Category: Folk (Page 9 of 23)

Los Cenzontles with David Hidalgo & Taj Mahal: American Horizon


RIYL: Los Lobos, Taj Mahal, Ry Cooder

Odds are you’ve never heard of Los Cenzontles (the name translates to “the Mockingbirds”), but they’ve been a major force in traditional Mexican music since forming in 1989. Twenty years and 17 albums later, they’ve teamed up with Taj Mahal and Los Lobos’ David Hidalgo (who also worked with the group on last year’s Songs of Wood and Steel) for American Horizon, a sprawling, 15-track concept album that, in the band’s words, “tells a timely story of immigration, work, and the American Dream.” Not the sort of thing you’re going to hear coming out of Sean Hannity’s car stereo, in other words, but if you’re looking for a beautifully moving collection of roots music that literally transcends language, get ready to spend a few weeks curled up inside the restless grooves of this album. You won’t be able to understand the literal meaning of much of it if you don’t speak Spanish, but don’t worry – you only need a soul and a pair of ears to be able to feel American Horizon’s bright strains of joy and sadness. Think of it as a sort of spiritual cousin to the Buena Vista Social Club, and you’ll be on the right track. Mahal and Hidalgo receive second billing, but don’t buy Horizon looking for flashy cameos; instead, their work here reflects a pair of careers spent knocking down musical barriers. It’s one of the most heartfelt – and purely interesting – records we’ve heard all year. (Los Cenzontles 2009)

Los Cenzontles MySpace page
Click to buy American Horizon on Amazon

Sam Shrieve: Bittersweet Lullabies


RIYL: Denison Witmer, Jeff Buckley, Adam Cohen

A chip off the old rock? Well, not exactly, although admittedly Sam Shrieve shares his dad’s penchant for making a mark at an early age. The elder Shrieve was, of course, the frenetic drummer for the first Santana band, the youngest musician to play Woodstock and the piercing on-camera presence that practically stole the show from his colleagues. Young Sam takes a more refined route and while his glamorous good looks are obviously destined for full exploitation, his music is considerably more cerebral than either dad’s tribal tempos or than the typical pinup poser. Consequently, Bittersweet Lullabies proves an apt title for these pleasant soft pop musings, alternately celebratory (“Beautiful,” “”Kiss You,” “I’m Sorry”) and unabashedly sentimental (“Welcome to Your Life,” “”I’ll Be There,” “”Sanctuary”). An aching take on the oft-covered “Hallelujah” actually cuts through the competition and fits perfectly in the mix, as sure a sign of Shrieve’s proficiency as any of his originals. A solid support cast, including veterans Bill Frisell and Lyle Workman, lend additional credibility, but Sam’s the man when it comes to carrying the bulk of the musical weight. Dad must be proud, although wondering where the rhythm went. Nevertheless, this impressive initial outing carries a weight all its own. (Colorburst Soundfield 2009)

Sam Shrieve MySpace page

Taylor Hollingsworth: Life with a Slow Ear


RIYL: Steve Earle, Conor Oberst, The Jayhawks

If 2009 were to yield a list of its strangest LPs, I, for one, would nominate the aptly named Life with a Slow Ear for at least an honorable mention. Not that its ragged, homespun ruminations offer anything especially unusual in and of itself; heading up the country and getting back to the roots is a popular path these days, especially for musicians who hunger for a respite from a daily diet of scorching guitars, amplifiers turned up to the max and rhythmic onslaughts that could replicate a small tsunami.

The surprise then isn’t that Taylor Hollingsworth follows suit. A journeyman musician, he spent time in the service of Conor Oberst’s Mystic Valley Band before upping both attitude and amplitude for his initial series of solo outings. However, now that he’s opted to unplug, the thing that separates him from his fellow rustic ramblers is – in a word – his vocals (That’s two words. -Ed.), a high-whining cornhusker of a drawl that suggests a cartoonish attempt at hillbilly authenticity. It undercuts any attempt to take these musings seriously, if for no other reason than it’s such a jolt every time he commands the microphone. While one could concede there’s some synchronicity in his chipmunk chatter and the twangy plunking of “I Didn’t Know It Was the Devil” and “Westfalia,” anytime the mood turns somewhat surreptitious – as in “96 Crayons” and the blustery boogie of “New Orleans Blues” – Hollingsworth actually sounds silly. Attempting to give some weight to “Sin City Blues” – which references both Gram Parsons and Dylan’s “Stuck Inside of Memphis with Those Memphis Blues Again” – Hollingsworth’s voice betrays him, even despite his obvious instrumental dexterity. So while Life with a Slow Ear Is otherwise an admirable effort, it’s a less than critical ear that’s required. (Team Love 2009)

Taylor Hollingsworth MySpace page

Hem: Twelfth Night


RIYL: Incredible String Band, Amazing Blondel, Pentangle

It ought to come as no surprise that a combo which has taken its cue from iconic Anglo folk music should carry those interests further – in this case, creating an album rich in Celtic and Baroque tradition. But in accepting a commission to pattern a soundtrack for the Public Theater’s production of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night,” Hem’s allowed their Elizabethan extremes to run rampant, augmenting their usual mellow musings with a contingent of pipes, flutes, whistles and orchestral flourishes all in keeping with the trappings of the period. Mostly instrumental, it gives vocal nods to a theatrically superior cast that includes Anne Hathaway and Raul Esparza, but it’s a relatively unknown David Pittu who proves best suited to singing the sonnets, especially on such traditionally-tied verses as “The Wind and the Rain,” “Hey Robin, Jolly Robin” and “I Am Gone, Sir.” As the titles suggest, this is neither rock, nu-folk nor any combination thereof, but rather a sound that owes its origins and inspiration to the Bard. Hem enthusiasts will likely note this as a momentary detour in anticipation of a band project due early next year. For their part, theater purists will probably appreciate the effort and admire its authenticity. (Nettwerk 2009)

Hem MySpace page

Original Motion Picture Soundtrack: The Twilight Saga: New Moon


RIYL: Vampires, werewolves, everlasting love

Say this for soundtrack supervisor extraordinaire Alexandra Patsavas: with the soundtrack to “New Moon,” the second installment in Stephenie Meyer’s “Twilight” series, she leaves nothing in the bag, as it were. With a lineup chock full of megastars and indie darlings, New Moon is the most ambitious soundtrack to come down the pipe in a while. It’s also decidedly more grown-up than its predecessor, forsaking teen angst poster children Paramore and Linkin Park for the moody stylings of Bon Iver (teamed up with St. Vincent here), Sea Wolf, and Grizzly Bear. Muse is the only returning act – expect them to appear on the soundtrack for every “Twilight” movie, as Meyer is a devout fan – and it’s a doozy, as “I Belong to You,” from their latest album The Resistance, is punched up and, more imporantly, edited down (no piano break, woo hoo!). Thom Yorke delivers the wonderfully minimalist electro brooder “Hearing Damage,” and Patsavas scores a massive coup by securing the first new song by OK Go in four years, the endearingly oddball “Shooting the Moon.”

THE TWILIGHT SAGA: NEW MOON

The biggest problem with the soundtrack is the sequencing. It will surely make sense in context with the movie, but as a straight-through listen sans visuals, it’s awfully up and down. All quibbling aside, New Moon is far better than anyone had a right to expect it to be, growing up along with its audience. Bravo, Alex. (Chop Shop/Atlantic 2009)

Twilight: New Moon MySpace page
Click to buy New Moon from Amazon

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