Month In Review – June 2010

June was very rewarding if only because I managed to cover three unsigned Uruguayan artists over the course of the month: Mal Yo, Laiojan Sebastian and Lucía Ferreira. The three of them are very promising bands and solo performers, and Laiojan Sebastian in particular was the reason I began writing about unsigned artists on MusicKO. Their inclusion on the blog was long due.

The one new artist that I added to the blog was The Divine Comedy – you can read the general introduction here, and a review of “A Secret History – The Best Of The Divine Comedy” here.

The startups that I covered during June were the social network SeeJoeRock, Mixtap.in (a site that brings mixtapes back for good), and the Tony-B Machine, a great resource for those wanting to create electronic music. I also covered TasteBuds, a site that will let you find that special other based on the music that you like.

And the entrepreneurs and startup founders that I interviewed were Majid ALSarra (from Lyreach), Caroline Bottomley (from Radar Music Videos) and Tony Bouchereau (creator of The Tony-B Machine)

Lastly, make sure to check out the most visited post of the whole month: Steve Moore, the mad drummer!

Laiojan Sebastian (Uruguayan Independent Artist)

Laiojan Sebastian Were Andrés Pardo Di Nardo, Alejandro Reyes, Andrés Puppo & Ismael Pardo Di Nardo

Laiojan Sebastian Were Andrés Pardo Di Nardo, Alejandro Reyes, Andrés Puppo & Ismael Pardo Di Nardo

Laiojan Sebastian was the band that made me decide to cover Uruguayan unsigned artists on MusicKO. I learned of their existence in late 2009. I had recently became acquainted with Ismael Pardo Di Nardo, the drummer and percussionist of the band. His older brother Andrés was the lead singer and sole composer of the songs the band (a very representative exponent of River Plate rock) was to record for a self-titled debut that was sadly never to be released. I recall the impression that the CD caused on me when Ismael played the first song (“Despierta”) [Wake Up] over his speakers – it was a truly alive piece of music. It felt as if the message of the lyrics had been deprived of its mobility by the indifference that befell the whole album, but its ability to move others remained unscathed. I wouldn’t say that I become an awakened one that day. But I felt less dormant for certain.

Of course, that the disc hit me so hard when I first listened to it was no coincidence – not when I learned that the bass player and the lead guitarist were Andrés Puppo and Alejandro Reyes, two professional musicians that had been part of the local scene for some time now.

Another thing that caught my immediate fancy was the cover art. Andrés had designed it, and a well-known Argentinean comic artist put his thumb into motion to bring the nominal character to life. The manga influence was palpable by a mile, and the Iojan Sebastian that we can see pictured there seemed the closest to a living paradox to me, with a mien that expressed as many emotions as the ones it counter-expressed. I could imagine him saying “It is all in vain. Nothing means anything except everything. And you can get everything in life except nothing. But” – he would continue with a grin – “there is always a way to get anything.”

And if “Despierta” was a song that told of latent possibilities, the remaining songs were to deal with their realization. One of the clearest examples was to be “Jhonny Balón”, a fairy story about a child soccer prodigy that dies during a match only to resurrect and score at the last minute as his team reaches the final many years later. The song offers up a raving mixture of funky passages  with murga drumming (conveying the tragedy of the protagonist’s death) and in the last section (the match) Andrés emulates a commentator over real ambience noise. Continue reading