Album review
Paris
15/09/2010 -
This authentic, uncompromising approach reflects an artist keen to remain anchored to his own life, recording the album in his hometown of Trois Mare. His Creole poetry is challenging, but by singing it (and what a way to sing!), he manages to make it come to life. The notion of freedom that inhabits him goes beyond words, and can be felt throughout this double album by simply looking at its contents: Salim, a poem dedicated to an instrument-maker friend of his who died in 2001, is over 21 minutes long; the preceding title, called Larzan Karné, written back in 1978, lasts less than 3 minutes. And the introduction to Kiliman lasts as long as the rest of the track.
Although the project has also involved some partnerships, which is a new turn in Danyel’s career, even these take very different, rather unusual, forms – the Corsican group A Filetta appears three times. The Réunionnais’ polished polyphonies and unusual singing voice provide some surprising vocal games, although at times there is an artificial feel to them.
The same goes for the new version of Mandela, a track that appeared on Bwarouz in 2002, here with the South-African singer Tumi, who usually appears with his own group, The Volume. Waro’s universe is so personal and tailored to fit that it is no easy task to take possession of his music and shine out quite so brightly.
Bertrand Lavaine
Translation : Anne-Marie Harper
15/09/2010 -
04/12/2006 -
17/05/2002 -