Miriam Lieberman - This is the Story

[purchase, price in Australian dollars]

I love African music, but I don’t share much of it here, because I find it difficult to write about it without understanding the words. So, I have often wished that someone would recreate that particular joys of the music while singing in English. Miriam Lieberman’s new album is This is the Story, and it is pretty close to what I wished for. There are three traditional songs here among the album’s ten, and they are sung in the original Bambara, but the rest are in English. The music is not purely African, the addition of a cello on several songs being proof of this. But Lieberman works with musicians from Mali who recorded their parts in Bamako. The finished tracks, with additional musicians, were done in Sydney Australia. Miriam Lieberman herself studied the kora with the great Toumani Diabate in Mali.

This is the Story is dedicated to Lieberman’s sister Lucy Anne, who died in 2009 at age 16. The song Today is All is clearly about her, and it is written for just cello, acoustic guitar, and voice. So it would be easy to say that there is nothing of Africa in this song. But, if you don’t know African music, listen to the rest of the album. You will hear an stringed instrument that sounds like it is neither a guitar nor a harp, but something in between. That is the sound of the kora, the African harp. Listen again, and get used to the sound; pay attention to the kinds of lines that are played on the kora. Now go back to Today is All, and you will realize that the guitar part is played by someone who has learned to play the kora. The notes come out in ripples that ornament the song, but also propel the rhythm. The music on This is the Story is based on the music of Mali. This music manages to be excitingly rhythmic and delicate at the same time. The drums and percussion never lay down hard beats; rather, they speak in a punctuated chatter. When electric bass is used, it alternates between binding the various parts together by providing the pulse of the song, and playing a rippling burst of notes. When stand up bass is used, there are often beautifully lyric solos. Lieberman has lived in Mexico and Brazil, as well as spending time more recently living and studying music in various African countries, and she calls Australia her home. So Rhythm and Sound has a Latin feel to it, while Mali Sadjo has a reggae beat. Lieberman’s life can be broken into segments, when she lived and heard the music of here or there. But This is the Story sounds more like the product of a woman’s accumulated experience, and the album has a wonderfully consistent quality.

The album opens with a celebration of life. The song Bamako is about a New Years Eve celebration, and it is a burst of joy. But the next song, As-Salaam, could be regarded lyrically as the album’s overture. Songs of love alternate with songs of social concerns, and As-Salaam is both. Lieberman conveys the deep love of two people in few words, only as many as are needed. The chorus, in Arabic and Hebrew, makes it clear that these lovers are a Jew and an Arab. By presenting these lovers at a point where they know that their relationship is forbidden, but withholding a possible tragic ending, Lieberman makes this song a beautiful prayer for peace. I was going to present To Rise Again as my second song with this post, but Lieberman is donating half of the proceeds from this song to the Jeneba Project, which, in part, provides assistance to people who were forced to become child-soldiers in Sierra Leone’s civil war. The song concerns these child soldiers, and it eloquently and sensitively pleads their case. Rhythm and Sound is a fine song as well. Here Lieberman gives us a portrait of a woman who eases the hardship of her days by going out dancing at night. Lieberman’s third-world women are poor, but they have a nobility about them that makes us root for them, and that is certainly the case here. But I fear that I am making This is the Story sound like heavy going, and it isn’t at all. Many’s the Day is a song of romantic yearning with no social agenda. And My Time is a brush off song from a woman who has found a better man.

So take the wonderful energy of African music. Add lyrics in English that are well written and connect powerfully with the characters. Add a powerful alto voice, which can add ripples of notes right along with the band, but always in service of the song. Stir. And you have This is the Story, an album to savor.

Miriam Lieberman : As-Salaam

Miriam Lieberman : Rhythm and Sound

We Need a Superhero

I started the week here with a rant about the state of the economy. Then I moved on to a review of a blues album. And now, I close the week with superheroes. How did that happen? Well, it doesn’t seem that far fetched to me. These are indeed hard times, the kinds of times when people sing the blues, and also the kinds of times when people look for a hero. We want someone to don a mask and cape, vanquish the villains, and make everything alright again. In November of 2008, Obama seemed to be that hero. But in real life, things are much messier than that. It is the villains who have secret identities, and going after the wrong one can sometimes make things worse. And, again in real life, punishing the villains does not make everything right again. So Obama cannot be our superhero, and his poll numbers are a consequence of this, as much as anything else.

Still, it’s nice to dream of a costumed savior when things are rough. These heroes must also maintain dual identities, fooling the people closest to them so that they can save the world. This makes superheroes a rich subject for songwriters.

Alison Brown: Spiderman Theme

[purchase]

This post must begin with Spiderman. Spidey was the first superhero I adopted, when I inherited my oldest brother’s comic book collection. Peter Parker always had a messy personal life, but he would put on that costume and his personal problems would go away, and he would be out there making a difference. Of all the superhero TV shows of my youth, Spiderman, with that great Ralph Bakshi animation, was truest to the original comic book. The theme song was good corny fun. Alison Browne removes much of the corn by rendering this one as an instrumental. What remains becomes a wonderful showcase for her jazz banjo playing.

Crash Test Dummies: Superman‘s Song (live)

[purchase]

Superman was another matter. He was the first superhero in 1938, and his was the formula, with all others being the variations. Superman was perfect, while Clark Kent was his creation, and his comic relief. But Crash Test Dummies find something fresh in this relationship. In their telling, Superman needs a secret identity so he can find a job. After all, saving the world doesn’t pay very well. So Superman becomes the burdened reality, and Clark Kent is the escapist fantasy. I also have the studio version of this song, but I have chosen a live version from Mountain Stage. Fewer people have heard this version, and it is wonderful.

XTC: That‘s Really Super, Supergirl

[purchase]

So what happens when an ordinary human becomes involved with a superhero? XTC, always interested in the everyman, takes up this question in That’s Really Super, Supergirl. It turns out that the reality doesn’t match the fantasy at all. Supergirl doesn’t have to start seeing someone else; she’s always spending more time battling villains than she is with her significant other, and the relationship is doomed from the start.

The Brunettes: Hulk is Hulk

[purchase]

The Incredible Hulk has always been an interesting case. To use his powers, he must lose all sense of self. Therefore, he is, in a sense, not responsible for his actions when he uses his powers. That can seem very tempting to an observer, but our narrator here ultimately can not let go enough to do what the Hulk does. The Brunettes are a band from New Zeeland that I had never heard of before. I am impressed with the songwriting here.

Spotlight Song of the Week:

Miriam Lieberman: Refugee

[purchase]

I would like to present more African music here, but the language barrier limits the accessibility of the music. Miriam Lieberman’s music may not be completely authentic, but she understands the rhythmic drive of this music, and she sings mostly in English. Her lyrics are written in English on most songs, but the words remind me very much of the translations I have seen of African songs. And she uses traditional instruments. Refugee opens with the sound of the kora, or African harp, and the balaphon, or wood xylophone, is also featured prominently. Best of all, Lieberman understands the beauty of this music, and brings it to her work.