El Guincho Alegranza by: Al Cottrill Sat:15-Mar-08 Label: Discoteca Oceano Year: 2008 WB rating 75 out of 100

The surrounding press; that familiar blog hum; the quixotic subject line on the email allocating this album review; every one makes reference to Noah Lennox’s solo offering in a ceaseless stream of affirmation. It’s not that far off the mark, for if asked to describe what El Guincho sounded like, you may find yourself burdened with the exact same phrase. It is not undeserved, for Alegranza does have much going for it, and in a similar vein. Blending tropicalia, calypso, afrobeat and dub with a modern indie sensibility, El Guincho has built an album referencing the cultural milieu of his Canary Island homeland, his Catalan residence and modern indie stars.

For those interested in the Cliffs Notes, El Guincho is Pablo Díaz-Reixa, a Barcelonan from the Canary Islands (Guincho is a place there), and his first offering, Alegranza, is one of those zeitgeist types. The blogs are buzzing again (no surprise, given the cachet ‘world’ music currently carries) and this a far more committed take on the updating of afro-beat than Vampire Weekend. But where their update was via Graceland, Alegranza goes straight to the source of Nigerian highlife, blues and afro-beat funk. While ‘Spanish Panda Bear’ is apt if prescribed as a broad definition, El Guincho clearly offers much more than this.

Opening with the powerful swell of ‘Palmitos Park’, El Guincho starts strong. This track in particular is a masterful update of world music, taking a breakbeat/afro-beat rhythm and samba shadow and superposing it with a crowd’s joyful cries, gentle backing chants and a hypnotic, hyperactive Spanish vocal riff. It is only an example of what El Guincho does, but an excellent declaration of intent. Driven by his Roland SP-404 sampler, which is responsible for the AC/PB filter through which these sounds shine, El Guincho succeeds in applying modern indie sensibilities to diasporatic ‘world’ music in a far more authentic manner than the aforementioned Vampire Weekend.

Rooted in modern production, samples are looped and warped, imparting woozy psychedelia and drenching Alegranza in sunshine. There is a lot of fun here ‘Antillas’ is a less dynamic take on the opener’s convention, while ‘Fata Morgana’ is Animal Collective, in particular the speech samples and blissed-out spacey vocals, only enhanced by the swamping wash of sound and jittery beats. It is hard to write in these parallels, as Alegranza is both modern and historic in its influence, in much the same way as Panda Bear drew on the past to create something for the future. And here is a broad spectrum of touchstones referenced, each seamlessly combined into a dense canvas.

Not surprisingly, those styles called in this rich seam are also those that grew from many of the trade routes passing through the Canary Islands, its spiderweb of cultural and racial influences an obvious grounding point. From the undeniable afro-beat to shades of bossa nova samba, tropicalismo, calypso and Trinidadian steelpan, it is almost possible to see the ocean routes that led here. While the Canary Islands obviously ceased to act as a major trade route some time ago, the cultural complexity of invasion, occupation and trade it bestowed is an obvious influence on El Guincho’s sound, and one which the modern Catalan music scene has seen blossom into a conception with both massive breadth and exact current relevance. As I have said before, Animal Collective will be an archetype for much that comes in the near future, and El Guincho is one of the first where similarities are obvious.

With a great opening, Alegranza does falter in its descent. After the tempering effect of ‘Kalise’s mindless repetition (see Os Mutantes ‘Bat Macumba’ for a much better take on this tropicalismo), ‘Cuanda Maravilla Fui’ and ‘Buenos Matrimonios Ahi Fuera’ shine, the first a fantastic jumping vibe, the second a shimmering, schizophrenic, sample-heavy wash that engulfs a child’s song. Both are excellent, with ‘Buenos’ perhaps the album’s peak, which is fortunate, given the relative sparsity of ideas in the remaining tracks (‘Pres Lagarto’ may as well be ‘Kalise Reprise’).

In fact, the only thing checking Alegranza’s achievement of a similar level to its comparisons is a slight lack of ideas, or inspiration in their execution, relying too heavily on the repetition of a single chant or riff. While sometimes this is to particular effect, such as the burgeoning claustrophobia the slight increases in speed bestow ‘Kalise’, when present on every song, the album’s opportunities are limited. Listen to it too often and you may be prone to get dizzy. It is only this execution that tempers the album, with a little more melody, and a little less looping repetition, it could have been seriously good.

‘Costa Paraíso’ is another restrained example, its rattling percussion and marimba exciting, but a lack of melody leaving it otherwise wanting. The true oddball of the album is ‘Polca Mazurka’, El Guincho’s take on continental folk dance (the mazurka has previously been adapted by both South/Central Americans, and in the nearby Cape Verde). It is an interesting take on seemingly disparate styles, with the repetition here actually a perfect fit for its folk-dance nature, but does not demand attention as do previous tracks.

While the Panda Bear comparisons may provide an aesthetic framework within which El Guincho operates, Alegranza obviously covers a far broader breadth, encompassing much of the ‘world music’ that has seen crossover success. From the Afro-beat of Fela Kuti, Tropicalia of Gilberto Gil and Bossa Nova of João Gilberto, you can derive the sound of Alegranza. A beautiful, if clashing, concept in theory, making this work on the other hand is another thing. And El Guincho goes very close: it is an album – sunny, woozy, lively, et al adverbs – that is perfect in its reasoning. While falling slightly short in execution, ultimately it is a success that sounds like the beginning of something. As summer spirals out, it is a perfect fit.