|
DABOA "FROM THE GEKKO”
[Third Wave, trecd
115] |
| Gamelon Anyone? |
| Nelson Brill |
|
May 2004 |
Where
to begin with this audiophile gem? First, it
defies all rigid categorization, blending
soaring and liquid vocals with a heady mix of
Baroque, jazz, flamenco, rap and laughter. The
sonics of this recording are as resplendent as
the jungle of sounds that it emerges from,
rewarding the listener with gorgeous sonic
surprises, like spotting a fleetingly rare
scarlet macaw in flight. This gem will really
test your system’s ability to deliver musical
nuances, low-level details and a soundstage as
broad as your listening space will allow. How
well can your system reproduce the sounds of a
flowing river and then the shimmering highs of
a gamelon or the crack of maracas? Feed it
this disc and be immersed in a lush landscape
of color and sound from whose undergrowth it
is very difficult to emerge-got a machete?
Daboa consists of vocalist Maria Marquez and
her creative partner, vocalist and
multi-instrumentalist Frank Harris, who wrap
their sinuous and beautiful melodies around
intricate vocals, chants and calls, supplied
by other musicians and pre-recorded sounds and
voices. The disc commences with what may be
the deepest crunch of sheer bass you may
encounter, simulating the giant mortars called
“Pilones” used by women in the central coast
of Venezuela to mash corn. Canton Del Pilon
continues into a swirl of delicate layers of
sound, including a background of laughing
children and a rooster crowing from the deep
soundstage. Low level detail and nuances are
to be mined from every corner of the musical
event portrayed. The richness of this musical
journey continues in “Bein’ Green,” a radical
departure from the versions performed by Ray
Charles and Van Morrison, where layers of
recordings of the Surui Indians of Brazil are
juxtaposed with the liquid vocals of Marquez,
soprano sax and delicate rainforest sounds.
The version is both a somber and beautiful
rendition, conveying the sense of renewal as
well as primordial loss: the linear notes
indicate that the chant of the Surui in this
song were originally created as a chant
welcoming the first white persons they
encountered. From its closing thunder clap, we
move to the unique, shimmering sounds of the
gamelon in Jakarta. All at once, we are
transported to a musical landscape of
uplifting delicate harmonies, plunging in the
next musical phrase to the depths that the
unique gamelon can render. This shimmer and
deep plunge will test every ounce of your
system’s ability to get the tone color of the
gamelon right, leaning forth to comprehend the
complexity of this unique sound-producing
body. In Campesina, water first flows
forth from the wide soundstage, joined by
delicate percussion, vocals and animal sounds.
This piece unveils wonderful sonic surprises
and delicate detail, revealed to the listener
in perfect time and pace. One should not hurry
here, but linger in the wealth of enveloping
colors and let the surprises of musical intent
and detail emerge with time and repeated
listens. The piece ends with what seems to be
a creak as an old door closes and silence
prevails. The last number, Don’t Be Late,
melds the sounds of steel drums, multiple
vocals and layers of percussion in nimble
musical lines. Speed and dynamics are put to
the test as the melody builds and then is
scattered to the winds and is gone, just like
that fleeting scarlet macaw. Treasure this gem
and revisit it often.
We welcome any readers comments or suggestions
for other audiophile CD favorites for upcoming
Stereo Times reviews. Please contact Nelson
Brill@Stereotimes.com
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