East Indian singer Sheila Chandra was a pop phenomenon before the term "world music" as even invented. At 16, as a member of the group Monsoon, the English-born performer had a Top 10 hit with "Ever So Lonely," a clever synthesis of Indian melody over a Western dance beat. And in 1982, when she sang the song on Britain's Top of the Pops TV show, Chandra wore a sari, the traditional dress of Indian women. Today, although she's only 26, Chandra finds herself the veteran in a growing field of Asian artists--one whose influence is increasingly being felt in the mainstream. In fact, East Indian culture is a cornerstone of this year's WOMAD festival at Toronto's Harbourfront. And Chandra...
Gordon Lightfoot Book, Music and More!
Tyson recently celebrated her 83rd birthday with this release, which she calls her final album. The folk legend ends her career on a high note, with a dozen songs that convey the wisdom of her years. “Leaves in the Storm” is an evocative love story set in post-war Berlin, with two lovers “too old to be innocent, too young to be wise.” The fiddle-fueled “Long Chain of Love” is a touching matriarchal family saga about the chains that bind. And the rollicking “Now Tell Me That You’ve Got the Blues” proves that Tyson, retiring or not, is a mama who can still barrelhouse with the best of them.
There’s nothing twiddly dee about the Irish music performed by Lankum. Yes, there are fiddles and uileann pipes. But the Dublin-based group—Radie Peat, Cormac MacDiarmada and brothers Ian and Daragh Lynch—favour darker, more subversive Celtic sounds, opting for traditional murder ballads along with original tales about modern-day horrors. Like a bleaker Pogues, Lankum revel in gothic intensity on “Go Dig My Grave” and “The New York Trader.” But there’s also beauty amid the darkness, especially on “Newcastle” and the delicate “Clear Away in the Morning.” Mixing ambient textures with eerie drones, Lankum cooks up an intoxicating brew.
Her previous albums were Afrofuturist concepts in which Monae adopted characters like parts in a movie. The actress-singer’s fourth album is admirably more autobiographical, with the non-binary artist opting for an unabashed exploration of hedonistic delights. “Lipstick Lover” uses summery reggae to express playful queer sex, while “Only Have Eyes 42” co-opts a doo-wop classic for an ode to polyamorous relationships. With eclectic guests that include Grace Jones, Sister Nancy and Seun Kuti & Egypt 80, the album keeps things moving, rhythmically adventurous and ultimately fun. It’s a party record with a purpose: finding joy through sexual pleasure—in all its many forms.
Diawara is a trailblazer—Mali’s first female solo electric guitar player and a gifted artist who bridges Wassoulou traditions with western musical influences. Her latest solo album is easily her best, a collaboration with Blur/Gorillaz frontman Damon Albarn, who plays synths and co-wrote six of the 14 tracks. Other guests include soul singer Angie Stone, Cuban pianist Roberto Fonseca, Ghanaian rapper M.anifest and Nigerian Afropop stat Yemi Alade. But this is Diawara’s party and her soaring voice and bold guitar are commanding throughout, especially on the electro dub of “Dambe,” the bluesy “Netara” and the stirring “Sete,” with backing from the Brooklyn Youth Chorus.