Spain's Amparanoia created a minor sensation with their debut album, garnering a BBC Radio 3 world music award. This, the follow-up, sees them getting real international distribution, and refining their rich sound, which draws from flamenco, the Mediterranean, Cuba, and even a few touches of ska (quite apparent on the bilingual "You Know What I Mean," which seamlessly and infectiously slides between styles). Largely recorded live in the studio, it's a playful outing, full of life, and little reminiscent of their friend Manu ...
Read More
Spain's Amparanoia created a minor sensation with their debut album, garnering a BBC Radio 3 world music award. This, the follow-up, sees them getting real international distribution, and refining their rich sound, which draws from flamenco, the Mediterranean, Cuba, and even a few touches of ska (quite apparent on the bilingual "You Know What I Mean," which seamlessly and infectiously slides between styles). Largely recorded live in the studio, it's a playful outing, full of life, and little reminiscent of their friend Manu Chao. Sometimes it just percolates in a low-key manner, as on the overlong "Saracon Agua," whose horn charts fill out what's really just a vamp, but when they get going there's a fire to the music, as on "Tiempo Pa Mi," where it switches to double speed and takes on a burnished Cuban groove. It all comes together with "Nada," which is far more than nothing, full of bubbly percussion as it slinks along with a sexy smile, propelled by singer Amparo Sánchez's smiling voice. She's quite charismatic, but in a relaxed manner, leading a band that doesn't try to flash its technique, but lets the song do the talking. It's a friendly record, bounding around like an eager puppy. But perhaps the best thing is the writing -- everything sounds so familiar, like "Little Think," which sounds like a lost '70s reggae-soul classic. The four bonus tracks on this CD offer a mixed bag, from the fleeting seconds of "Ven" to the Marley groove of "Permites Madrecita," which is faintly reminiscent of "Jamming." And Marley himself is covered on "Redemption Song." It's presented with a strange sound system intro (plus banjo!) that really stands alone before going into the song. It's one of those heartfelt pieces it's impossible to destroy, and the band does it full justice in a sensitive treatment made all the more attractive by Sánchez's accent. Add in a DVD disc, too, and you have an excellent package. Whether they're as great as people have made out, however, remains to be seen over the next couple of years. ~ Chris Nickson, Rovi
Read Less