Return to Gondwana / Andrés Levín
When in an interview with Magazine AM:PM, Andres Levin said that New York is the most Caribbean city in the world, I could not avoid that rare beginner's bewilderment in our hemisphere of culture. Now I can see the reason in that phrase; proven with years of experimentation and artistic maturity. Since Madonna with The beautiful island even Camila Cabello recording Havana in the New York subway, the city has served as a platform for fans of the Caribbean. Levín, who has been involved in the production of musicals such as In the Hights and Guava Island -where we enjoyed Rihanna and Donald Glover (Childish Gambino)- brings more freshness to this terrible summer. Return to Gondwana is, as he explains, "a musical exploration of our Caribbean, Latin and African roots and commonalities. Gondwana was a supercontinent 600 million [years] ago, encompassing Africa, the Caribbean and the Americas".
The album begins as a duel of cowboys of classic Hollywood. Work All Dayfeaturing Lisa Fischer, Telmary Diaz, Meshell Ndegeocello, and Sly Dunbar, is the aridity of American "tales of the earth" made music. The formula quickly drifts into a reggae where the tight coros follow the order of the trumpets. Towards the middle, the track speeds up and opens the way for Telmary, who narrates the toil of the Latin neighborhoods and their women: "que me la paso trabajando, batallando. I work, work and more work and the black woman is tired". She closes with an energetic representation of the tradition of urban fusion music.
Manteca 2.0 (An homage to Chano Pozo, Dizzy Gillespie & Cayo Hueso) is an eclipsing meeting of the international Cuban scene: Levin with Yerba Buena, Los Van Van, Alain Pérez, Pedrito Martínez, Yissy García, ¡Gonzalo Rubalcaba!, Ron Blake and Rashaw Ross. The original song is one of the Afro-Cuban jazz standards, composed by Dizzy Gillespie, Chano Pozo and Walter Gill Fuller in 1947. This euphoria of bongo and trumpets is as catchy as a good Broadway musical; you think of the best moments from West Side Story -which pitted two New York gangs against each other in a timeless musical delirium. Levín definitely manages to blend the flavors of the two Americas.
The world reflected in Who takes care of me and faith in a new dawn seem to be the thesis of this project. The philosophy of positivism and the seasoning of the groove Latin America is possible due to several renowned artists and others not so well known, who provide an admirable service. On this occasion, Levín worked with Melanie SantilerBetomonte (from Rawayana) and Ceci Bastida. The feeling of salvation is gracefully traversed -like the sacred heart of Jesus- by a rumba full of cubanness. The artist sees a possible future in the union of music and community. This is exactly what he has wanted to achieve with Tribe Caribe in recent years.
Andrés Levín has continued experimenting, dialoguing with internal cultures of the continent. Thus we can witness the active trumpet in We're Caribea mix of jazz fussion and Afro-Cuban jazz, native languages of our lands and energetic percussion. Together with Beenie Man, Goyo, Kyoka, Abrante, Franco (El Gorila), Osain del Monte, Ron Blake and Les nubians, he builds a sharp framework based on roots and contemporary sound.
If there is a reason not to doubt the versatility of a producer like Levín, there it is. The Man With the Hat and the Tan (ManHatTan)where he brings together Grammy winner Jon Batiste with Pedrito Martínez, Alain Pérez and Daymé Arocena. Listening to Batiste -who recently returned to acclaim for his collaboration with Lana Del Rey- at the piano, even lending his voice, is a delight. The way the story is told through different voices, that narrative sense of "point of view" resonates with the listener, who enjoys it without reluctance.
Furrucowith Melanie Santiler, st. Pedro and José Luis cheo Pardo is a lyrical battle against ostracism, against the fear of being banished in one's own body: "If we are taught as children that dancing cures pain, why do I keep dancing and look for more problems? At this point, Levín resorts to more abstract sonorities, with the use of the electric guitar, and enters a more visceral and complex terrain. The not-so-fragile vulnerability of the vocalists questions how movement, which is a human right, can become a source of conflict.
The Brazilians, with their paradigmatic samba, must have it better known. City Of Multiplicity opens with a monologue in Portuguese that resembles the almost cinematographic opening in SPAGHETTIIfrom the recent album Cowboy Carter by Beyoncé, which similarly speaks to musical genres and America as "ideal," drawing an analogy between the two "social constructs." Along with Kassin, Alexia Bomtempo, Ana Torroja and Donny McCaslin, Levin creates a crushing ovation to the legacy of musicals, perhaps gleaned from his New York upbringing.
Turn up the volume of Light The CandleYou will hear, in the first minute, the fiery waves of a reggaeton, and you will hear, in the first minute, the burning waves of a reggaeton. jazzman. Co-writing with El Gran Silencio, Aterciopelados and the Instituto Mexicano del Sonido, he plays a rushing crescendo The band comes in pounding the bass drum pedal, syncopates animatedly on the snare, rolls the timbales and explodes through the cymbals. The album closes, finally, with an appeasing prayer to African-American culture, which is. Pataki Pa' Ti by Natalia Bolívar and Yaroldy Abreu.
Andrés Levín is a collagist postmodern and a chronic cataloguer of his references, bringing back songs from his earlier repertoire. He reinterprets, even intentionally, the work of others, filtering its meaning through a personal lens. Beyond a simple remakeshows us the artist who traces his own evolution and also presents his own, ready to be reimagined, to enter the great songbook of Gondwana from which he so easily feeds back.
*Listen to the complete album here.
