Showing posts with label gustavo santaolalla. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gustavo santaolalla. Show all posts

Bajofondo - Presente

Presente, Bajofondo
Sony Masterworks, Argentina/Uruguay
Rating: 69
by Sam Rodgers

There was something about Mar Dulce, Bajofondo's second-and-a-half studio album, that seemed really fresh, not least because the raps of Santullo and La Mala Rodriguez made the rioplatense (that's Argentinian and Uruguayan) compositions pop with urgency and sizzle with sauciness, but it landed amidst the electro-tango movement of the time with a little more to give. There was an edge, it was unpredictable. Unlike other bands playing with the same genre, Bajofondo was a band creating tracks that stood out on their own, rather than musicians creating updated "world music" that you could play in the background of a dinner party. Your party guests might remark how 'romantic' and 'cool' it sounded, getting the full rioplatense experience, supping their Malbec, nibbling an alfajor their friend brought back from holiday.

Disappointingly, on Bajofondo's latest release, Presente, some of the excitement from Mar Dulce has gone. It's hard to pinpoint why. Co-founder and producer extraordinaire Gustavo Santaolalla has repeatedly stated Bajofondo is not and will not be confined to the electro-tango genre, that the band experiments with all music from the region, adding current pop and rock influences to the mix. When it succeeds and creates a distinctive, interesting sound, like on melodic "Circular," the un-cringingly-used 8-bit of "Asi Es (Propergol)," and the African drum/chant-infused "Olvidate," Bajofondo come across as unique as Santaolalla proposes. When instrumental pieces like "Pide Piso" and "La Trufa y El Sifon" aim for the epic, unfortunately, they push too many ideas at the listener at once. There's an arc to the more energetic instrumental pieces that's well-worn and provides few surprises for the listener, which is perfectly fine if you're jumping up and down, dancing at a concert or impressing friends with your "new"-sounding latinoamericano album at that dinner party.

But there is enough to like about Presente to not brandish it with being totally dull. Sure, other songs like "Lluvia," "Cuesta Arriba," and "Pena En Mi Corazón" are so straight-forward you could be forgiven for thinking they were the same pop song made by a less creative band (but made tango-y and with slick production values by this band). And in 21 tracks, it's not surprising a few instrumental pieces seem like filler. Often you feel like you're listening to one long track called “Let's Have Fun With A Bandoneón!” at the behest of your cool tango dance teacher, which, again, is no bad thing if this genre really puts the urge in your murga. Some choices seem a little underdeveloped, like the harmonies of "Oigo Voces," which, while it captures your attention, does little more than hum a version of what could be another instrumental piece on the album. And random additions that reach for comment on globalisation (or something) like the Mandarin television report in the break of "A Repechaje," are just puzzling. (Why Chinese, and why is that the only track that explores other voices?)

It could be that without the scattering of other Latino stars that elevated Mar Dulce, Presente suffers a "blandening" from the band's collective contribution. Maybe because Bajofondo isn't just a pop band it suffers from its parochial bent and can't properly leave behind its origins? While there's an undeniable musicianship master class at work, there's also a lack of definitive artistry, which makes Presente overwrought (in instrumentation) or underdone (in structure and lyrics). But it's alright. What's to hate? Santaolalla, Juan Campodónico, and their crew are clearly passionate about the details, even when the whole goes wayward.

Café Tacvba - El Objeto Antes Llamado Disco

El Objeto Antes Llamado Disco, Café Tacvba
Universal Music Latino, Mexico
Rating: 77
by Claire Frisbie

It had been a while. Five years have passed since Sino was released. There have been side projects, other bands, social and political causes to champion, a documentary, a book, breakup rumors, 20th anniversary festivities, extensive touring, life. And now: El Objeto Antes Llamado Disco (The Object Formerly Known as a Record), Café Tacvba’s seventh studio album.

El Objeto did not take five years to make, and it shows. The songs came together early this year, and in a rather brilliant marketing move (but somewhat ineffective creative technique), were recorded in front of live audiences in Buenos Aires, Santiago, DF, and LA. Dozens of lucky fans and friends sat in on the sessions, while the rest of us followed along on Twitter, piecing together song titles and wondering what the next chapter of Café Tacvba would sound like, anticipation swelling.

And now we know: Café Tacvba five years later sounds a lot like Café Tacvba 15 years ago. Whether this is a good or bad thing is entirely subjective. Many of the songs feel familiar, but a tad less catchy, less raw. The band has returned to the pre-Cuatro Caminos four-core-members-and-a-drum-machine lineup, but instead of the quirky storytelling and earnest experimentation of Cafeta songs of yore, we have introspection and wisdom, nature and spirituality, overall self-reflection. And, alas, minimal innovation. Thirty-nine minutes with 10 tracks mostly written by Meme and Joselo, El Objeto requires some time and a bit of patience. Disclaimer: initial listens might prove unsatisfying, but somewhere around the tenth or eleventh time through, the "object" really starts to grow on you, though the objective might never be clear. It's worth the commitment.

So much of the buzz around El Objeto was tied to the recording process, the different locations, the live audience. The decision to record the entire thing in front of an audience with little preparation was bold and risky, though not unfounded. Café Tacvba’s live shows are one of the most intense, insane, gratifying communal experiences out there, so why not attempt to channel this energy, this connection and rapport with your audience, into a recorded album? But the final product reveals nothing of these intimate itinerant sessions. Not a single song is taken in its entirety from a given recording. Elements from all four recordings were instead cut and pasted to create the tracks we hear now. I’m not pining for another live album, but a bit more spontaneity, some added energy or edginess might have been nice.

That being said, the production (from Tacvba homeboys Gustavo Santaolalla and Anibal Kerpel) is excellent, and El Objeto has some truly beautiful songs. “Tan Mal” makes optimal use of the rhythm machine and Rubén’s vocal range, ebbing from soft whispers to increasingly grating falsetto, intimate and delicate, then frustrated, yet controlled. “Zopilotes” is gorgeous in its mystic simplicity. “Andamios” is classic Cafeta at their best: an upbeat track with layered beats, inquisitive, metaphorical (architectural!) lyrics, and slightly imperfect harmonies. But you almost wonder if you haven’t heard it before, maybe on Re, or perhaps Cuatro Caminos.

The most musical variation and experimentation can be found in the middle of El Objeto. The earthy “Espuma” features finger harps and other pre-Columbian instruments, but teeters dangerously close to world music/songs your mom might love. The repetitive “Olita de Altamar” has an undeniable Andean tinge, drawing from Peruvian chicha and huayno music. And then comes “Aprovéchate,” the true standout of El Objeto. A love song sung by Meme, it feels almost Argentine or Chilean in its guitar-driven rock sound and tone, but is undeniably Cafeta when it comes to the chorus. This isn’t “Eres” Meme—his voice is deeper, more forthright. The lyrics are dark, sexy, submissive. And it’s wonderful: “ahora eres tú la agresora / desquítate conmigo ahora / me puedes usar, me puedes amar / te aprovecharás de mí...”

But “Aprovéchate” almost feels out of place on the album, which brings us to what may be the main fault of our “object”: an overall lack of cohesion. El Objeto Antes Llamado Disco is a collection of ten different songs, not a cohesive album. Café Tacvba is so revered for their continuous and relevant reinvention, and each of their past albums has had a definitive theme or feel, while managing to maintain a sound that is distinctly Tacvba. But El Objeto lacks a strong identity, though one could argue that this is precisely the point: the record as we once knew it is, after all, obsolete.