La Corporación (Erika Chuwoki) – Uruguayan Independent Artist

OK, I know I’m giving myself away big time here and tarnishing what little reputability I had to begin with, but… can you guess which album I have heavily rotated every day at my office for the past two months or so? Badly Drawn Boy’s turgid “Born In The UK”.

Don’t get me wrong – I admire the guy so much that if there were a Badly Drawn Boy plush toy it would be right there in my pillow every night. And if it came with interchangeable wool hats, then I would be the happier for it (jeez… talk about tarnishing one’s reputation! How far will this go?). But that particular CD is one of the biggest misconceptions ever since someone gave Scarlett Johansson the go-ahead for “covering” Tom Waits.

And now that I have brought the wool-hatted composer from the British Isles to mind, what I want you to imagine is what would happen if he went clubbing one night, met Syd Barrett at some mad one, and tripping out of his arse he crashed the night at Lou Reed’s. And recorded an EP before passing out. If you could indeed imagine the whole scenario, then: A) You need immediate assistance, and B) You will know what to expect from the debut EP that has been issued by this new Uruguayan artist going by the ceremonious name of Erika Chuwoki.

Erika Chuwoki

Erika Chuwoki

“La Corporación” [The Corporation] is a five-song EP. Moving within the stylistic parameters insinuated above (which the band aptly terms “pop psicobélico”), the album finely interweaves personal and collective appreciations on life, love and every single thing that goes “bump!” in the night. Yes, my little grasshoppers, that includes sex – the crash of romantic crushes is studied enthusiastically on “Amar El Mal” [To Love Evil], one of the noisiest, more memorable cuts of the whole disc.

Plus, the EP has a song named “Aguante La Puta Que Nos Parió” (an obscenity I can’t translate because merely looking for an English equivalent makes me blush and cry in my tea) – the kind of title that only Harlan Ellison’s psychopath music twin could dare use on an album cover. The phrase, incidentally, is not mentioned on the song once. As if the band were inviting a snicker in the finest rock & roll tradition, and then defying the snickerers by saying, “You morons, you judged something by the cover and not by its actual content”. Placenta, pleasure, placebo indeed… Continue reading

Free Uruguayan Music For Download – “OVNI” By Matías Singer

“Ovni” Is The New Album By Uruguayan Independent Artist Matías Singer.

“Ovni” Is The New Album By Uruguayan Independent Artist Matías Singer.

Beaming down from the stars in their silver atmospheres, we have the new album by Matías Singer (go sulk in the corner, Joe Strummer!).

The disc (named “OVNI” – the Spanish word for UFO) is mostly an acoustic affair, with some lap guitars, accordions and light percussion to keep things jingly-jangly.

It has 13 songs, the vast majority of which are in English, although a few are in Spanish and I personally like them better than the ones in English. These include the title track and “Extraterrestre” [Starling], the one true “band” recording that is offered.

And as far as the English contingent goes, I have a lot of time for “You Are A Demon”, “Until The End Of The Night” and “I Never Dance”. These are the cuts that have the brightest set of melodies. On the other hand, there is a thing called “No Evil” that almost made erase the whole thing from my HD and optimize it afterwards to ensure the monster was gone. Continue reading

Los Pazientes (Uruguayan Unsigned Artist)

Los Pazientes are Marcel Studebaker (drums, percussion, backing vocals), Diego Carusso (guitars, backing vocals), Uvit Cropa (bass, loops, samplers), Juan Zoop (vocals) and Ramón Guayomin (guitars, backing vocals).

Los Pazientes are Marcel Studebaker (drums, percussion, backing vocals), Diego Carusso (guitars, backing vocals), Uvit Cropa (bass, loops, samplers), Juan Zoop (vocals) and Ramón Guayomin (guitars, backing vocals).

To many, the end of the ‘60s was the true culmination of an era. But to others, it was just the beginning of a fight that rages to this day. The former look at Woodstock and recall Pete Townshend’s immortal words about the event, “what they [hippies] thought was a new reality was actually a field full of people covered in mud and sheep shit… if that’s the new world they want to live in, then fuck the lot of them”. The latter regard Woodstock as the triumphant day of activism bar none, as the event that could congregate people from different corners of America who where there to incarnate a message of relentless change and renewal.

Each person is free to have his own interpretation of what happened that day, and the true significance it had. Personally, when I look at the events that took place right after Woodstock (including Altamont, the Manson murders and the seismic punk revolution at the tail end of the ‘70s) I am inclined to look at explicit calls to action with eyes that are not so eager. Someone once said that the only answers that have any value in life are the ones we arrive at ourselves. I think the same applies to any philosophy, or course of action. The ones that can take us to a positive conclusion are the ones we elaborate ourselves. And I don’t know if you remember the song “Follow The Cops Back Home” by Placebo, but I hope you do because it has a phrase that summarizes what I wrote above, and that lets me introduce you to the Uruguayan unsigned artist I want to cover today.

During its flourish, “Follow The Cops Back Home” has a verse that goes:

The call to arms was never true
I’m medicated, how are you?

That verse cannoned into my head when I discovered the music of Los Pazientes [The Patients]. There was something incredibly accurate about those words, and how they connected the band’s moniker with its intent of purpose.

To quote Los Pazientes [English text below]:

“Los Pazientes fueron concebidos principalmente como respuesta a la necesidad de generar un espacio de distribución y exhibición de un mensaje propio, que se compromete con la búsqueda de buenos espíritus, la lucha de algunos pueblos y de la guerra en contra del amor. A través de la música, (muchas veces el rocanrol) Los Pazientes, proponen incentivar y proteger en cualquier circunstancia ese mensaje, mediante la colaboración, organización y cooperación de diferentes artistas.”

[The Patients were primarily conceived as an answer to the need for a space in which to distribute and spotlight a message of its own, pledged to find good spirits, the fight of some nations and the war against love. Through music (often rock ‘n’ roll) The Patients aim to encourage and protect this message at all times, by making the collaboration and cooperation among different artists possible.]

There you go. As far as calls for action go, this is imbued by as much directness as temperance. It is something very representative of what the band is about, both musically and lyrically. There are echoes of liberation throughout its music (such as in the song “Rojo Y Negro” [Red and Black]), but what I read in the vast majority of cases is a call for individual action, with full awareness of the consequences that one’s decisions will have on a larger scale. It is the kind of subtle difference that has a substantial weight in the end. It is the one lesson that I feel we should learn from the idealism that music knew in the ‘60s, and the violent ramifications that such an idealism gave way to as the ‘70s became more and more divided, and some flags were waved and others burned indistinctly.

And in the end, the conquest of love is the biggest concern in these stories of arsonists in basements that realize they have new things to say and new horizons to strike for, of characters who tell storms about their own inner storms, as drums catch fire and music that lasts longer than one’s own blindness and limitations fills the surges of the air.

“Quiero escuchar el último latido en el hondo amanecer sin vos” [“I want to listen to the final heartbeat in the deep dawn without you”]. These lines close “El InZenDiario” [The Arsonist]. It is up to the listener to imagine how the day following that dawn will shape itself. Whether things will be ideal or real. Whether there is time enough to change oneself and his own preconceptions when it comes to what he wants to do and how that relates to what ought to be responsibly done.

So… I’m medicated, how are you?

I guess it doesn’t matter.

We’ll take a dive, swim right through.

There’s no stopping until the other side has been reached.

This is the band’s MySpace profile.

Despertando Del Silencio (El Umbral) – Uruguayan Independent Artist

The First Lineup Of El Umbral: Juan Loskin, Alejandro Nuñez & Javier Pedrazzi.

The First Lineup Of El Umbral: Juan Loskin, Alejandro Nuñez & Javier Pedrazzi.

Elvis Costello was right.

From the other end of the telescope, things can be seen.

Every Uruguayan echo boomer grew up watching bands on his flat top that he was resigned never to feel in the flesh. REM, U2, Nirvana, Guns ‘n’ Roses… he always knew such bands were hardly going to set foot in his home soil. If he had the money and the wayfaring spirit (not to mention parents that were either the pinnacle of coolness, or that just didn’t give a shit) he knew he could cross the River Plate and go to Buenos Aires to catch up with any of those bands as they toured South America. And no, nobody could have imagined back then that one day an overweight Axl Rose with a small army of guitarists in tow to replace Slash would play the Estadio Centenario. Neither could anybody have imagined that they would play the theme from the Pink Panther during an intermission as the ultimate sign of respect to the enraptured audience that attended the show.

Well, that was the way things were back then. And if it sounds like a bummer, it is because it was a bummer. Yet, the silver lining was there. And it was a particularly shimmery one.

In the same way that the best orators are always the best listeners, those who spend their lives contemplating are the ones who can take action more purposefully. And if there was something we were known to do back then, it was to wear one album after the other of all those bands that for us existed only in MTV. Assimilating the notes and inhaling the sounds as only those who know they will never watch their heroes live could ever hope to do.

Many of the Uruguayan bands that in a good and in a bad sense defined the musical identity of the country came together back then, and they are still around. Both La Vela Puerca and No Te Va Gustar, for example, became active performing units as the ‘90s were gathering pace.

And as always, the story of those bands that could never achieve mainstream success is every bit as interesting as the story of those who did manage to take all the commercial barriers down.

The story of El Umbral [The Threshold] certainly is. And the fact the band is still around (and about to issue its fourth album) just gives everything that vital throb of significance that always wins people over.

"Despertando Del Silencio" Was El Umbral's Debut Album

"Despertando Del Silencio" Was El Umbral's Debut Album

El Umbral officially came together in 1999, but the true inception of the band went way back to 1996, when three friends named Juan Loskin (bass), Pablo Riera (drums) and Alejandro Nuñez (guitar) would get together and play songs by Nirvana and Uruguayan linchpins such as Los Estómagos [The Stomachs]. That lineup didn’t last long, and the drummer was soon replaced by Javier Pedrazzi. At around that time, it was decided that Alejandro was also going to assume vocal duties, and the trio settled on the name El Umbral. The year was 1999. And two years later, the band finally managed to issue its debut album. It was titled “Despertando Del Silencio” [Awakening From The Silence]. Somehow, that name said all there was to be said. And what the name did not say, the music itself made clear. Continue reading

MusicKO: Uruguayan Unsigned & Independent Artists Of 2010

I think the day I decided to begin covering Uruguayan unsigned and independent artists on MusicKO was the happiest of the whole year. It gave me a lot of direction, and a true sense of purposefulness. I have managed to become acquainted with some extraordinary musicians – individuals who are truly devoted to what they do, and who believe in the power of music to bond people for life.

These are all the unsigned and independent Uruguayan performers I featured on MusicKO in 2010.

I hope to review twice as many in 2011. If you are one (or if you know one), just drop me a line. The address is emiliomusicko@gmail.com.

Cínica
Retrocedonia
Laiojan Sebastian
Doorman
Conkistadores
Mal Yo
Lucía Ferreira
RostbiF
Soundays
El Cardenal Sebastián
Lucas Meyer

Doorman (Uruguayan Independent Artist)

Gustavo "Jack" Doorman Posing With The True Star Of The Band's Debut Album.

Gustavo "Jack" Doorman Posing With The Undisputed Star Of The Band's Debut Album.

F. Scott Fitzgerald once remarked that life is a process of small ruptures that lead to a tremendous final crackdown. Fitzgerald was one of the gigantic voices of reason in the Jazz Age, an era that many scholars simply remember as “the gaudiest spree” in American history. Like it or not, his insight will always stand in that selected place in which truths that are purely forceful in themselves are found.

What I think, however, is that it is conceivable to look at everything from a different angle. What if life were also a process in which one goes through small significant moments that let him finally discover the definitive moment he wants to be in? I am sure it is not far-fetched to think that a person can form his own perception of anything like that.

Personally, I think I can remember the first time a music performance truly moved me. It was the night Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova won the Academy Award for the song “Falling Slowly”. That was the central piece from “Once”, a musical ingrained in reality that didn’t deny the deep value of dreams for a single minute.

And what struck me really hard was not only the way they played that night, and the radiant chemistry they displayed onstage. It was the words they spoke as they were given their Oscars.

Marketa said “Fair play to those who dream”. Glen simply remarked “Make art… Make art!”.

That night, it dawned on me that if two independent musicians could take on giants like Melissa Etheridge and Disney and walk away victorious, then maybe it would also become possible for Uruguayan musicians to stand up in non-Spanish speaking markets and succeed on their own terms.

Sure, Uruguayan singer/songwriter Jorge Drexler had won an Oscar himself in 2004 for the song “Al Otro Lado Del Río” [Across The River], but it was a bittersweet moment. He was not allowed to take the stage to play the song. Antonio Banderas and Santana played it, with lots of energy but not a lot of precision. When Jorge was awarded the coveted accolade, he sang a portion of “Al Otro Lade Del Río” accapella. I couldn’t help but wonder if that did nothing but highlight how submissive he had had to be to reach that podium that night and walk away with an Oscar. It all felt a little childish, like a girl who kicks a friend in the shin while his parents are holding him, telling him off for something he had done to her.

But that night in 2007, as those two virtually unknown European musicians had left everybody at the Kodak Theater mesmerized with their interpretative skills and integrity I stood as energized as I could be. If there was ever a moment I felt a sense of true possibility materializing, then that was it. I felt (nay, I knew) Uruguayan musicians would one day be able to stand up on their own two feet, and present their art uncompromisingly to the world.

The independent artist I want to cover today has got me thinking about that, along with the best bands currently active in the Uruguayan scene such as The Bear Season and Casablancas. Doorman is an electronic outfit that takes after the name of its frontman, Gustavo “Jack” Doorman. He writes everything and sings the lead, while the remainder of the band comprises Federico Recarey (bass), Ariel Scarpitta (sequencers), Hangel (drums) and Oscar Naya and Lucas Kanopa (guitars).

The band has already issued an album (“Supermal”, produced by Daniel Anselmi) and it stands as an entrancing mixture of buoyant rhythms and lyrics that are mostly hedonistic, although there is also room for contemplation and sheer regret, as in the song “Sad Situations” (one of their most rock-oriented numbers, and a personal favorite of mine). Continue reading

Cínica Releases Its Self-Titled Debut EP

Cínica’s Debut Is A Five-Song EP You Can Download For Free On Their Site

Cínica’s Debut Is A Five-Song EP You Can Download For Free On Their Site

Cínica was the first Uruguayan unsigned artist that I featured on MusicKO, way back in April.

Well, the band has just released its self-titled (and self-funded) debut EP. It has five songs: “Panacea”, “Conciencia” (my personal favorite), “Piso Frío”, “Velo Gris” and an acoustic take on “Panacea” (which closes the disc).

You can get the whole EP for free on their website.

A great way for them to send off the year!

Congratulations!

RostbiF Releases A New EP – Listen To It Online For Free!

RostbiF (Mauricio Rode, Guido Quintela, Lukas Künzler and Pablo Gonzalez) with Andrés Gorlo.

My good friends from RostbiF have just issued a new EP. It is named “La Última Palabra” [The Last Word], and you can listen to its five songs for free here. You can also download the songs to your computer, bring them to any party you go and impress everybody with your knowledge of Uruguayan music. I don’t know if that will make you a big hit with the women at the party (let’s face, it probably won’t), but at least you will be singled out as the one with exotic tastes. That is always a good start…

This is the tracklist:

1- Derrumbe
2- Camino
3- Alice In Cocaineland
4- Paloma
5- Uniformes

This time around I wrote the lyrics to the song “Uniformes” [Uniforms] – I based it on a draft guitarist/vocalist Lukas Kunzer sent me. I have wanted to pen a song with that name ever since I listened to Ken Stringfellow’s song by the same name. And the Birdman has got a (terrific) song that is named like that, too. It is featured on the album “All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes”. Continue reading

Conkistadores (Uruguayan Unsigned Artist)

Conkistadores Are Gabriel Laborde, Angelo Galeazzi, Darwing Pato Cabana, Jonathan Garcia and Juan Lujambio.

Conkistadores Are Gabriel Laborde, Angelo Galeazzi, Darwing Pato Cabana, Jonathan Garcia and Juan Lujambio.

Hailing from the City of Maldonado, Conkistadores is a recently-formed band whose sound lies somewhere between hard rock and heavy metal. The current lineup comprises singer Gabriel “Rubio” Laborde, guitar player Angelo Galeazzi, drummer Darwing “Pato” Cabana, bassist Jonathan Garcia and keyboard player Juan Lujambio.

They all have played in bands from Maldonado before – Darwing played in “La Mole” and “Gangster”, Gabriel sang with “Minerva”, Angelo was the guitarist for “Cardíacos”… even Juan (the youngest member) is a well-known face in the local scene, having formed his first metal band when he was just 14.

The band has just finished recording its debut EP. It is bound to be released soon, and Conkistadores is playing his first gig in Montevideo on the 13th of November at La Comuna along with the bands Cimarrón and Ginebra (from Salto and Montevideo, respectively).

Musically, Conkistadores references the ‘80s in a dynamic and constant way, with bands like Iron Maiden, Warcry and Yngwie Malmsteen being just some of their clearest standard bearers. But so are Guns ‘n’ Roses, Dream Theater and the Argentinean band Rata Blanca.

You can tell the band members are not new to the game when you listen to them playing. Gabriel’s vocals are sonorous in the best sense of the word. The bass work is decidedly mellifluous, and the guitar is an effective emotional vehicle. More than often, it is hard to believe that the keyboard parts come from someone who is just 15. And Pato is playing the drums with the strength and conviction that only those who have had a close call can muster (he was involved in a near-fatal motorcycle accident not so long ago).

Conkistadores On Stage

Conkistadores On Stage

Out of the six songs that are going to be featured on their debut EP, my personal favorite is “Nadie Escuchó” [Nobody Heard]. It deals with the murder of a 10-year old girl in Maldonado (“Un demente con una estaca de Madera/dejó muda una ciudad entera”) [A madman with a wooden stake/left a whole city speechless] and it is a good example of the band’s ability to touch weighty issues without sounding preachy or overbearing.

The song also has my favorite guitar solo of the whole EP. A true sense of walled desperation is conveyed. Nobody would mistake it for Eric Clapton’s famous weeping guitar, but it is an instrument that is speaking a language capable of moving even those who have not been personally marked and marred by tragedy. Continue reading

Un Accidente Feliz (Lucas Meyer) – Uruguayan Independent Artist

  “Un Accidente Feliz” [A Happy Accident] Was Released By Esquizodelia Records In 2009.

“Un Accidente Feliz” By Lucas Meyer (2009)

It is often said (and accepted either willingly or tacitly, but accepted for good) that these works we love the most are the ones we feel we could have created ourselves. Any work of art strikes a true chord when the story that is narrated is one we feel we could have expressed ourselves, using the very same codes and nuances. It applies to books. It applies to movies. It applies to paintings. And it applies to music, the most direct art of them all. The saddest and the most uplifting conveyances are shaped there.

Still, some say that happiness doesn’t really lead to great works. And there is more than an inkling of truth to that. If anything, it explains the sheer number of albums available where the performer pours his despondency in every word and note. The fact remains that ever since singer-songwriters like Joni Mitchell began articulating personal turmoil in a context that vanished all barriers separating a performer from its public, recording albums that bristled and crackled with disillusionment has become a truly common practice.

More than a few listeners might complain there is a superabundance of such albums. But that is tantamount to saying that there is a set limit of possible answers to the questions posed by sentimental relationships. That is why these albums keep on being produced and released. Some will speak more directly to specific listeners than others. Some answers will hold truer poignancy than others.

And I have just found one that says all I’d have liked to say just a couple of years ago, when I wrote my first book, “Once”. It is by Uruguayan musician Lucas Meyer, and it has been issued by independent label Esquizodelia Records. The name of the album is “Un Accidente Feliz” [A Happy Accident], and like every other record released by the label you can download it for free.

Simply put, it is an album that deals with a romantic rupture. Yet, the corresponding rapture is never far away from the singer’s cinematic focus. It’s as if at the edge of the screen something were happening just outside of the camera’s reach. We never get to see it. But we manage to intuit it, and fill in the major gaps ourselves.

The relationship is revised in retrospect through a voice that is equally capable of expressing “La próxima vez/Voy a involucrarme un poco más/Para tener/Algo para recordar” [Next time/I’ll try to get a little more involved/So that I’ll have/Something to remember] and “Con vos/Va a ser mejor/No hablar/De amor/Va a ser mejor/Demostrártelo” [With you/It’ll be preferable/Not to talk/About love/It’ll be better/Just to show it].

And songs like “Estrella Muerta” [Dead Star] and “Palabras De Desprecio” [Words Of Contempt] deal with the incendiary feelings of dismissal that go with any separation. There’s just no way to “Encontrar La Explicación” [Find The Explanation]. But that’s never a deterrent when the damage has already been done.

On a personal note, I really appreciate the album’s economy. It is obvious that Lucas had enough songs to fill 4 discs if he wanted. He decided to keep everything concise. More than a couple of songs clock at little more than one minute. When reviewing Mateo Moreno’s debut a couple of months ago I found myself remarking that less is often more. “Un Accidente Feliz” is a good example of that. Continue reading