OMARA PORTUONDO SERENADES CALIFORNIA, BAJA Y ALTA TAMBIEN

It’s always nice to pick up some quality music while traveling, but the timing seldom works out unless I’ve actually planned it that way, and even then… suffice it to say that some people’s big festive ideas for big ideal festivals don’t always work out. The Crossroads moveable fest in southern Africa a couple months ago was good, if small and a bit provincial. The Sauti Za Busara fest in Zanzibar in February should be much better, while covering some of the same East Africa musical turf. It’s good, and a bit different from the West, from whence most of the African genre of ‘world music’ derives, more of a reggae feel, as opposed to the Latino (Cuban-Africaine?) feel in the West. I’m looking forward to it. Then there’s the legendary Festival du Desert in Timbuktu and its sister fests in Segou and elsewhere in Mali, but lately they’ve been looking a little more generic than originally, almost like WOMAD Sahara, but that’s probably mostly because so many Malians are successful outside their home country.

Individual shows are harder to come across, and you’ve got to be an avid signpost reader to make that happen, or a lucky MySpace peruser/pursuer. Still it can happen. This year alone I’ve caught Oliver Mtukudzi in Addis Ababa and Ba Cissoko in Marseilles, while missing (only by inches) Lura in Wroclaw and Tinariwen in Paris and Rachid Taha in selfsame Marseilles. Okay, so I missed them, big deal, but at least I KNOW that I missed them. Of course the magic can occur closer to home also, like catching Omara Portuondo last week in Tijuana. In addition to its own great classical sounds, Buena Vista Social Club accomplished nothing so much as a feeling of great loss at the ‘missing generation’- or two- of the hemisphere’s greatest popular music (after the US). Fortunately it also released a handful of aging musicians for one last go-round on the world stage, one larger than they ever had before. Omara Portuondo is one of those. Fortunately Cuba has excellent health care, the pride of the Caribbean, and Omara Portuondo looks as radiant as she ever did in her youth. If the feet and hips have slowed down a bit, the upper body sways with the rhythm as smoothly as ever, not bad for a woman pushing eighty fast.

And what a rhythm it is! It’s as smooth as… the cheap imported rayon that passes for silk these days in Cuba (but the health care’s good!). Led by guitarist and musical director Swami Jr., Omara went through her entire new album Gracias song by song, note by note. How’s that for a Communistic approach to a concert? But while the songs and notes may have been weighed and measured to original specs, the emotion was real that came from ‘la novia del filin,’ featuring such chestnuts as ‘O Que Sera’ (What Will Be), ‘Amame Como Soy’ (Love Me as I Am), Adios Felicidad (Bye-bye Happiness), and the title song of course- Quiero agradecer a quien corresponda… no quiero guardarme lo que siento… (I just want to thank whoever it concerns… I don’t want to keep these feelings inside…). And for the encore, can you guess? Guantanamera, of course, guajira Guantanamera if that helps you distinguish it from the notorious torture chamber that passes for a US army base, funded by US taxpayers and located on Cuban soil, in case you didn’t know. I’d be willing to bet quite a few don’t, but that’s the region where the best Cuban music originates, and not coincidentally only a stone’s throw from Haiti.

Given a previous song in praise of Che and her striking resemblance to a terrorist’s grandmother, it’s amazing she can even get a visa to sing in the US, but she still can… sometimes. On Oct. 20 she’ll be at the San Francisco Palace of Fine Arts and Oct. 23 in Royce Hall at UCLA, so I guess the visa came through. I hope she’s not sitting in TJ waiting for it, though I thought I saw a woman at the Calimax with a basket of fruit on her head… Angelenos are so lucky, the best music in the world right there on the doorstep, offering itself up for little or nothing, so anxious are so many musicians to carve out their little niche in the Fantasy Factory for subsequent export. Hey, there’s got to be something the Chinese will buy… if only we could teach them Engrish ranguage. They kicked the big O a century ago… R&R wars anyone?

It’ll take Cuba longer. For all the glossy six-color tourist rap, downtown Havana ain’t pretty. But Omara is, and with a voice like a songbird in the morning. Hopefully the tourists will be crossing the Straits soon, and not just to Varadero’s sometimes-sunny beaches. And hopefully the new generation of musicians will get caught up before the ketchup. But it’s not yet, because Omara still hasn’t gotten a visa for the Grammys in Vegas next month. Of course if I’d known she’d be in LA… but naah, CECUT in TJ has a Cubanosofia cultural series going all month, worth checking out. The revolution started in DF, after all. I wonder where it’ll end?

Slide to FreedomII: Make a Better World- "Dobro means good in any language."

That’s an old motto of the Dobro Manufacturing Corporation- for any of you non-industry people less than 100 years old- the word ‘dobro’ itself a trade name, now property of the Gibson Guitar Corporation, which intends to vigorously defend its exclusive rights to the name btw. So sue me. If you’ve ever spent time in a Slavic country you might be excused for imagining that they’re a race of resonance-guitar lovers, but no, in fact the word DOES mean ‘good’ in nearly all of them, so you hear it frequently. I used to jokingly refer to this for my dobro-playing younger brother without even knowing that the Slovakian-born DOpyera BROthers indeed had this also partly in mind when they named their new company. The rest is history, but only part of it.

The intimate connection between blues-based slide guitar and country-based dobro doesn’t get talked about very much, much less expounded upon, but the connections are there, and it’s more than just the ‘tude. It’s the tunes. At the same time that the Dopyera Bros. and the National String Instrument Corp. were trading secrets, designs, and patents in factories and courts and board-rooms, Blind Willie McTell, Son House, Robert Johnson, and others were doing something a little bit different with their guitars in the Mississippi delta. All of them had probably played with the ‘diddley bow’ (as in ‘Bo Diddley’) as children, a one-string toy instrument eerily reminiscent of some one-string African designs, played with a glass or metal slide…

The connection with Hawaiian slack-key style slide guitar is more remote, though, and India’s slide tradition hardly even known… until recently. Canadian slide guitar and Dobro master Doug Cox knows them all… and loves them… and can play most of them. But on this album he had to dig deeper into the corners to get just the sound he was looking for… on his gadgie, a resonance guitar even more obscure than a Dobro™ (satisfied now, Gibson?). “Slide to Freedom II: Make a Better World” is his latest collaboration with Indian sitarist and veena player Salil Bhatt, son of the master Vishwa Mohan Bhatt.

One of the nice things about ‘world music’ is that because of the plethora of regions and cultures represented, there are no sharp divisions between classes, simply because they no longer have much meaning outside the local context. And I don’t mean social classes as much as I mean classes of anything. Everything’s connected. This is a good thing. Best of all you can be a nerd intellectual and still be cool, or you can be urban and still be country, or you can live simultaneously in about three different countries signing your e-mails with your current GPS co-ordinates (or maybe that’s just me). So you’re in a funny mood tonight and can’t decide whether you’d like to listen to some classical Indian music or some down-home folk blues? With the album ‘Slide to Freedom II: Make a Better World’ you can do both, where various versions of Indian slides on strings intermix effortlessly with their American counterparts.

The album leads off with the title song “Make a Better World” by Earl King and that pretty much sets the redemptive tone for the album- “sing sing sing… join hands, do yo’ thing, make a better world to live in,” or at least about half of it anyway. In some act of cosmic symmetry, whether accidental or intentional, the album is pretty much divided between modern covers and classical-Indian-inspired instrumentals. I personally probably reached my ‘Amazing Grace’ saturation point long ago, but I can always get up for one more, and the one here is a nice to-the-nailhead-point version. And it’s always nice to hear someone cover the late great George Harrison- another Shankar disciple, along with Salil Bhatt’s father- in this case ‘For You Blue.’ But the real chestnut of a cover song is ‘I Scare Myself’ by Dan Hicks. When’s the last time you heard someone cover that? They nail it, too, its spookiness only augmented with eerie gospel vocals.

A special note needs to be said about the accompaniment to the major collaborators Salil and Cox. Salil’s father and mentor Vishwa delivers a stinging almost ungodly solo on ‘For You Blue’- as though some buddy still had another lick to lay down- and Ramkumar Mishra maintains a tabla rhythm throughout the album without which it would not have been the same, nor nearly so successful. But the real revelation is New Orleans blues and gospel singer John Boutte’. After listening several times to the album without carefully perusing the notes and credits beforehand, I kept thinking, “Who is that ballsy blues mama doing the vocals?” Well ballsy indeed, imagine my surprise at seeing John Boutte’s name- and face. Little surprises like that are magical, like imagining that maybe Michael Jackson’s soul divided around 1990 and the sane half went to New Orleans and became a kick-ass blues-and-gospel singer, while the other half… you know. Tenors are not that rare, but for a blues and gospel singer? As with the tabla-based rhythm, it is excellent and serves to help define the album.

The album’s other half is pretty much straight-ahead Indian string-based instrumental, heavy on the slide, which, according to Salil Bhatt, has always been an element of its use. Thus “A Letter Home,” “Blessings,” and “The Moods of Madhuva” all allow your mind to wander while simultaneously blowing it, as you meditate on origins and endings and the ways and means to it all. The beauty is that- as Doug Cox put it- you really don’t know who’s doing what all the time, the parts fit so seamlessly together. Albums like this are more than just happy accidents and brilliant mistakes. There is purpose and vision behind it. As Cox himself says: “…the future of traditional music really lies in the coming together of cultures. Folk music until now came from isolated cultures developing their own unique style of music. That’s not going to happen anymore.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself. The album ends with “Freedom Raga” by Cox, which sets the still-yearning closing tone for the album, “I touch freedom, I smell freedom…” as if by simple affirmation we could correct all the slights and injustices that have ever been perpetrated in the history of the world. Would that it were that easy… Listening to “Slide to Freedom II- Make a Better World” is easy. Check it out.

'IMIDIWAN: COMPANIONS' by TINARIWEN- the Desert Bears Fruit

Mali’s Tinariwen is one of only a handful of artists in the history of modern alternative popular music- The Beatles, Stones, Bowie and Elvis in the UK; Dylan, the Dead, Springsteen and Patti Smith in the US, Marley in Jamaica, Manu Chao in Europe, Carabao in Thailand, Mana’ in Mexico, and maybe… maybe… Cheb Khaled in Algeria- that is/was truly larger than life, whose reputation precedes them, that the term ‘classic’ becomes affixed to without hesitation. Of course first they must make it past the bewitching age of twenty-seven without self-destructing or fading away into uselessness, but most of all these are all bands or artists that mean something. There is something more important than album sales going on in each of these cases- politically, socially, and artistically- though the musicianship is never in question for any of them.

Of course as a band already well into middle age Tinariwen hardly has the oeuvre that the other artists had at a much earlier age, but then much of their best work probably still lies ahead. How many of the others can say the same? I bet they’ve got some of the best stories. And if life growing up in the desert seems like a curse, consider that they’ve also been very lucky coming from one of only a handful of places- besides Mali, maybe only Cuba, New Orleans, and where else?- that is truly musically magical. Thus when the Festival du Desert in Timbuktu was first getting off the ground less than a short ten years ago, you had the likes of Ali Farka Toure’, Oumou Sangare’, Justin Adams, and Robert Plant… yes that Robert Plant, there as participants and witnesses to something extraordinary about to take place, the unification of Mali by music, something still only tentative politically.

When I first became aware of Tinariwen only three short years ago, they were my big discovery of the year. Out of some 100+ CD’s that I gathered as part of my birthright as a first-time paying member of the World Music trade conference WOMEX, a short 3-song sampler by Tinariwen was my favorite. I turned other non-industry people on to it. Little did I know then of their preceding legend, guns and guitars and revolutions and revelations and all that, even less that they were about to break BIG, or big by world music standards anyway. Within a year they were opening for the Stones and touring small clubs in the US non-stop. Then I found out that not only had they already played the Festival International in Lafayette, LA, but they’d played for coffee at NAU in my own adopted home town of Flagstaff, AZ, courtesy of Blackfire’s Benally family, they themselves also veterans of two Festivals du Desert. I still have black-and-blue marks from my self-inflicted back kicks over that one.

Fast forward to the present and Tinariwen is past the heady days of their triumphant international debut and ready to prove their staying power. To take twenty years to produce an album or two is one thing. Can they do it every year or two? If their new album is any indication, I suspect they can. Imidiwan (‘Companions’) shows no signs of the slowing down, toning down, self-conscious caution, or the- God forbid- cover album that frequently afflicts a red-hot band’s senior thesis. Too often a real ‘thriller’ gets followed by something ‘bad.’ And they now have to contend with many imitators and band-wagoneers, too. Anybody can do their version of ‘desert blues,’ but there’s more to it than that. Many bands play ‘Afro-Beat’ also, but how many can sound like Fela? It’s the same with Tinariwen. If they were a one-trick pony, they’d have washed up on the sand long ago. Imidiwan shows the full range of their repertoire.

In my lifetime, most of the albums I’ve listened to I’ve only heard once, and maybe half that many again only twice. Though I listen more than that to any album I review, I probably listened to Imidiwan five times… in rapid succession. That’s the highest compliment I can pay any album. They’ve still got the magic. The opening song ‘Imidiwan Afrik Temdam’ is classic Tinariwen, meditative and reflective as the desert wind, and the second song ‘Lulla’ follows in the same vein, adding those soothing female background vocals that balance the sometimes-raw Tinariwen sound so nicely. ‘Tenhert’ is a rap-and-boogie-woogie number and ‘Enseqi Ehad Didagh’ a slow earthy blues. ‘Tahult In’ follows in the boogie vein, which is a pleasant evolution to the Tinariwen repertoire, an enhanced down-to-earth melodical feel. In general, the album maybe veers a bit toward Ali Farka’s earthiness, and away from raw desert edginess. Chabiba sounds so much like an American folk lament that I halfway expected to hear Townes Van Zandt join in on a verse. Maybe success is mellowing Tinariwen out… or maybe not. Maybe it’s rounding them out. The closing song ‘Desert Wind’ is a five minute instrumental that needs no DJ remix version to define its sense of space. The space is infinite. That’s Imidiwan by Tinariwen. The desert just got less lonely. Check it out.

“AGUA DEL POZO” by ALEX CUBA- More Pop, Hold the Salsa

He may wear an Afro and he may be Cuban, but Alex (Puentes) Cuba is definitely not Afro-Cuban, at least not his music… well, not much anyway. This is pure Latino-pop, Cuban style, gone north to British Columbia, Canada, for special seasoning. Latin music hasn’t seen pop hooks like this since Gloria Estefan or Ricky (who?) Martin, Shakira notwithstanding- or maybe notwithshaking, her own considerable hips. His lyricism, his romanticism, his optimism- and his pure pop hooks- are all imminently notable. Nelly Furtado took note, and booked him as a collaborator on her new Spanish-language album Mi Plan, title song cowritten with- you guessed it- Alex Cuba. Mae Furtado didn’t raise a fool for a daughter; this is a good career move for Nelly, deflecting anxieties over how to follow her previous smash hit album while moving on to that lucrative Shakira turf as an extension of her own more-adult-than-Britney-but-still-sexy-as-Hell middle ground. Don’t underestimate Canadian loyalty in her nurturing of Alex either. They’re both immigrants.

It’s obviously a good move for Alex Cuba, too. The man has got some commercial instincts, in addition to his considerable musical talents. The middle ground is obviously where mass popularity lives, by definition, and that’s the turf he claims on this album. It’s seems to be a shift he’s comfortable with also, away from strict Afro-Cuban music toward ballads and boleros and trova and… silly love songs. The first song on the album ‘Amor Infinito’ makes clear the intent- amor infinito… que siento contigo... que habla de mis sentimientos (‘the infinite love… that I feel with you… that speaks of my sentiments’) and weaves its way through the entire album.

Alex hasn’t left his Afro-Cuban roots totally behind, though, certainly not in the two songs co-written with his twin brother and sometime collaborator Adonis, the title song and Vampiro. Thought maybe 'Agua del Pozo' (‘Water from the Well’) would be reflective and existential or maybe something deep and meditative as if coming from the Dalai (‘deep sea’) Lama himself? Think again. It concerns itself with the usual Afro-Cuban obsessions of moving and shaking, butts not politics, ‘me gusta como te mueves… sacando el agua del pozo’ (‘I like the way you move it, taking water from the well’). So much for deep thought, but it DOES feature hot Santana-like guitar licks.

‘Vampiro’, with the help of some brassy riffs, flirts with the dark side a bit- esta noche quiero estar contigo, amarnos escondidos… ser vampiro de tu amor (‘Tonight I want to be with you, hidden away loving each other… being the vampire of your love’)- but not much. Most of Cuba’s lyrics are playful and dreamy- almost childishly optimistic and naïve- and affirm that ‘happy ending’ faith with little but symbolic intervention, like the dreamy light pop of ‘Pide Un Deseo’ (Make a Wish)- porque una estrella cae, porque puse mi arma en el cielo de vencer ella (‘because a star falls, because I shot it down just to get her’).

Even when Cuba tries to get mysterious and metaphysical as in ‘Fiesta de Religion’ his optimism and light smooth jazzy touches hardly miss a lick, talking about ‘donde se hablan los verdades’ (‘where the truths are spoken’), more credit than a lot of people would give religion, even Santeria. Ever the romantic, his faith lies more typically in love, as in the closing song “De Manera Que,” dame un poco de tu fe…hazlo de manera que… siento que no cambian los anos que hice mi amor (give me a little of your faith… so that… I don’t feel that the years are passing while I love you”).

About the only thing ‘wrong’ with the album is that it’s maybe a bit too long, and that’s a spurious complaint, one easily lived with, like too much of a good thing. The salsa-lite numbers sink in effortlessly, even if the slower numbers take an extra listen or two. All he really needs now is a big hit to carry him over the top, and whether he or Nelly or someone else sings it doesn’t really matter. There are half a dozen songs on "AGUA DEL POZO" that could potentially chart out on the Latin top 40, so it’s just a matter of time. 'Si Pero No' is maybe the best bet since it’s already hit the iTunes download charts and you don’t exactly need an MA in Spanish Lit to understand the indecisions of life and love.

I don’t think we’ll be talking about the ‘Kamloops Sound’ any time soon, but Alex Cuba has got a busy career ahead of him. The question is, “Are we ready?” The next question is, “Could he do it in English without losing that saborrrrr….?” Stay tuned… but first, give it a listen, "AGUA DEL POZO," and prepare to get hooked. Now if only the US and that other Cuba would settle their differences…

"Agua Del Pozo" written & performed by Alex Cuba http://drop.io/alexcubaustrack2

(Author’s note- Pardon any mis-translations, but I can only translate what I can hear, and we ‘journalists’ don’t get lyrics sheets. Sometimes the CD beta-versions we get don’t even have song titles! So I do the best I can. Just last week I finally heard the correct lyrics to ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ for the first time from Paul Anka’s version- though I think maybe my own lyrics were better. Still I think lyrics are important, however tentative or partial. I for one don’t believe that the final solution to the world’s- and world music’s- ‘language problem’ is ‘English Only.’ So I persevere. Tamashek anyone?

On another note, I’m including a free song download for the first time. If it’s hassle-free, then I hope to do it more, artist willing. Considering that I frequently blog up from remote corners of the world, ‘hassle-free’ is not always the operative concept. Lastly, thanks to those of you who follow my blog, especially those of you who let me know one way or another. This blog’s for you. Enjoy.)

Les Triaboliques’ “rivermudtwilight”- Guitar String Theory 401 (frets optional)

Justin Adams is on something of a roll these days, at least as rolls go in the world music genre. In addition to his day job as Robert Plant’s main axman, he’s one of the masterminds behind Festival du Desert and the ‘Saharan blues’ group Tinariwen’s rise to prominence in the last few years, along with their many imitators. He also has a successful collaboration in process with Gambian griot Juldeh Camara, a collaboration that’s kept them at the top of the WMCE for most of the last four months. Now he’s got a new album out, “rivermudtwilight” by Les Triaboliques (The Triabolical Ones), in collaboration with two other world music veterans Ben Mandelson and Lou Edmonds, themselves also guitarists though manning a plethora of diverse, if similar, instruments for this project, notably the oud-like cumbus and fretless kabosy. Considering that he wrote all but two of the album’s songs, it’s notable that he’s willing to share the spotlight in what could be a timely Justin Adams solo effort. But the collaboration is a good one. They sound as if they’ve been playing together for years; maybe that’s because they have.

I guess it was only a matter of time before Western musicians with experience in world music bands would come home and form their own bands. Next, musicians from Chinese world music bands will join with Moroccan ones I suppose. If some people lament the golden age of the BAND as metaphysical entity, I welcome the current age of band as project, multiple collaborations on many levels. But that impermanence doesn’t have to imply carelessness or sloppy work. Indeed Les Triaboliques have anything but a ‘trevil-may-care’ (get it? Triabolical/trevil?) attitude, in what are some exquisitely crafted songs spanning the folk traditions from Africa to Andalusia to Aberdeen. With the possible exception of ‘Ledmo,’ something of an acid-grass instrumental doodle, the majority of songs are nothing if not intense, albeit not necessarily fast, songs.

The album’s opening song ‘Crossing the Stone Bridge’ sets the tone, and along with ‘Black Earth Boys’ may be the most accessible song on the album, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re the best. The ballads ‘Turns the Worm’ and ‘Shine a Light’ positively beg you to enter the dark side- if only for a moment- and the traditional ‘Jack o’ Diamonds’ could hold its own with ‘John Barleycorn’ as an example of a traditional song successfully gone pop. On the title song Adams indulges in a little ‘chicken pickin’ as the vocals intone ‘got to find a simple life’ in a compelling dirge-like lament. In fact all of Adams’ compositions show a surprising poetic sensibility that is rare in any form of popular music, not least of all ‘Crossing the Stone Bridge’ (‘we belong to the earth… everything is recorded’).

‘Afsaduni’ has a strong Arabic connection while ‘Gulaguajira- I the Dissolute Prisoner’ invokes an Afro-Cuban feel, albeit mixed with Russian lyrics. In what seems something of a British tradition, Les Triaboliques give ‘Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood’ a go… and nail it. I almost cried. That song has been re-defined as a medieval English ballad meandering through the centuries to re-emerge as conditions dictate. Last but not least ‘Phosphor Lane’ closes the album in something like an inverse Jimi Hendrix version of ‘Star Spangled Banner’, an anthemic closing ceremony.

Les Triaboliques re-invent the stringed instrument as a tool of the earth, its favorite son and favorite father, playing the blues while wiping away the sweat. Thus the blues returns to the dirt from which it came. The album evokes nothing so much as a bygone era, an era in which strings were plucked like so much wheat- or cotton- being harvested, whether in England or the High Atlas or the remote steppes of Asia. This is the Medieval Era of darkness, superstition… and magic, an era in which cultures that had long gone forth and divided began to reconnect with one another. Fortunately you don’t have to wait for these minstrels to wander to your town in order to hear the message. The hard work’s been done for you already. You can just click ‘Download.’ That’s “rivermudtwilight” by Les Triaboliques. Check it out.

2009 FESTIVAL SEASON NOT OVER YET

Coachella and Lollapalooza may take the limelight, but world music has some good festivals, too, and a couple of the best are yet to come. The Chicago World Music Festival features such notables as Blick Bassy, Hanggai, Los de Abajo, Cheb i Sabbah, and Markus James, as well as such up-and-comers as Watcha’ Clan, Fishtank Ensemble, Kusun Ensemble, and Momo. The festival will take place from September 18-24 in various locations around the city. Find more at www.worldmusicfestivalchicago.org.

Not to be outdone, !Globalquerque!, the Albuquerque world music festival, will take place Sept. 25-26 on three stages at the Hispanic Cultural Center. As of press time the scheduled bands include those same Blick Bassy from Cameroon and Kusun Ensemble from Ghana, as well as Novalima from Peru and Vasen from Sweden, and many others from the ethnic nooks and crannies of the US and world, including and especially New Mexico’s own Robert Mirabal of Taos Pueblo, Dine’/Kiowa Toppah & Yazzie, and Dwayne Ortega and the Young Guns. This is a pretty impressive lineup for a city that ranks only 59^th among the nation’s largest metropolitan areas. Always looking for new angles to get the music to the people, organizer Tom Frouge has even added a pre-show !Localquerque! in conjunction with the NM State Fair on Sept. 20. These are top-notch world music gatherings that would usually only happen in a major city with major funding, so good work, guys! Find details at www.globalquerque.com.

Back in LA, the Levitt Pavilion at MacArthur Park wraps things up this week with its traditional 1-2-3 punch of Korean Music-Central American Independence Day-Mexican Independence Day Celebrations on Sept. 11-12-13 respectively, ending another great season of free music for all us folks, down in LA’s inner city barrio area. Find out more at www.levittpavilionlosangeles.org. Since Levitt Pasadena and Grand Performances downtown have already finished their summer music schedules, that’ll pretty much wrap things up for LA this summer as things begin to move inside for the winter in what is arguably America’s most ethnic city. Those who knock LA as being celluloidal and characterless haven’t been to the barrio, or Little Ethiopia, or Little Armenia, or Koreatown or Japantown or Chinatown or Thai Town, all with their own celebrations and cultures and languages and immigrants, sometimes still more attached to the homeland than to America. This is notable, and perhaps even preferable, to the traditional ‘melting pot’ concept.

Are you interested in something a bit different? A celebration of Thai culture called Himmapan 2^nd World just may be coming to a venue near you. Created and organized by Todd ‘Tongdee’ Lavelle and supported by the Thai Foreign Ministry and Singha Beer, the shows feature twenty Thai and Thailand-based world music artists, and will appear in at least ten US cities this September, comprising the Northeast, Chicago, Pacific Northwest, California, and Texas. And if you’re thinking of some predictable ballet folklorico, well think again. Thailand has contemporary culture with the best of them, and many different regions and traditions all part of the mix. Long-haired pony-tailed Fulbright Scholar Todd is himself something of a local legend in Thailand, one of the few Westerners to fully break through the cultural barriers and become integrated into the highest levels of Thai society, giving speeches and hosting TV programs, even becoming a self-styled ‘cultural ambassador.’ He’s also a musician and promoter, organizing the annual ‘Rhythm of the Earth Fest’ in Bangkok every year, among others. It should be a good show; there should be more. Find details at http://himmapanworld.com/. Enjoy.

“Ake Doni Doni- Take It Slow” by Cheick Hamala Diabate- Griot-pop For the People

Our wild crazy modern global village creates some pretty incongruous combinations, but a griot in Washington, D.C.? Yep, and his name is Cheick Hamala Diabate (yes, one of those Diabates), doing everything a griot is supposed to do, including playing music. Of course the griot’s duties go beyond music, into history, hagiography, and even advice to those lost and found in love. The best analogy might be to the Baptist preacher in African-American communities in the US Deep South, where there is little separation between church and state. They must be always at the ready to explain the world to those hungry for understanding, preferably before the undertaking. For such occasions music plays an almost supernatural role of transcendence, a language connecting disparate worlds, just as it does for many of us late-20^th century pilgrims and forest-dwellers now gone millenial digital.

Except in the case of Cheick Hamala Diabate, he’s preaching and teaching and singing the gospel for expatriate Africans, particularly West Africans, particularly Malians. More and more ex-pats in the US assimilate less and less, preferring instead to mix and match what works best from both worlds, particularly in large cities where the force of their numbers allows for true community. It’s a dirty little secret- the ‘melting pot’ never had meaning beyond the European- mostly northern European- communities of early US history. Of course this is a wonderful opportunity for us ‘normal’ W-A-S-P Americans who have long ago shed our stingers, preferring instead to extend our fingers into every cultural nexus that presents itself within our reach. Often this requires nothing more than a trip to the other side of town, like another dimension right there hiding in plain sight. But music’s even better- you just push a button and turn up the volume- if you know which button to push. Thanks to Google and MySpace, we’re now limited only by our imaginations… and search exhaustion.

Part of Diabate’s musical mission is to reunite his first instrument, the African n’goni, with its long-lost American third-cousin-twice-removed, the banjo. To this end he has mastered both, and even introduced the banjo to his fellow countrymen back home. He has also learned the guitar, which he plays left-handed and upside down (I guess he tired of looking for left-handed guitars). In the process he has collaborated with such US musical luminaries as Bela Fleck and Bob Carlin, even picking up a Grammy nomination in the process, not bad for a country preacher. Now if you’re thinking that maybe an hour of dirge-like droning or African bluegrass isn’t exactly your style, think again. This is pure Afro-pop, thanks to his back-up band Chopteeth.

The title song Ake Doni Doni- ‘Take It Slow’ is a rocking jazzy number sung in English about the dangers of HIV and the need to… you guessed it. Sex is better that way anyway, isn’t it? For some reason that song closes the album, though I personally would have preferred it as the opener. The song that DOES open the album is the mid-tempo ‘Den Wourou Lalou’, which features some bouncey Farfisa-like organ, slick guitar and some wailing female backup vocals while intoning in English to “get an education,” etc. It’s a nice song, but a bit indecisive as the opener. The second song ‘Wanto Doke’ quickly rectifies that, a straight-ahead mid-tempo griot rap that features Diabate’s own superb vocals and some more smart guitar. Unfortunately these and most of the album’s lyrics are in African dialect- I’m guessing Bambara- but feature more advice on the need for self-reliance and responsibility.

From there the album ranges from the slow brooding vocals of ‘Tounka Mani’ to ‘Oude Diallo’s ethereal female wailing to the lively brass and funky banjo of ‘Djeli Fily Tounkara.’ True to griot form the album slows down and grows more pensive toward the end- except for the title song- with the hypnotic instrumentals of ‘Den Den’ and ‘Baba Sissoko Dabia’s slow lilting repetitive talk-over. This would have been a good song to end on, a nice slow walk after a good long ride. That’s a rather small complaint for a really good album. A special note of mention should go to Cheick’s daughter Astou Diabate, who does a fine job throughout, while getting scarce mention in the notes. I hope Cheick’s not hiding her away, trying to marry her off to some lawyer. I’m guessing Cheick’s not really his name either btw, more of an honorific, usually spelled ‘sheikh’ in English. He’s a Muslim preacher you see, the religion of Mali and much of West Africa. Fundamentally the teachings are the same as Christianity; the God IS the same. The music is at least as good, maybe better. Check it out.

‘ETERNAL’ BY HUUN HUUR TU & CARMEN RIZZO

If the essence of any art, including music, is creative combination, then that’s reason enough to follow world music. I think of it like a genome project, recombining the DNA of culture, in this case music. On their new album ‘ETERNAL’ Tuva throat singers Huun Huur Tu and Californian musician/producer Carmen Rizzo have pushed the envelope about as far as it can go in terms of creative combination. What could be more different than a band of traditional musicians from the Siberian steppes and a hot Grammy-nominated LA producer who specializes in electronic and Middle Eastern music? But wait a minute… maybe they aren’t as different as they seem at first.

For one thing, all music- all sound even- is essentially a form of percussion, whether it’s air striking vocal cords or reeds or drum heads. Hold that and you’ve got a frequency, a note, capable of being modulated and amplified. Do that in a pattern and you’ve got a song, all from the simple act of timing your blows and re-arranging them, like gene-splicing. Of course when musical traditions are separated by thousands of years and thousands of miles, it’s interesting to see how differently they’ve evolved and whether they can still get it on together and create offspring.

As with any true art and artists, what Huun Huur Tu and Carmen Rizzo have most in common is the element of abstraction attained. They each go so far in opposite directions, Huun Huur Tu meta-earthy and Rizzo meta-lectronic, that they come very close to meeting… in the ether. We all have some notion about how electronic music works, but how do Tuvan throat singers accomplish those bizarre poly-tonal chantings? “(False vocal cords)… have minimal role in normal phonation, but are often used in musical screaming and the death grunt singing style. They are also used in Tuvan throat singing.” (mahalo, wiki-Wiki) Aha! You knew they were doing something different, right? They’re using body parts not normally even used for intonation, an extra set of folds above the ‘true vocal cords.’ It’s usually known as ‘overtone singing,’ producing two tones at the same time, and can even be heard in some forms of yodeling. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever heard before.

The rest is history. I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘the race for Tuvala’ or anything like that yet, but ever since ‘Genghis Blues’, the movie about Paul Pena’s journey to Tuva land to participate in the annual throat-singing competition, interest in the art and its artists has been growing. Ondar started it all, taking a five-year-old throat singer on talk shows, doing Letterman himself, and now rapping with the late physicist Richard Feynman (presumably not talking about quantum electrodynamics, though maybe ‘sums over histories’) in the background. As an interesting aside, Feynman’s interest derived from stamp collecting, the briefly independent country of Tuvala providing the most obscure ones he ever had and becoming a lifelong obsession to visit. Permission finally came from Tuvala’s new owner Russia, but after Feynman died.

Another well-known Tuva band, Yat-kha does Western pop covers and punk/metal like Tom Waits on Valium dépêche mode vocals. And then there’s Chirgilchin maintaining the traditional style. Huun Huur Tu splits the difference really nicely, adapting and evolving the art while avoiding any grandstanding or outrageous showyness. Meanwhile Bela Fleck and Laurie Anderson and others all have big plans for throat-singing collaborations and Tanya Tagaq takes a more playful Inuit throat-singing tradition and does Bjorkish things with it that might get a whale excited.

If much of Tuvan throat-singing is at least something of a… an… acquired taste, well rest assured that this collaboration goes down like honey. Traditional Tuvan throat singing may never be the same. The album can pretty much be divided up into three parts- the ones that include sweeping Chinese-inspired vocals like ‘Ancestors’ Call’ or ‘Mother Taiga,’ the ones that are more purely soundscapes like ‘Saryglarlar’ or ‘Dogee Mountain’ (Interlude), and the more typical deep throaty textures like ‘In Search of a Lost Past’ or ‘Orphaned Child’ or ‘Tuvan Prayer’. All in all the whole thing could be titled ‘Theme from an Imaginary Chinese Movie’ or even be the soundtrack TO that movie and fit right in. Imagine Zhang Ziyi being carried over steppe and dune on the backs of Mongolian porters. Imagine Mongol horsemen gathering on the hillside. Imagine a shaman beating a drum and dancing and chanting inside a rug-adorned yurt. Let your imagination run wild. This album will help, ‘ETERNAL’ by Huun Huur Tu and Carmen Rizzo. Check it out.

Crossroads Music Festival Rocks Zambia

It's not like I traveled across the planet just to come to this small regional festival, but it's not like I didn't either. Opportunities for true 'cultural travel' are few and far between, and generally more staged than spontaneous (otherwise it might not happen, right?). X-Roads is still in that category, shifting dates and flakey info, never sure if it'll happen, much less WHEN. Festival du Desert has long ago become just another world music festival, albeit in Timbuktu, but don't expect to hang out with Tinariwen these days. X-Roads doesn't have names like these, of course, and it's not even fully professional even, more like tomorrow's stars paying today's dues. But it's good, and fun. It revolves around the five countries of Zambia, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Malawi, and Tanzania, almost everything, that is, except Francophone Africa. Surprisingly enough, France is chief sponsor of this event. Merci beaucoup.

Unfortunately I was fighting flu-like symptoms at the time and couldn't participate fully, but the music was a welcome tonic, and the vibe was cool... and lively. I'm better now. The pictures don't really do it justice. Check out their MySpace site.

Morley Brings Lyrics to LA; TJ’s Got Talent 2

Don’t look now, but sincere heartfelt lyrics may just be making a comeback. Just when you (or I, that is) thought that hip-hop’s mindless but infectious rap and the lush soundscapes of re-mix dance grooves had just about rendered real lyrics obsolete, there are encouraging signs that such is not necessarily the case. No, I don’t mean Coldplay. Sure, they’re okay, but still not much more than window-dressing in the lyric department. Read the lyrics without the music and you probably wouldn’t get very far or be very impressed. Come to think of it, that’s probably true of most pop (*in the broad sense) music. That could be changing, and Morley is part of that trend. Bottom line: if it’s good, it’ll sell. I’ve never seen such an explosion of pop* music of all genres, and almost wouldn’t have believed it possible if I weren’t seeing it. I remember distinctly in 1961 (at the age of seven) thinking that it had all been done in pop* music, nothing left to do. I was wrong. This is what the MySpace revolution is all about, more than just false friends and free music. We’ve always had free music. Now it’s OURS.

Morley wears her politics like a badge close to her heart, and keeps it right there, available for inspection. It serves as an inspiration for her, not a whipping post. Listen to ‘Women of Hope,’ dedicated to Aung San Suu Kyi, quoting her timeless dictum: “If you feel helpless, then help someone,” and continuing on, “I believe the Almighty knows each and every one of you by your name.” This is good stuff (the fact that Daw Aung San’s political naivete’ and unrealistic expectations may have actually harmed her cause and held her country back is another story: would any country allow a woman to be President while married to a foreigner?). But that’s another story. Aung San was just visiting her mother in 1988, remember…

Morley’s equally at home with her emotions… and her beauty… and her sex… as in ‘Pleasure’: “one kiss on your lips… I could die and be happy… to have lived… just to bring you pleasure.” We haven’t seen female suppleness and emotional vulnerability like this since Joni Mitchell. Then there’s the perennial existential dilemma expressed in ‘Temporary Lighthouses’ (“on a raging sea… doing my best to follow your lead”). Tracy Chapman’s got nothing on her, not much anyway. Her optimism and down-hominess is infectious, too, not bad for a NYC gal. Obviously she knows that McArthur Park is hardly LA’s prime venue, yet didn’t even insult the place by condescending to it: she lifted it up as an epiphany, an event something larger than us that we were sharing in. Did I yet mention that she’s a looker, even elegant? One blurb puts her “somewhere between Sade and Portishead.” I’d add Joni Mitchell and Tracy Chapman- two points define a line; four points define a compass.

I’ll get used to Morley’s name eventually. I still visualize a middle-aged kinky-haired TV reporter, but it’ll pass. Why she chooses to market herself through world music channels I don’t know, but she’s welcome. I’m loosening my requirements. McArthur Park itself is undergoing a face-lift, too, I might add. First they ran off the drug dealers, now they’ve run off the soccer players (read: the port-a-poopers ARE CLEAN). They must have read my complaints. The soccer players’ loss is our gain. They’ve got a free music program second to none and almost every night of the week, gracias a Levitt Pavilion. Get down there and show some support, so they’ll know their efforts were not in vain.

Susan Boyle, the frumpy church-singer, is now a full-fledged singing star only three months after her first Britain’s Got Talent appearance. I experienced something similar in TJ (Tijuana) a few nights ago. His name’s Armando Vidal, aka ‘El Gume’ (?!). He’s got a voice like a church organ, a guitar style somewhere between Segovia and the Del Castillo brothers, and I estimate he tops the scales at over three hundred pounds, all the better for that voice to resonate inside of (how’s that for a dangling participle?). I saw him do a solo set of his own particular brand of trova, folk songs from all over Latin America, and including poems that he himself put to music. Apparently he plays salsa also, but I haven’t seen that yet. Latin America’s got TV judge shows, and they’ve got an ‘Idol’ show, but I don’t think they’ve got a ‘Talent’ show yet (we stole their ‘Ugly Betty’ btw). When they do, look out! Fortunately, you can see him now for the price of a drink, at Antigua Bodega de Papel, Calle 11 between Revolucion and Madero in beautiful downtown TJ, all the way down from the silver arch, usually Thursdays but Google first to make sure. GO!