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Tag: Los Crema Paraiso review

A Long, Strange, Psychedelic New York Week, Part Two

In two parts – part one is here

After seeing Cameroonian singer Blick Bassy‘s unexpectedly psychedelic New York debut at Lincoln Center Thursday night, it was fun to wind up the evening at Barbes with a whole set by cinematic Venezuelan-American psychedelic instrumental trio Los Crema Paraiso. After taking their time loading their loop pedals, they played most of their newest album, De Pelicula to projections of segments from 1970s Venezuelan films: a road movie, a comedy and maybe a documentary or two.

When they do their all-instrumental version of Pink Floyd’s Shine on You Crazy Diamond, they usually play the whole monstrosity – this time the crowd got just the short version. Bittersweetly summery highway themes, frenetic volleys of tremolo-picking from guitarist José Luis Pardo, slinky and emphatic basslines from Bam Bam Rodriguez and the shapeshifting rhythms of drummer Neil Ochoa were mostly live, although both Pardo and Rodriguez’s pedals kicked in with some simple harmony lines or hazy textures from time to time, as their bouncy chamame rock themes unwound. At the end, they played their cover of Tears for Fears’ Everybody Wants to Rule the World, and finally, after having sufffered through that atrocity more than once before, it made sense – as theme music for a montage of banana republic dictators and their crimes. In this band’s hands, it became a horrible song about horrible people.

Saturday afternoon, it was even more annoying to miss almost all of psychedelic latin soul stars Chicano Batman’s set at Central Park Summerstage. The same thing happened with Roy Ayers’ set on Sunday  too. Both acts ended up going on an hour ahead of schedule, and a lot of people who showed up were disappointed. Five minutes of Bardo Martinez’s magic-carpet organ textures against Carlos Arévalo’s similarly kaleidoscopic guitar were tantalizing to the point of being painful.

And while it’s impossible to hate on Los Pericos – the Argentine ska-reggae crew has been around for thirty years and sound better now than their records from the 80s – it was also impossible to get out of sulk mode for them. Their tunes are catchy, their choruses go to more interesting places than most current roots reggae acts do, and just when it seemed they were about to get bogged down in a vampy, simplistic rut, they finally hit a grey-sky, Steel Pulse-ish minor-key groove. But all that was no substitute for the group originally schedued to headline this bill.

Back at home base Barbes on Saturday night, singer Chi-Chi Glass provided solace in the form of an unselfconsciously psychedelic solo set that she opened with a segment from an Albeniz piano suite. From there she built a synth-and-cajon suite of her own based on a Peruvian folk theme, sang a revolutionary folk tune in Quecha and finally encored with a haunting setting of a Maya Angelou poem, part noir cha-cha, part classical tone poem, part eerie art-rock.

A Long, Strange, Psychedelic New York Week

In two parts

It’s been a psychedelic week. Any week can be psychedelic if you’re in the right frame of mind, it’s just that this one had music to match the surrealism of the dream state that’s been a daily reality for Americans since the election. Over the past several days, the former’s made it a lot easier to get through the latter.

Blick Bassy’s latest album is spare and pensive, offering no hint of how trippy and magnetic his live show would be. Introducing the Cameroonian singer in his New York debut at Lincoln Center Thursday evening, impresario Jordana Phokompe was clearly stoked to have finally booked him here after seeing him play at Womex a couple of years ago. It was worth the wait.

Colorfully and loosely garbed, red goggle shades perched on his head (he never put them on), he was a much more forceful and magnetic presence than his rather gentle and austere recent work would indicate. And the performance was infinitely more psychedelic. That Bassy would sing in his native vernacular – one of more than 250 languages, many of them endangered, spoken in his country – added to the enigmatic ambience. Yet emotional content, at least at opposite ends of the emotional spectrum, were distinct, especially in a wrenching lament, and the long mini-suite of love songs that ended the show, his cat-ate-the-canary croon a dead giveaway.

For most of the set, he played banjo, fingerpicking it judiciously rather than frailing the strings bluegrass-style. Toward the end, he picked up what looked like a child’s model Telecaster  and fingerpicked intricate, rippling, kora-like upper-register phrases in a spiny, open tuning

That his trio would have such unorthodox instrumentation, let alone that trombonist Johan Blanc and cellist Clément Petit would put on such a wall-bending display of extended technique, raised the surrealism factor several notches. Blanc was in charge of atmospherics with his low, looming phrases, often playing through a loop pedal or switching to a mini-keyboard and mixer. At one point, he ran Bassy’s vocals through the keyboard and built a harmony line with them as he sang. Of course, Blanc could simply have sung that harmony part himself, but the strange effect would have been lost

Petit is Bassy’s not-so-secret weapon. There were a few places where he held down somber, ambered sustained notes, or threw off a jaunty glissando or two, but mostly he plucked out basslines. As intricate as they grew, Petit never got too busy, often fattening the sound via an octave pedal which sent his cello down low into a rabbit hole where cellos usually can’t go. And he didn’t limit his lines to blues or rock. Like the bandleader, he spiraled through some kora-like phrases, and for a second even evoked the otherworldly bounce of Moroccan gnawa trance music.

Bassy is a diehard fan of plaintive, intense American blues iconoclast Skip James, so it was no surprise that the highlight of the show turned out to be after some amusing stage shtick, where Bassy looped a couple of bars from an old James record and then played variations that took the song straight back to its African roots.

The next show at the atrium space at Lincoln Center is this Thursday, July 20 at 7:30 PM with a relevance much closer to home: Brooklyn-based, Gil Scott-Heron influenced Brooklyn hip-hop duo Quincy Vidal. The show is free, so getting to the space on time is crucial. 

After the Blick Bassy show, it was great fun to catch a whole set by cinematic psychedelic trio Los Crema Paraiso across the river. You can find out what happened in part two, here. 

The South American Music Festival Winds Up Booking Agent Weekend on a High Note

For ambitious concertgoers with the stamina to stand for hours through band after band, the dozens of shows programmed around the annual January booking agents’ convention can be a real bargain. Aside from the handful of free concerts, Monday’s South American Music Festival showcase at Drom was among this year’s best, starting out a raptly low-key note and quickly growing into a big fiesta.

You might not expect a percussion-and-vocal duo to play lullabies, but that’s essentially what singer Sofía Tosello and innovative percussionist Franco Pinna’s hypnotic new folk-trance duo Chuño did to get the night started. In addition to his usual battery of south-of-the-border objects, Pinna played his new invention, the arpa legüera, a sort of cross between a hammered dulcimer and an Argentine harp. The sound was closer to the former than the latter, adding mutedly twinkling ambience under Tesello’s dynamically-charged vocals as she ranged from gentle and unadorned to more dramatic intensity where she aired out the lower-register power that distinguishes her work in latin jazz and tango. Guitarist Juancho Herrera – who is a real beast, and was vastly underutilized here – delivered a single, tantalizingly uneasy, punchy original number out in front of the band. Likewise, genre-defying singer Sofia Rei led the group through a coyly chirpy, polyrhythmic mashup of subequatorial jazz and John Zorn-ish indie classical, drawing on her background as a member of Zorn’s all-female a-capella quartet Mycale.

Electroacoustic avant garde singer Ximena was next on the bill, followed by irrepressible percussionist Cyro Baptista’s Banquet of the Spirits. For those unfamiliar with the latter’s celebratory sound, the blog most recently caught his act at last year’s Bang on a Can Marathon, leading a smaller group. What’s cool about these multi-act bills is that if there’s a lull in the action, or a band you’ve already checked off your bucket list, you can always go run errands. Who says multitasking is only something you do online? When you run a busy blog, sometimes that’s your only option.

Hints of an iconic art-rock epic wafted from guitarist José Luis Pardo’s loop pedal as his three-piece tropical psychedelic supergroup Los Crema Paraiso – with five-string bassist Bam Bam Rodriguez and Neil Ochoa, late of Chicha Libre, on drums – took the stage. This blog caught them most recently at Barbes, where they went on half an hour late since Pardo was busy loading that pedal with some of the overdubs from Pink Floyd’s Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Part 1 – and then they played the whole thing, pretty much note for note. Getting to hear that this past August from the best spot in the house – the next-to-last seat at the bar, right under the air conditioning duct – was an awful lot of fun. Were they going to do that again here? Well, sort of. Rather than recreate an art-rock classic, Pardo stuck to playing the melody lines, using his wah to max out the psychedelic factor, Ochoa propelling the music with a lighter, more incisive touch than Nick Mason’s thud on the original. And they did cut it a little short.

From there, they picked up the pace, playing along to snippets of Venezuelan films from the past several decades, bringing a new dimension to several numbers from the band’s latest album De Pelicula and Pardo’s ongoing project of writing new theme music for his favorite old movies. Pardo blazed through furious volleys of crime-theme tremolo-picking juxtaposed with lingering, summery washes as the rhythm section took a comfortable Pacific coastal route. From there they mashed up galloping Pink Floyd psychedelia with bouncy Mexican themes, blistering 70s art-rock with Venezuelan stoner-folk riffage and balmy motorik interludes. You wouldn’t probably consider anything motorik to be the least bit balmy, but this band made it happen. And it’s a miracle that Pardo didn’t break any strings: the guy really punishes them, and on the coldest night of the year so far, he was drenched in sweat.

The Gregorio Uribe Big Band closed the evening with their high-voltage, original blend of just about every large-ensemble sound in the Western Hemisphere. Uribe distinguishes himself as a rare accordionist-bandleader and composer of intricately fascinating big band jazz equally informed by salsa, various latin folk styles and swing. In a way he’s sort of the Carl Nielsen of tropical music – and a hell of a crooner as well. The dancefloor filled in a second as he led the big sixteen-piece vehicle into a slinky cumbia, which they scampered out of at doublespeed. Unsurprisingly, the band’s biggest hit of the evening was another cumbia, Uribe really getting the dancers twirling when he hit an oldschool two-chord vamp on his accordion. Otherwise, he sent a lickety-split, punchy shout-out to his native Colombia as the band swelled and blazed behind him, then swirled and dipped through a couple of fiery salsa dance numbers.

It was a lot of fun to watch alto saxophonist Sharel Cassity think on her feet, judiciously weaving a lattice of post-Coltrane riffage out of a simple Afro-Cuban theme. Likewise, baritone saxophonist Roberto Bustamante contributed a couple of smoldering solos, as did trombonist Matt McDonald and trumpeter Sam Hoyt, among other group members. The audience screamed for an otra after the group had swung through a lively Caribbean cha-cha and band intros were done, and Uribe rewarded them with a final cumbia harking back to the glory days when Bogota bandleaders like Lucho Bermudez took coastal gangster rhythms and bulked them up for cosmopolitan dancefloor crowds. Uribe’s big band return to their regular home turf, Zinc Bar, at 9 PM on February 5.