Boston Globe, Concert Review >>
CAMBRIDGE - Juana Molina clearly has a special set of ears.
That would be one explanation for the Argentinean singer-songwriter's inspired collision of folk and electronic textures and grab bag of rhythms, which she somehow wrestles into complex nuggets of pure enchantment.
Last night she cast her spell on a sold-out crowd at the Brattle Theatre in a unique 80-minute performance that was both unerringly precise and wildly woolly.
Precision is key to Molina's performance style. Armed with her guitar, a set of trigger pedals, and a shape-shifting synthesizer, she and her rhythm section constructed each song from the ground up. Often she would begin with a lilting acoustic guitar pattern, loop that, add a thick, warped line of keyboard squiggles that sounded as if they could never find instrumental companionship, and then, with the agility of a chemist, invite in drummer and bassist to anchor the proceedings before topping it with several strands of vocals.
The songs, many from her most recent release "Un Dia," sprung to robust, pulsating life, taking on varying colors according to the timbre of her elastic voice. One moment she was girlish with just a hint of huskiness, the next she would wail and whine in a powerful high register before careening off into a hybrid beatbox/scat mashing up languages and sounds as deftly her music.
One of the most intriguing elements of the performance was its consistent tenderness. As crisp and rhythmic as the drum patterns and Molina's various building blocks were, hard angles never intruded on the swooping curves and sinuous grooves that exuded a spellbinding gravitational pull. Resistance to head-bopping and toe-tapping was futile, even for Molina herself, who would occasionally bop along to the beat, rapping on her guitar or skimming her foot pedals.
Although Molina is normally a solo performer, her bassist and drummer never detracted from her style. Clearly well-rehearsed and ready to improvise, the pair added a elegant muscularity to their leader's soundscapes.
For the first encore Molina and her cohorts returned carrying a table and three cups and proceeded to play the most intricately choreographed and percussively delightful interlude imaginable, landing somewhere between "Stomp" and three-card monte.
Setting the mood with his own piercing, living-room croon was local singer-songwriter Mike Fiore and his band Faces on Film. Whether solo or assisted by a pair of backing musicians and vocalist, Fiore's hushed, personal tales shone brightly.
-- Sarah Rodman
02/27/09 >> go there
