Yet its ethereal atmospherics get me every time, the satiated longing of two estranged lovers joined at the astral body by the umbilical cord of Ma Bell. Sunda's songs showcase the pop genius of producer Gugum Gumbira, guru of infusing traditional styles with contemporary kick. Anchored by the teardrop percolations of gamelan percussion, sobbing wooden flute, and fleecy zither washes, vocalists Euis and Yus sweep through the night on the wings of whispered melodrama, sighing and cooing like caged birds who mistake their bars for the horizon. Forget the back-cover credits with pedantic indication of modes. Unlike Euis' last GlobeStyle disc, Jaipongan Java, where formidible rhythm cycles let heartshattered melodies twist in the wind, nothing's obscure here.
Compositions click with a fresh-scrubbed innocence popped from the corn of the best soul ballads.
In an obscure town in the high elevations of northern Morocco, law student Atabou found herself disgusted with the restricted role of women in Berber society, the familial obligations, the forced dependence on men. Since anger at deprivation so clearly drives her, I suspect a subversive twist on established themes that liner note translations fail to capture. Flamenco music may be fiercely traditional, but not so rigid it doesn't allow a wide latitude of interpretation. And it isn't just the new flamenco punks like Pata Negra who take chances. Instead of seeking to become another world music, flamenco redraws its own borders while holding the center intact.