Saturday, February 11, 2023

Louis Siciliano


Rather than plying us with the typical flair that has become all too common among his scene and those attempting to penetrate it, Louis Siciliano is intent on giving us something a little more intimate in his new EP Ancient Cosmic Truth, and it all starts with his use of dueling melodic components, sax included, in “Bambara’s Symmetries.” Although it would have been simple to influence the rhythm with cadence, his beats ride the groove like an angelic entity atop a cloud, the instrumental center ascending towards the heavens rather casually rather than with any sort of force. This is most definitely a clandestine style of romantic songcraft, and it’s popping off in this EP like few critics could have predicted.   


The avant-garde and worldbeat influence in Ancient Cosmic Truth is undeniable, especially in “Translucent Dodecahedron” and the supple title track, but it never translates as coming from a place of arrogance. On the contrary, his style of delivery invites us closer to the melody, as if to ask us to dance beneath the spotlight instead of merely staring at it. There’s no arguing the presence Siciliano has in these tracks, and it’s too organic to be deemed anything other than spellbinding.  




Balance is one of the key themes in Ancient Cosmic Truth, particularly in “The Secret of Mansa” and “Bambara’s Symmetries,” in which instrumentation is meant to weigh evenly rather than allowing specific elements to captivate us with surreal prowess exclusively. What grabbed me here, at least from a compositional perspective, was the unnecessary attention to intricacy Louis Siciliano pays even the bottom-end textures that support him in any given beat. He’s a natural at this medium, and if there were any critics unsure of making such a statement beforehand, they need to hear this record for themselves to understand just what a gem he is at this point in his career.   


While studio recordings can bring forth some of the most creative aspects of an artist’s profile, bringing in the right creative minds to collaborate and expound upon conceptualism is something quite different, and I think Siciliano thrives off of the setting he’s presenting his material in here. He’s not reticent about digging into a hook; instead, he’s chasing after the fever pitch like it owes him something, and providing us with the sort of structure-bound backdrop that tethers his sound to that of the many greats in jazz before him. 


There are no two ways about it - Ancient Cosmic Truth is a marvelously stunning introduction to the music of Louis Siciliano, and if you haven’t already given it a listen this winter, I highly recommend you do as much before February is over. His style is like a cool pair of shades here, and if cultivated with the mainstream in mind, I have a feeling he’s going to give us some of the more remarkable, beat-driven content to come out of the underground in a long time. Simply put, this is the jazz record you need to acquire this month.  


Joshua Beach

Friday, October 14, 2022

Elizabeth Sombart

Singing the Nocturnes is Elizabeth Sombart’s lustrous and inspired tribute to the powers of Polish pianist and composer Frederic Chopin. It also brings the 19th century giant’s work to vivid life for modern audiences not as a relic from a bygone past but, instead, as a vigorous and relevant piece of music that reflects the human condition in 360 degree fashion. It’s a bold assertion, but it’s the sort of thing that artists such as this are known for.

Elizabeth Sombart’s classical training began early. She started playing piano before her teen years and advanced with breathtaking speed as her ascent through the classical music ranks snagged several awards along the way. She won an early first prize at the National Piano and Chamber Music Awards and went on to study with several renowned classical instructors before embarking in full on her own path.

It has been music, music, music. Singing the Nocturnes serves notice of Sombart being a full-fledged artist as she inhabits each of the 21 Chopin compositions included on this release, She moves from the major and minor key exploration, the mini-suites built within the larger work, and the nearly dizzying gamut of emotions rife throughout the work with confidence and, more importantly, emotion.


These are inert and academic exercises for Sombart. They are alive, instead, with possibility and it is a fulsome credit to her genius as a musician that she imbues a sense of go-for-broke spontaneity in what are surely structured and well-established pieces. It isn’t every classical musician who can do that. There’s a sense of overall structure with the work to that makes it best to experience this album as a whole, in a single sitting.

It does allow for listeners to dive in and out, however, as they like. Sombart, however, hails from an earlier generation where works are best experienced as a coherent and unified whole. It’s unique to hear in Singing the Nocturnes that aforementioned spontaneity reflected in different ways. The verb ‘sing’ is a good choice for the album title as her playing in both the moodier and livelier pieces alike gives listeners a musical dialogue of a sort to follow. It’s a compelling conversation full of melodic highs and lows that never fails holding listener’s attention.

21 tracks may seem like a lot, as well, but Sombart’s musical treatment of the Nocturnes makes it a surprisingly breezy experience. Her playing carries listeners away with an effortless lift and she weaves what can only be described as a dream-like suspension of disbelief that we are delighted to entertain. Her graceful and personable touch never deserts her during any of these pieces. It’s the latest creative high point in a career studded with one such moment after the next and her appetite for creating seems far from sated. Elizabeth Sombart’s Singing the Nocturnes is classical music of the highest order, passionate, and fully alive rather than some cliché. Listen today and you’ll hear magic in each of these pieces. 

Joshua Beach

Monday, June 27, 2022

Hughie Mac “Sings Some Great Songs” (Part 4)

Hughie Mac’s ongoing series chronicling the history of 20th century American songwriting, Sings Some Great Songs, has hit its fourth volume with no signs of slowing down. Mac doesn’t limit his selections but, it must be said, has a definite preference for mid-20th century pop, pre-rock and roll, such as theatrical show tunes and Sinatra, among others. Any collection where Ol’ Blue Eyes can co-exist alongside Jimmy Buffett is unusual fare and Hughie Mac’ Hughie Mac Sings Some Great Songs, Vol. 4 is familiar, yet indelible.



Much of this is attributable to Mac’s voice. He doesn’t have the typical pyrotechnic marvel, a voice capable of blowing listeners out of their seats with its power, but it grabs your attention. It’s apparent from the first. His interpretation of “Almost Like Being in Love” doesn’t grab you by your figurative lapels and dominate the space but, instead, Mac’s voice approximates that giddy sensation invoked by the song with a smile and a wink. The perfectly placed musical backing supports him well.


He excels just as much with more recent material. His version of “Changes in Latitudes” never allows itself to get too exuberant, but nonetheless modulates the song’s energy with a steady hand and satisfies those familiar and new to the track. “Two Pina Coladas” receives similar treatment. Mac captures the song’s boozy gregariousness without ever lapsing into parody and times his performance well against the arrangement. It finds its mark from its first note through the last.


The next three tracks are among the most well-known selections from the mid-20th century American songbook. “My Way”, the seminal Sinatra tune that likely closed every show for the better part of three decades, gets respectful but lively treatment from Mac. He isn’t content trying to ape the original, who could, but hews close enough to the classic version in both vocal and musical spirit that any Sinatra fan will approve. His phrasing is spot on throughout.



Another aspect of Mac’s performance many will enjoy is his steadfast refusal to ham the material up. You hear this, particularly during songs such as “Come Fly with Me” which naturally lends itself to the singer making a great fuss over its lyrics, but Mac doesn’t go for that. He sings the song with zest and confidence, but he lets these great songs stand on their own. It creates an all the more pleasing contrast when set against this track’s horns.


We continue with the theme of flight. The classic “Fly Me to the Moon” gets played straight as well, incorporating excellent percussion, woodwind, and upright bass contributions. Mac’s level of comfort with this material is clear. It’s part of what makes hearing the Sings Some Great Songs series so enjoyable and, really, there’s no need for it to end here. Mac has a tight grip on picking the right material for his voice and he’s far from exhausted the possibilities of this concept. His latest entry, Hughie Mac Sings Some Great Songs, Vol. 4, is his best yet. 


Brent Musgrave

Thursday, May 5, 2022



Layering tracks together in an epic mix isn’t a new idea in rock music, but when Vuola does it in his new record Alouv, it feels like a bit of a revolution inside of five unique songs. Alouv is complicated and eccentric at times, bringing together esoteric themes with broad rock conceptualism, like in the songs “Laugh Vivid Often Adore Unity” or the more brutish “Vapaa Uljas Onnen Lapsi Aaamun,” and without its intricately mixed sound, we wouldn’t be able to appreciate just how profound a quake Vuola can issue when he’s in top studio form. 

Everything begins and ends with the guitar parts in Alouv, and this is true of “Under Above Orion Venus Loves” as much as it is the more conventional “Astra Lucia Omnia Ultra Verum,” but I hesitate to call this a work of virtuosity. There aren't a lot of technical ecstasies to get lost in here, but at the same time, Vuola is using the tonality of the strings and the overdrive to create a backdrop that piano keys, winds, or any other instrumental componentry could have accounted for. In that sense, this is a guitar aficionado piece, but not one in love with its own shadow.


I think Vuola is going deliberately soft on the mic when he is singing in songs like “Laugh Vivid Often Adore Unity” as a means of highlighting the harmony more than his own words, but this does not reduce the value of the verses in this record at all. I would actually say it makes us pay a little more attention to their subtext, their greater contribution to the bigger narrative in this record, and even what they lend to our singer when he’s tunefully finding his center amidst all of the destruction in Alouv.

While I thoroughly enjoyed this record from beginning to end, it did leave me with more questions than I’ve got answers relating to Vuola. There’s still so much he can do with this sound, so many different passageways in the walls of this tracklist that could be explored and exploited more than they were in this setting, and if I had my way, his next project would be one that essentially serves as a sequel to this debut. Alouv is full of mysteries, but the greatest one just might be how to get some of its most haunting moments out of your head when it’s over.

Joshua Beach

Thursday, January 6, 2022

Elizabeth Sombart Releases Singing the Nocturnes

As we step into the cold, removed melody of “Nocturnes, Op. 9 No. 1 in B-Flat Minor” with only the piano play of one Elizabeth Sombart to guide us through this familiar excerpt from the Nocturnes, there’s a sense of angst hanging in the air that no amount of pristine play can dispel. Wandering through this six-and-a-half-minute opus, we soon find ourselves on the other side of the track in “Op. 9 No. 2 in E-Flat Major,” by no means evading the dark melancholy that has spilled over from the previous movement. It isn’t until we’re in the guts of the allegretto, “Op 9 No. 8 in B Major,” that we’re truly basking in a feeling of certainty, but I get the impression this was the concept Sombart was going for all along.  


The three parts of “Nocturnes, Op. 15;” “No. 1-4 in F Major,” “No. 2-5 in F-Sharp Major,” and the lento “No. 3-6 in G Minor,” comprise the most sophisticated sounds you’re to hear on Singing the Nocturnes, but the technical prowess that Elizabeth Sombart so eagerly dispenses in these tracks doesn’t remain isolated to “Op. 15.” On the contrary, it’s a mere sneak preview of the tension that will soon fill our speakers to the brim in “Nocturnes, Op. 27 No. 1-7 in C-Sharp Minor,” one of the most hauntingly raw performances I’ve ever heard this artist give inside of a recording studio. She’s really on her game here, and those who have been following her career are going to agree.  

“Nocturnes, Op. 32” is a four-part venture that contributes a bit of buoyancy than “Op. 48” and “Op. 55” just aren’t able to divvy out, and although it feels a little longer than it should comparative to the other movements in this record, it doesn’t drag on past the point of relevancy - nothing in Singing the Nocturnes does. Elizabeth Sombart has gone to such painstaking lengths of giving us the meatiest - and moodiest - that the Nocturnes have to offer here, and although there’s a case to be made that nothing is quite as cutting as what we hear in the latter half of “Nocturnes, Op. 62 No. 2-18,” I can’t imagine listening to fragments of this album rather than the entire piece as one cohesive work of art.  


Elizabeth Sombart wraps up Singing the Nocturnes with the likes of “Nocturnes, posth. No. 20 in C-Sharp Minor” and the posthumous follow up “No, 21 in C Minor,” but by now one is likely to be so bewitched by what they’ve just heard that listening to the record over again feels more appropriate than simply letting these tracks grind to a solid stop. As a lifelong classical lover, this is one of those LPs that’s particularly hard to set aside once given that all-important first spin, and relative to the other Chopin tributes I’ve heard in 2022 and 2021 the same, this stands out as a required listen, and perhaps the best we’ve heard from its creator in a while.  

Winston Hennessey III

Monday, April 5, 2021

"Rising Up” LP by Alex Lopez

“Light It Up” begins Alex Lopez and the Xpress’ new release Rising Up on just the right note. Lopez’s stock and trade, since his first studio recording in 2013, has always been the time-tested fusion of blues and rock motifs, but he never limits himself. Like previous recordings, Rising Up features some stylistic detours, but the release nevertheless centers itself around his guitar and, to a lesser extent, his singing. The highlights of the first song for me are the percussion and, of course, guitar, but Lopez isn’t a vocal slouch as well. 

You may find yourself wishing for a little more grit in his voice, but he never fails hitting listeners square between the eyes with first rate phrasing. It’s an invigorating opening number and promises much from this collection.


“Paradise” is a track I loved on the first listen. It’s very straightforward, you won’t hear any pretentiousness here or the other tracks for that matter, and the effortless way his vocals and, especially, his six string work commands your attention will likely have you listening to this track a few times before moving on to the remainder of the album. It introduces Hammond organ to the album’s sound and it’s an excellent addition, though you may find yourself hoping it will become a little less shrill as the song progresses. It counterpoints his guitar well, there’s several gripping exchanges, but it would have soared even higher with a meatier sound.

The best song on the album, for me, is the title track. Only one other song comes close. This is Lopez at his finest, resolute, unstoppable, and apparently capable of pulling riveting guitar playing out of some bottomless magic hat. The sheer variety of his creativity is impressive. It’s stamped, as well, with his personality and possesses unmistakable spirit. “Not This Time” is a contender for best song too. This pure blues tune begins like so many before it and even more to come, but Lopez has developed his own twist on these time-honored styles that sets it apart from other similar tracks. The relaxed, deliberate pace he takes on is, of course, perfectly suited for this performance.


“I’m Always Wrong” is clever in the way it contrasts the pessimistic lyrical content with the its irrepressible musical agility. The drumming and bass are stand outs here. Having said that, however, the change of pace Lopez’s jazz influenced guitar playing exerts over the album is a welcome respite from the opening four tracks. “Mountain Rain” is another break from the expected. He ventures into acoustic territory with this track producing something not far removed from his wheelhouse but, nonetheless, more folk than quasi-Albert King. His vocal sensitivity is notable as well. There’s a slight ballad-like feel to the final track “Smile” and I am gratified he chose to end the release with such a positive, life-affirming moment. Alex Lopez’s Rising Up is a worthy addition to his growing discography and opens the door to an even brighter future than he’s known so far. 

Joshua Beach

Friday, January 15, 2021


Hewas has had what some might consider to be a charmed start to his career. Being discovered by 98 Degrees in 2019, he subsequently hooked up with the producer, Blazar. Now he has released a song with Cannabis Connoisseur, Afroman. The secret to Hewas’ initial success, might just simply be his legitimate talent and quality of material.”Wholething,” though bound to be a bit polarizing, is another step in the right direction for Hewas.  


Though it wouldn’t sound completely out of place in another decade, there’s something quite modern about “Wholething.” Hewas brings a certain sensitivity, but also a developing masculinity. Vocally, he could be compared to Justin Timberlake, but his presence carries a bit more mystique. The song is a quick ride, and is over before you really feel fully satisfied. That’s not to say you won’t be left without a favorable impression, as musically speaking, it should appeal to a broad demographic. 

Having said that, “Wholething” is going to branded with either the dreaded or heralded, depending on who you ask, parental advisory label. Not always ideal for promotional purposes, in an age of streaming/downloading, the sardonic vulgarity might not be a factor, whatsoever. The song deals with themes of casual hookups, and the aftermath. More specifically, a man that wants to ward off his conquests intrusions, that far exceed the access he intended her to have. That doesn’t read back as having a great deal of taste, but the seasoning does a good job of compensating for it. 

In a bit of irony, Hewas’ vocal style seems more suited for tender and affectionate fare. He hardly sounds like the self-centered playboy, who narrates in “Wholething.” That’s not to say that Hewas’ performance lacks any sort of authenticity, as his voice glides, seductively. Hewas emits a boyish charm at times, with the faintest hint of vulnerability. His unique phrasing and subtle, yet quick shifts in tonality, will succeed in making a strong impression of his range. 

Generally speaking, there isn’t a great deal known about Hewas. It makes the collaboration between he and Afroman all the more remarkable. On paper, it would seem like a bit of a clash of styles, but it somehow manages to exceed expectations. Afroman, marks his territory at the 57 second mark, with an R Rated verse. I had to block you/out my life/cause you lost your mind/and inboxed my wife. 


“Wholething” seems to achieve what it sets out to. It furthers the momentum of Hewas, and makes good use of its famous guest star. I’m not so sure it’s going to be the breakout single for Hewas. That might have already occurred with “Lemon,” with this serving as a novel and solid follow up. Hewas is cruising at a comfortable speed at the moment, and this song certainly won’t ruin the whole thing.

Mark Ryan, posted by Joshua Beach