire the vocal heft and dexterity to deliver a rallying call to her generation.
The final track, “Diyan Ka Na,” brings Zerise back to their true strength—a pop-punkish attitude that should endear them even to mainstream music listeners.
Gary Clark Jr. puts traditional blues at the crossroads of pop, soul and rock and comes up a big winner. The recent Grammys has just honored him with the best contemporary blues album award.
Contemporary is the key word in that citation and it’s a huge one. Where other present-day bluesmen rock the blues or give it a shiny R&B spin, Gary Clark Jr. adds reggae, funk, really great hooks and a massive dose of soul that’s never been heard of since the heyday of Prince and the Revolution.
Crossover blues doesn’t begin to describe what’s Clark Jr’ has cooked up. It’s a potent potion that ageing folks might shun as pretentious or even brand as a sham. But, damn if This Land won’t make an angel barter her pristine soul for a taste of devilish sonic ecstasy.
And there’s enough blues-derived gorgeousness on the singer songwriter’s new album starting with the reggaefied title track, the cry in your beer lonesomeness of “Don’t Wait Till Tomorrow” and the Prince-ly bluster of “Pearl Cadillac.” In the “This Land” track, Clark Jr. audaciously sends a terse message to the White House’s latest occupant: “F.ck you, I’m America’s son/This is where I come from/ This land is mine.”
The blues is also Gary’s heritage. With This Land, he’s claiming his unbroken bond with his forefathers and f..k anyone who thinks otherwise.
The album’s title is a euphemism for overcoming tough problems like a recurring sickness. British singer/songwriter Yola celebrates her own release from fiery troubles with a record filled with songs of relief, contentment, and the onset of happiness. She taps into the wellsprings of the golden age of pop (referencing Dusty Springfield, Dionne Warwicke) so her compositions can really run rings around contemporary tunesmiths. In a number of songs (i.e. “It Ain’t Easier”, “Blue Dream”), her back up band effortlessly appropriates the country rock of early Eagles and Poco.
Yola actually goes back to the original concept of singers as poets telling stories and tales about their lives and loves. It follows there’s a retro warmth and aching sentimentality to the tracks but it shouldn’t stop young open minds from appreciating echoes of good music from another time. “Rock Me Gently” and “Lonely The Night,” with their sections of soaring choruses, will most probably appeal to today’s listeners who love Adele, Whitney Houston and other belters.
For the most part, Yola sings from the heart and the sincerity of her delivery makes you want to listen till the end of the album. Surprisingly, a pop rocker or two perks up the attention and turns Walk Through Fire into an enjoyable adventure.