El Silencio en la Tierra, Silva de Alegría
Independiente, Mexico
Rating: 79
by Sam Rodgers
Sergio Silva's parallel project to Furland, Silva de Alegría, showcases the artist's continuing development as a major composer of orchestral pop. Unlike his band's recent refinement of scope, and simplicity in themes and hooks, Silva de Alegría can at times be self-indulgent, but rightly so: this is an individual's concoction, a mishmash of styles, a Tumblr blog of inspiration. What makes Silva's music so intriguing is that he produces a lot, and we get to be privy to the artist evolve and strengthen his voice from album to album.
El Silencio en la Tierra is Silva de Alegría's first proper LP and it's a cohesive, surprising addition to his cannon of experimental-cum-easy-listening tunes. It opens with title track, and a direct hit of Silva's sublime grasp of melody. At first, there's a worry of straightforward tweeness, but within half a minute, strings add depth, a cello undulates with beats sounding like something new: and while Silva de Alegría's influences are noticeable, when a track sounds this confident, he becomes a formidable peer. The first track runs seamlessly into the next, "Adios Sr. Rey", forming a couplet of exuberant, 60s-inspired sunshine, tinged with folk and bluegrass. Third track, and first single, "Archipélagos" flaunts some country chops, before giving way to Silva's nostalgia for 8-bit synths (which find their way into several other tracks). Nevertheless, Silva weaves all these genres into each of the ten tracks, not succumbing to the showy, insecure genre-hopping that could have made a lesser album.
The album has a thematic focus of discovery and extinction, innocence, love and loss, with track names evoking antique maps: "El Pez Darwin", "El Ruido en el Mar", "Segundo Viaje del HMS Beagle", and the aforementioned "Archipélagos". This fascination and fixation on the natural world is reminiscent of Shearwater's The Golden Archipelago album, on which Jonathan Meiburg crafted personal songs inspired by geography and history. Unlike that band's output, El Silencio en la Tierra rollicks along with 'humor Beatles' on tracks like "Un Pato Atrás", and a subversive Jim O'Rourke-like melancholy on "Monografías", which has an uncharacteristic aggressive ending. The album also contains two mostly instrumental compositions, the flitting, frolicking "El Pez Darwin" and the final track, which recalls Silva's earlier, expansive work on Polifónica Polinesia, which clocks at over fifteen minutes.
Silva de Alegría could be a bit of an underrated genius (he wrote, produced, recorded, and mixed the entire thing), especially with an LP as dazzling and concentrated as this, casually bypassing hype: you can even download it at your own chosen price at his Bandcamp site. El Silencio en la Tierra sits in an odd piano-and-strings led alternative universe to the works of Panda Bear and Astro, maybe in the quadrant of contemporary bluegrass, like Nickel Creek, 70s folk, and the harmonies of the Beach Boys. In comparison to Furland's latest offering, which seemed pulled in too many stylistic directions, the lead singer of that band has been able to indulge his every instinct with his own project, and stay focussed on an overall sound. This album quietly achieves that creative progress, which is no mean feat.
Showing posts with label silva de alegria. Show all posts
Showing posts with label silva de alegria. Show all posts
Silva de Alegría - Polifónica Polinesia
Polifónica Polinesia, Silva de Alegría
Independiente, Mexico
Rating: 72
by Sam Rodgers
There's much to appreciate on Silva de Alegría's several-years-brewing instrumental EP, Polifónica Polinesia, especially for those suffering wanderlust. The Furland leading man is showing off his understanding of landscape composition, as Mr. Reyes so eloquently put it in his review of Silva's previous EP, Geografía Nacional, but here, free from a lyrical layer, the tracks are much more open for the listener to explore. It's an open record. It's vast, even at only 16 minutes long—as spacious as the Pacific, which is as close a reference to Polinesia as can be found, bar opening track/intro “Estrella Artesia,” which has a palm tree quality to it. The rest of the album, a compilation, really, of several instrumental pieces Silva worked on in 2009, spends more time in the air, above the water, looking down. For the compact time of each track, there's another far-below island to ponder.
Second track, “Mapamundi”, sums this up nicely by title alone, a dotted red line and a plane making its way from Mexico City to Tokyo. In fact, it's reminiscent of the work Kevin Shields did for the Lost in Translation soundtrack, which is highlighted by the close and opening of third track's Japanese loudspeaker background noise. “Mapamundi” travels the furthest at just over four minutes long, retaining a forward momentum with incessant piano chords, yet combining the introspection of long flights (higher notes chime like call buttons), and the anticipation of the next chapter upon arrival. One step ahead of the listener, Silva names the next track “La Crisálida del Aire,” adding the ambient soundscape of an airport.
“De Vuelta al Naranja” could be a speed boat skipping across a lagoon at sunset, it could be a seabird's extended wing feathers, gliding (strings swell and introduce synth ripples on the water). It's beautiful, wanky-metaphor-inducing stuff. “Milagros,” the most 'organic' sounding track, earthbound (lower piano register) but triumphant (horns), closes the first part of the album. Perhaps it could also be the return trip, the traveler full of experience. There's a minute pause before two closing numbers: “Superluna Remanente en Radio,” a fantastic play with speed and headphones and hidden track “Camuflaje Ignorado por un Globo,” which revisits motifs of what came before it, adding guitar you didn't realize was missing.
The ideas running through all tracks makes this instrumental release cohesive, if not an academic exercise for the listener. When you've just gotten lost in an expanse of arrangement, the track ends, or, as with “Superluna Remanente en Radio,” you can appreciate its structure and shape, but you're left wondering what it meant. However, these are minor quibbles for an easy-listen (in the good way) EP that is really just a generous offer of what was put together years ago. It still reinstates the sonic mastery of its creator and furthers the anticipation for a long player. Hopefully an indulgent soundtrack in length?
Independiente, Mexico
Rating: 72
by Sam Rodgers
There's much to appreciate on Silva de Alegría's several-years-brewing instrumental EP, Polifónica Polinesia, especially for those suffering wanderlust. The Furland leading man is showing off his understanding of landscape composition, as Mr. Reyes so eloquently put it in his review of Silva's previous EP, Geografía Nacional, but here, free from a lyrical layer, the tracks are much more open for the listener to explore. It's an open record. It's vast, even at only 16 minutes long—as spacious as the Pacific, which is as close a reference to Polinesia as can be found, bar opening track/intro “Estrella Artesia,” which has a palm tree quality to it. The rest of the album, a compilation, really, of several instrumental pieces Silva worked on in 2009, spends more time in the air, above the water, looking down. For the compact time of each track, there's another far-below island to ponder.
Second track, “Mapamundi”, sums this up nicely by title alone, a dotted red line and a plane making its way from Mexico City to Tokyo. In fact, it's reminiscent of the work Kevin Shields did for the Lost in Translation soundtrack, which is highlighted by the close and opening of third track's Japanese loudspeaker background noise. “Mapamundi” travels the furthest at just over four minutes long, retaining a forward momentum with incessant piano chords, yet combining the introspection of long flights (higher notes chime like call buttons), and the anticipation of the next chapter upon arrival. One step ahead of the listener, Silva names the next track “La Crisálida del Aire,” adding the ambient soundscape of an airport.
“De Vuelta al Naranja” could be a speed boat skipping across a lagoon at sunset, it could be a seabird's extended wing feathers, gliding (strings swell and introduce synth ripples on the water). It's beautiful, wanky-metaphor-inducing stuff. “Milagros,” the most 'organic' sounding track, earthbound (lower piano register) but triumphant (horns), closes the first part of the album. Perhaps it could also be the return trip, the traveler full of experience. There's a minute pause before two closing numbers: “Superluna Remanente en Radio,” a fantastic play with speed and headphones and hidden track “Camuflaje Ignorado por un Globo,” which revisits motifs of what came before it, adding guitar you didn't realize was missing.
The ideas running through all tracks makes this instrumental release cohesive, if not an academic exercise for the listener. When you've just gotten lost in an expanse of arrangement, the track ends, or, as with “Superluna Remanente en Radio,” you can appreciate its structure and shape, but you're left wondering what it meant. However, these are minor quibbles for an easy-listen (in the good way) EP that is really just a generous offer of what was put together years ago. It still reinstates the sonic mastery of its creator and furthers the anticipation for a long player. Hopefully an indulgent soundtrack in length?
Silva de Alegría - Geografía Nacional
Geografia Nacional, Silva de AlegríaIndependiente, Mexico
Rating: 79
by Carlos Reyes
It’s hard not to feel relentlessly amused when talking about Sergio Silva. Over the last few years he has percolated into the cream of the crop of Mexican pop, gaining fans and guides along the way like Natalia Lafourcade, Café Tacvba, and Julieta Venegas. And yet he keeps both feet outside of the pop elite, standing on a precursory position as a conciliator between rock stars and songstresses. He has certainly made good use of that site. As the leading composer/vocalist of Furland, Silva has engrossed the attention of an intercontinental audience and should have no problem doing the same with his solo act, Silva de Alegría.
Silva is a Renaissance man, and unlike fellow Mexican caballeros Juan Manuel Torreblanca and Tony Gallardo, he claims to be whistling from joy. His debut four-track EP Geografía Nacional seems unaffected by the nation’s political environment or concerned for thematic escapisms. But don’t ever think of Silva as an insensitive man, think of him as a performer pitching emotion through his symphonic heart. Silva’s composition is one of personal crest, crafting self-serving orchestrated journeys that are eventually wrapped around lyrical landscapes to travel abroad. The way “La Campana” travels from whimsical doubt to a volatile benediction shows just how well measured and in control the artist is.
While Silva has the voice of an eternally pre-pubescent boy, one should not doubt his skill for diverging sounds to be actively accessed and engaged. In this regard, the colossal-sounding title, font, and surrounding yellow frame go from campy to proficient–even if only in the melodic world. Geografía Nacional is aware of its miniature size against a scientific nature and surely blooms from its epic nature. The jointed track “Otra Vez / Crayon Pony Fish” starts classicist (and on a somber note) and builds up to beautiful kid imagery (with great Paul Simon and Sufjan Stevens harmonious ideas put into practice). There’s a distinctive resourcefulness to this music (he really knows how to landscape sound), and, luckily, he keeps things accessible enough for anyone willing to grasp.
The second half of the short EP is a paean expedition to slower and miniature times. “There’s nothing better than happiness. Nothing that can buy the calm of having seen love,” sings Silva as he also describes a scenery of flourishing moments accompanied by birds, urban machinery, and sunrises. Closing/bonus track “Lento” is a special track here at Club Fonograma, as it was the opening track on our celebratory compilation Nosotros Los Rockers. During the selection of the tracks Silva de Alegría might not have been our immediate choice to do a cover for Café Tacvba, but, really, who could’ve described the walking of a caterpillar from a leaf’s stem to the humid, resting soil with such lucid simplicity? Silva’s livelihood in the expansion of folk mediation/meditation seems somehow assured. Even at its 15min length, Geografía Nacional is beautifully weathered–the beginning of a tender expedition and a lot of greatness to come.
Bootleg Promo: Silva de Alegría - "Lento" (Café Tacvba Cover) / Fonogramáticos Vol.10
Furland has kept momentum all year long promoting Historia de la Luz, one of our favorite records from 2009. By now, we all recognize the gifted voice of singer Sergio Silva, who’s currently working on his solo side project, Silva de Alegría. While we had a list of songs we would like for bands to cover, we were pretty open to consider anything else, including material released way before any of our compilations. No band has influenced our generation as much as Café Tacvba; the rock pioneers have set the example, here is a wonderful cover to honor our idols. Silva decided to take one of the most beautiful tracks from Reves/YoSoy, keeping it very faithful but delivering one of the compilation’s best tracks. We won’t lie to you, we are nervous about what some of the original minds might think of the covers, but everyone has reacted with positive feedback, including Joselo, the voice and mind behind all the “Lento” beauty. Video footage comes from Alejandro Valle’s VHS-fantasy film Historias del Desencanto.
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