Portico Quartet 'Portico Quartet'. 9/10. Originally published here. Shortened version in March 2012 DIY Mag.
Grand statements re how Portico Quartet are indubitably the success-bound new faces of jazz are ostensibly bandied about non-stop whenever they release a new album. Sure, they’ve come a long way: gone are the years and months spent busking outside the National Theatre; auspicious debut 'Knee-Deep In The North Sea' was nominated for a Mercury. But the crits’ predictions have never really foretold the truth: follow-up 'Isla' passed most of us by and the band has never truly broken down the barrier between jazz and pop. No one really ‘got’ mesmeric post-jazz.
But fast forward to now and the eponymous 'Portico Quartet' may have just flouted all that. For what we have here is an album which grabs the zeitgeist but still stays true to its roots: callipygously shuffling, painlessly seguing, mingling the darkest rags ‘n’ bones of dubstep, d ‘n’b and off-kilter jazz, all the while interweaving heck loads of new-found textures and electronics. It’s a forward-thinking game-change which feels rich, warm and – quite simply – astounding.
Fleeting opener ‘Window Seat’ is ambient but not exactly easy on the ear – creaking strings and spectral synths give way to clattering layers of fuzz. It’s spooky and cinematic like a curt Phillip Glass piece but as if its creator was brought up in a world teeming with Oneohtrix Point Nevers and Laurel Halos. Single ‘Ruins’, meanwhile, led by their trademark use of reverberating double bass and hang (the latter a 21st century Swiss-developed tuned steel drum-ish instrument), brings in a Jamie XX beat before a celestial tenor sax line soars high up above. Everything is beaten into a glorious pulp as the tune then climaxes in peals of Colin Stetson-worthy sax squeals.
And there is no subsequent chaff. Every track on this record is a standout, be it the booming bass swings and arpeggiating synths of ‘Spinner’, the 9-minute nuclear cacophony ‘Rubidium’, the croaky, morose narratives of guest vocalist Cornelia on ‘Steepless’ (“at the end of times…”, she ruefully repeats) or the wonky grooves of ‘City Of Glass’. In short – this record is a playful, daring and capricious listen, and one of the first truly remarkable records of 2012.
Rodrigo Y Gabriela 'Area 52'. 8/10. Originally published here.
Rodrigo Sanchez and Gabriela Quintero’s intricate, high-strung pageantries are never anything but exhilarating and extravagant, but this record is just absurd. Their unique busk-bred fusion of metal, jazz and flamenco has thus far sold them 1 million albums worldwide, but now, on this dive into the unknown, they’re backed by a youthful 13-piece Cuban orchestra (C.U.B.A) and bassist Carles Benavent (Miles Davis, Paco de Lucia). Having reworked and rearranged nine songs from their back catalogue at Abdala Studios in Havana’s Miramar District, their primal, formulaic guitar noodling has now been beefed up with a glorious, unrelenting mish-mash of horns, flutes and percussion. They’ve also brought in the cream of the world music cosmos to join them: sitarist extraordinaire Anoushka Shankar and Palestinian oud players Le Trio Jourban. The outcome? 'Area 52' is hands down the duo’s most grandiose, outlandish opus yet.
Their self-titled crossover was a bouncy, mellifluous two-guitar gem and follow-up '11:11' was more of the same. But that was where the trouble lay: were you as bored as I was? 'Area 52' – although simply collected re-imaginings of the old tunes – is a breath of fresh air and a bona fide LP par excellence. It’s the follow-up to 'La Revancha Del Tango' the Gotan Project never made, the voguish wah-wah-filled record Santana will never, ever make. Whether we’re talking the interminably insidious ‘Diablo Rojo’, ‘Juan Loco’, and ‘Tamacun’ from the eponymous record, now sped up, horned up Ronson-style and galvanised with whimsical piccolo solos, or the later ‘Santo Domingo’ and ‘Hanuman’ in which a gazillion different things ostensibly happen at once, it’s impossible to pick out individual standouts. Further – Shankar’s extended sitar solo on ‘Ixtapa’ is a peculiar yet entrancing addition, whilst jazzy number ‘Logos’ is a lot prettier than its previous embodiment. My advice: bang this record on, pretend you’re in a Havana-set spy film for a bit and then get bopping like madman.
