When producer and percussionist
Nicola Cruz issued 2015's wondrous
Prender el Alma for the pioneering ZZK label, he, in essence, delivered a new brand of Latin American music that paid homage to the South American continent's historical past and in particular Ecuadorian culture and folklore, all the while embracing cutting-edge digital technology folded into his organic creations.
Cruz called his form "Andean Step," and built his sumptuous tracks layer by layer, instrument by instrument, drum by drum, loop by loop, exploring Afro-Latin cosmologies in a setting ripe for headphone listening and the club floor.
Four years on,
Cruz tunnels deeper and wider on
Siku. For starters, he abandons some of the electronic sound that characterized his previous work to explore organic instruments as central tenets in his rhythmic and melodic inventions. The word "siku" refers to the ancient handmade panpipe made of bamboo shoots that originated and is still played by Ecuador's indigenous people.
Cruz created
Siku on tour, cutting bits and pieces in different cities with a host of different collaborators. The atmospheric opener, "Arka," employs multi-tracked, syncopated, and percussive use of the panpipes (originally meant to be played in pairs) courtesy of Esteban Valdivia, a globally renowned musical anthropologist and multi-instrumentalist. It emphasizes the strong melodies of the pan flute in polyrhythmic cadences juxtaposed against direct, intrusive, martial-sounding drums. The title track uses house-style synths, deep bass, and skittering loops in nudging the music toward pop, though it remains on the fringes. Steamy Colombian Cumbia is at the heart of the rhythm track on "Hacia Delante," with vocals courtesy of
Chato.
Cruz collaborates with Brazilian singer Castello Branco on the lithe and poetic "Criançada," sung in Portuguese; its tender romantic melody hovers above a sumptuous samba beat. "Voz de las Montañas" is a collaboration with Swedish/Colombian duo Minük that is rife with textural rhythm tracks and ambient spaces. "Siete," with Mauricio, Julio and Pablo Vicencio of the veteran folk group Altiplano de Chile, employs sitar and subtle, breathy bansuri flutes in modal articulations over raw percussion -- snares, congas, etc. -- and dubwise production. With the same players, "Obsidiana" paints guitars, sitars, and skeletal keys into the margins, but it's otherwise fueled exclusively by a plethora of drums and percussion instruments (especially the jazz-tinged vibraphone). Closer "Esu Enia" is driven by the powerful African balafon, courtesy of Portugal's Marcio Pinto; it offers a complex interplay of hard-driving percussion textures and beats that create their own fragmentary melodies. On first listen,
Siku may seem more scattershot than its predecessor, but that's hardly the case. It roams more, and is less centered on club culture, but focuses like a laser on the one critical element that binds all music together: rhythm.
Cruz's refusal to be categorized results in a much larger and more speculative depth of field musically and culturally; it offers a view of his Ecuadorian "Andean Step" that a global listening audience can embrace. ~ Thom Jurek