For French singer Carla Diratz‘s latest album, she has enlisted two of the Discus family to conjure some surprisingly diverse soundscapes for her smoky, timeworn vocalising.
Both Martin Archer and Nick Robinson are hardy veterans, capable of providing the perfect backdrops and these veer from the gentlest of piano laments to forceful, driven, post-prog whirlwinds. In fact, the opening two tracks show the full range of their craft, with the title track opener being a dark and dramatic post-punk-prog highlight; its sinuous, vibrant bass guitar courtesy of Dave Sturt, amongst which Nick injects squirls of spiny guitar.
Carla’s voice is a wild thing, part spoken, throaty and soulful, the emotion always welling up. The track length allows all the players to inject some of their personality during the breaks from vocals, with meandering organ adding to the swell of sound. “Le Sang Et Les Larmes” in comparison is a deft improv piano piece, sparse but soothing, allowing Carla’s emotive voice plenty of room to unfurl. You can almost imagine her leaning tearfully against the piano, brandy to hand, watching the hands of the clock revolve. The album continues like this, not allowing the listener any opportunity for second guessing. The propulsive rhythm and staccato guitar of “I Am With You” is really enjoyable and vibrant, Carla’s words shimmying around the rock-solid rhythm, keys and horns folding their way around her like encouraging friends. “Mother” gives Charlotte Keeffe a chance to interact with Carla, her trumpet playful and almost folky, lending a soft feel to the emotional and seemingly personal words.When the piano is introduced, it is incredibly thoughtful. Its subtlety allows Carla to travel at will, but always with a sense of comfort for her soul bearing. Although sometimes couched in an impressionistic manner, the words often burn, that sensation of personal exploration ever present. There is no feeling of forcing these tales, just of them being natural extensions of a complex personality. Across the album, the mix of languages is beguiling, Carla’s command of English good, but the twisting of familiar words is really pleasurable; while the tracks delivered in French, like “Menhir Et Gemissements”, swathed in a veil of extemporised howling, settle naturally on the ears.
You could almost describe “The Nature Of A Child” as dark, prog-Americana with the most straightforward rhythm so far, the guitar shimmering, aided by the massed ranks of horns with loads of staggering reverb, and the poetry is lovely: “…a lonely child, an unknown flower…”. There is plenty of organ in the dreamy and distant “Dove Mi Hai Lasciata”, everything adrift in an impressionistic wash save the voice that welcomes the sax as it chases the jazzy guitar. In all, this is a fantastic selection, even stretching towards the playful yet melancholy Christmassy feeling of “Le Chagrin – Etude 3”, the just-awoken stumble of the piano an antidote to the final track’s jazzy Birthday Party workout. The drumming is driving and divine, and the sense of the whole band giving its utmost is all-consuming and a perfect point on which to end.The sense of drama and melancholy but strength and compassion bleeds through the whole album, and makes it an essential taster of Carla’s worldview. Well recommended.
-Mr Olivetti-
