April round-up
These are frustrating times for those wanting to catch the world’s endless varieties of local music, before globalism extinguishes them for ever. The only small record companies still supporting ethnographic research are Glitterbeat (see left) and the Paris-based Ocora label, which accompanies every CD with detailed musicological notes.
Most of Ocora’s releases these days are of recordings made 20 or 30 years ago when the world was a safer place for explorers, but the latest CD is almost contemporary. Kim Haesook is the leading exponent of the gayageum, Korea’s indigenous zither and close cousin to the Chinese qin and the Japanese koto. However, its music is much more difficult to penetrate than theirs, and on Gayageum Sanjo Kim gives us an entire unadulterated suite.
It takes time to discern structure, and to appreciate the interplay of emotions which is the essence of Kim’s sanjo form. To call this music austere is a massive understatement: it proceeds decorously, with each note or chord given a slow, wide vibrato punctured every so often by the dull thud of a drum; the bass seems to have a narrative function. This particular release may be recherché in the extreme, but it’s heartening to know that there’s still a company willing to market such things. (Ocora C561267) HHHH
The new wild card in this game is the Brussels-based Muziekpublique label, which preserves ancient musical forms through new compositions by refugee musicians from the Middle East. Their CD Jawa: Last Breaths from Aleppo is a lovely expression of the Sufi musical tradition in Syria. The title is no exaggeration: for eight centuries Aleppo had been the cradle of rare song and dance traditions, and the musicians gathered under the Muziekpublique banner are dedicated to preventing that half-destroyed city also becoming their music’s graveyard. Their singing expresses exaltation and hope, and their musicianship on the oud, qanun zither, ney flute, violin and percussion is superb; the improvisations are as brilliant as any from pre-war times. (Muziekpublique 16)
One regrettable legacy of the world music boom has been an assumption that record-buyers don’t need translated song texts, but it’s the multilingual texts accompanying Aziza Brahim’s album Mawja that increase the force of its very beguiling music. Singer-songwriter Brahim’s title means ‘wave’, a reference back to when, as a child, she listened to the radio with her grandparents (who called it the ‘wave’) in their Sahrawi refugee camp. For this CD she’s woven in a homage to childhood idols The Clash, but the dominant musical cultures here are Algerian and Spanish, and the emotion is a longing for home after decades of exile. (Glitterbeat 41276) HHHH
Meanwhile, making his second appearance in this column, the ubiquitous Ian Brennan brings us, courtesy of Glitterbeat, something sweetly mysterious from Botswana: Taa! Our Language May Be Dying, But Our Voices Remain. Ghostly musical prayers are sung by elderly shamans accompanied by dreamy sounds on the mbira thumb piano, summoning us into their peaceful musical world. (Glitterbeat GBCD140)
Finally a bonne bouche with salsa in its most perfect, vintage form, from Salsa Classics by Classico Latino & Fruko. This is a delightful tribute to the great bass player Julio Ernesto Estrada, who here makes a guest appearance. (Classico Latino CLREC006)