THE LATE ISABEL
Imperial
The reigning goths in the local indie scene are back—though not exactly with the cold embrace of the undead. Instead, there’s fresh, hot blood coursing through their veins so their debut release after a decade of singles and EPs is alive with both the roots new wave of Siouxsie and the Banshees and the post-new wave, a.k.a. garage rock 2.0, of The Strokes. It’s true: vocalist Wawi Navarozza retains her gothic howl throughout the album sustained occasionally by reverbed guitars and dirge-like cadences. Most of the time though, the band—composed of drummer JP Agcaoili, bassist Roval Bacale and guitarist Alan Hernandez—provides a bed of scintillating hook-laden sounds that make Navarroza’s cry of “going down the sewer” slide easily. Even the singsong shuffle underlining Outside of Time is part of the album’s hypnotic power.The Late Isabel simply understands what brings a song alive from start to finish. It’s the psychobilly-driven pop-rock of Tinstick and the muscular death-disco of Eunuch. It’s the lasting charisma of reliable warhorse, Lackadaisical. It’s the breathy, yet unsettling magnetism of Navarroza’s voice in tear-stained ballads and in fiery rockers.
This batch of taut yet urgently moving songs should elevate the erstwhile goths to Pinoy rock royalty.
CHEATS
Before The Babies
Rather than the glad tidings of a forthcoming birth, the arc of Cheats’ second album is freighted with the wistful melancholy of uncertainty. A few track titles are dead giveaways: Crumble, False Alarm and Beg, while the intoxicating music masks the anxieties with its vivid evocation of‘90s alt-rock. An apparent homage to early Sandwich runs through opener Printers. Then the band, featuring husband and wife Jim Bacarro and Saab Magalona-Bacarro, pull out all the stops in the Madonna-meets-gay disco fervor of Glassmouth which should certainly find a sympathetic ear playing on the radio, in hotel bars and dingy clubs—just about anywhere. The track’s core question Who/Why/How did you do it? is also the stuff that slithers through the rest of the album’s lyrical struggle with unwanted love and unrequited lust.
What glues everything together is the band’s firm grasp of killer hooks. Only a dead person would not be moved by the aural pleasures of Talk. Follow-up Ringer could have tumbled out from The Breeders’ songbook of cracking slow numbers. Penultimate cut Melon is a rousing prelude to the acoustic fade-out of the title track. Cheats can look forward to new creative peaks ahead.
AL DI MEOLA
Opus
MULTIINSTRUMENTALIST and six-string virtuoso Al di Meola is typically associated with late-night guitar forays fit for after-party small talk to pass the time away before parting ways.
The thing is, the seasoned guitar slinger blends jazz, rock and world music in ways that his compositions become in themselves conversation pieces.
So much for evoking a relaxed mood—di Meola is more likely to charm his way and entice party guests to linger a little while longer.
His latest effort Opus lives up to its title. Its 11 tracks are master’s pieces and each one is bound to elicit a specific mood. The sentimental ones, Milonga Noctiva and Ava’s Dream Sequence Lullabye, for instance, are sophisticated takes on fleeting sadness. Interspersed among them are gregarious, almost ecstatically funky Notorious and Pomp. Album closer Rebels brings jazz and rock textures together in a rollercoaster ride of emotions.
There’s more to 62-year old Al di Meola than his new Opus suggests. He’s still got the mental agility and finger dexterity to unleash opuses till the cows come home.
KENNY WAYNE SHEPHERD
Lay It On Down
JOURNEYMAN Kenny Wayne Shepherd is celebrated as an accomplished bluesman in the mold of supreme string-benders Robert Cray and Steve Ray Vaughn. As a recording artist, Shepherd tends to fuse as many musical styles for a varied fare to reach a wider audience.
His new album goes to as many lengths as his bluesy guitar can take him. Gospel reveals its pulsing, aching heart in Hard Lessons. Texas blues by way of Vaughn pumps up the volume in the hard-hitting Down For Love and She’s $$$ as well as in the ‘80s dance-pop swirl of How Low Can You Go?
Shepherd sings of bringing on the weight of the world in the heavy balladry of the title track, echoing like an Eagles tribute. Nothing But The Night finds him spreading his wings to fly and loving it. It’s a fluid blues-rocker that should see Shepherd and his band crossing over to the Hot 200 charts.
The time has come for Shepherd’s turn on the spotlight. It’s something he richly deserves.