Syndication
Making Ladino New Again
Melody Macher
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One of the more interesting developments in modern Jewish music is the emergence of a handful of bands that meld raucous New York rock and Putumayo-friendly world music. The Sarah Aroeste Band, a five-member group focused on the Judeo-Spanish music of the Ladino-speaking Diaspora, has become one of the scene’s pillars.
The band’s sophomore album, “Puertas,” is an argument about Ladino music’s future. Updating Sephardic sounds and Mediterranean melodies with rock flourishes, the group gives “Puertas” a low-fi garage vibe. The marriage of Ladino lyrics to this modern sensibility drives the album forward — showing that the past can not only infiltrate, but also add meaning to the present.
On album opener “Los Bilbilicos — Love Blooms,” Aroeste sings the first stanza, about a nightingale’s song, with an assured confidence. But midway through, the guitarist launches a solo that drones in and out, evoking the drug-fueled underground rock of the 1970s. It’s a jarring, striking departure. Aroeste’s self-assuredness gives way to an enticing vulnerability. Suddenly, the song has become this ominous relic, a voice without a time to belong to. It ends with the plea, “Core y salvame.” Run and save me.
Too often, experiments in Ladino and klezmer revival lack the puissance or impact that they had in their original contexts — what Walter Benjamin would call their “aura.” When Aroeste succeeds (and she often doesn’t, sometimes falling prey to an over-faithfulness to the traditional tunes), it’s because she’s learned that oft-cited maxim: You can’t go home again.
When Aroeste sings in English on the album’s final song, “Thessaloniki,” “Give me your song and cry it true/Come to me now I long for you,” she’s both beckoning to her heritage and lamenting a history she can never fully recreate. That tension is the heart and soul of her thrilling new album.
To hear “Los Bilbilicos” and other songs, visit the Sarah Aroeste Band’s MySpace page. To view video of a live performance by the group, click here.
Mordechai Shinefield has written about music for Rolling Stone, The Village Voice and the New York Press.
Comments
Hi, (1)"sometimes falling prey to an over-faithfulness to the traditional tunes)" What on earth does this mean? (2) What might "Los Biblicos" be? Los Bilbilicos. The little birds, not the little bibles, sing in May. (3) "You can’t go home again." Sure you can. Or at least some people can go home again some of the time. They often recharge their batteries while they're there, if you really want to speak in cliches. Judith Cohen
Okay, so there's a new genre, Rock en Djuedo-Espanyol, but now what? Is it Christina Aguilera or Ozomatli? It's neither because Aroeste paints a pretty picture but cant back it up with her own instrument or her treatment of the material. The former shows little any mastery in either traditional Sephardic or rock technique. The latter is arranged for rock format, but the delivery is so straight-ahead it brings little new to the songs. Its nice, but lacks passion and fails to push the envelope, so it fell flat for me. If the aim is to preserve it with a modern sound, then Soft Rock en Ladino will do I suppose. Mom would like it just fine, but this doesn't advance the tradition either. The best element was Tamir Muskat's remix track at the end of the album. Had he produced the album rather than Frank London, it might have been a more interesting concept.
I don't think, as Ploni seems to write, that Aroeste's music needs to push the envelope to the extremes to be enjoyed more. I wouldn’t want a full album of remixes (as much as I like Tamir Muskat’s song). As a younger Sephard myself, I appreciate that Aroeste is doing something to keep the music alive for me in a way that definitely seems fresh compared to what else I’ve heard out there. And I’ve also seen her band’s show live, and it was fantastic (it certainly had a lot of passion). I think they’re pretty cool for doing what they’re doing.
It can and should be enjoyed, and need not push the envelope to the extreme, but several other acts are doing that and the result is captivating. This safe approach keeps her accessible, but keeping a tradition alive means taking it out of the case and letting it evolve.
I so want Aroeste's second album to go farther or at least mix it up in a few tracks. Throw me a curve. Is it enough to just be good? I guess, but why not make it truly great? She doesn't have to be Balkan Beat Box, but Muskat's remix is more interesting and by contrast shows what's possible. There are other possibilities; I'd like to hear a reggaeton beat under Bilbilicos, for example. As Shinefeld suggests, I would encourage her to not be so delicate with material and be more sonically adventurous.
If Sephardic music can't go home again, it needs to go (and take the listener) somewhere new. Rock may seem new territory for Seph. music, but somehow I feel like I was here before. I too have seen the live show, and for better or worse, the albums are accurate documents.
Like a good class in wine tasting, not only do you introduce people to music they may never have listened to (which was definitely my case with Aroeste), but listening to Los Biblicos I could definitely taste the berries in the wine. Thanks.