Those of you who follow this blog will already know Sebastián Tozzola, Argentinian musician, bass clarinet soloist for the Philharmonic Orchestra of the Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires, but also incredibly talented bass player, singer, composer and Ernie Ball Music Man artist. We extensively talked about Sebastián’s music and projects during the last couple of years, and this blog hosts what I believe are his only two reviews from italian media (you can read the first one here, in Italian, and then here and here, in english). Among his projects, Sebastián has recently pursued a duo with the singer, guitarist and songwriter Manuel Estrach, aka Manu Estrach: their first album, Mundo Trampa, has been anticipated during the last months by sharing some video excerpts and some singles, and it has finally been released on December 23. The eight tracks on Mundo Trampa create a soothing atmosphere, built on a sound that elegantly blends the Argentinian folklore with pop music, covering the whole distance between traditional music and contemporary popular songwriting, in a delicate and fruitful equilibrium between its various elements.
The melancholically beautiful theme of Canción de ayer sets the mood for the whole work, with its magical sort of oneiric suspension: the song, composed by Sebastián Tozzola, is a slow ballad for the stunningly expressive five string Music Man Stingray bass of Sebastián and, more importantly, for his bass clarinet, which delicately outlines the theme. The whole sound is timeless, and opens up more into the beautiful Cuando lejos me fui, a song written by Manu Estrach, with the contribution of Juan Mauro (guitar) and Santiago Arroyo (percussion), dominated by another unforgettable melodic line and a powerful, mellow solo of Sebastián’s fretless bass. Despertar begins on a sort of pensive piano part, played by the same Sebastián, a clair-de-lune accompanied by the profound tone of his bass clarinet: the lyrics deeply deal with the moments immediately following the waking up (Y convertirme ciegamente en lo que sé que solamente me puede salvar/ Y conformarme con saber que las respuestas lentamente llegarán), and the dream-like mood is underlined by the use of a twelve-strings guitar (played by Estrach). In all the songs, the bass parts by Sebastián provide both a solid, groovy sustain to the song structure and a sense of deeply cinematic, melodic aperture, resulting in some truly memorable solo passages for what concerns with the delicacy of touch and the melodic sensitivity. Frente al mar joins the dreamy soundscapes of the previous tracks with a much groovy feel: the bassline by Sebastián is both solid and melodic, making large use of harmonics, and Estrach plays again a twelve-string guitar. The bass solo is astonishing, concise and marvelously shaped: Sebastián’s phrasing is here at its best, incredibly expressive, and the overall sound reminds something of the sea, a central image also for the lyrics (here written by the bass player himself).
Grillo de Campo, already heard on Sebastián‘s Paseo del Bajo Vol. 2, opens the second half of the album. The song pays a respectful homage to the great Argentinian tradition of boleros, featuring another mesmerizing bass solo and further improved by the light, delicate voice of Manu Estrach. All along these tracks, Sebastián‘s playing is always in a perfect balance between technical accuracy and melodic sensitivity: the sweet, beautiful melodies on Las mañanas clearly demonstrate this. Here the bass smoothly underlines the melodic line sung by Estrach, and this short, adorable ballad is further enriched by the transcendentally beautiful phrasings and themes played on the fretless. Tiempo Lata has a pensive, nocturnal mood: the bass harmonics accompany the voice, before a guitar and a more solid, groovy bass line kick in. Here again, Sebastián‘s fretless bass is entrusted with the exposition of beautiful melodic phrasings during the instrumental passages, and helps to evoke the dreamy atmosphere to which the lyrics (and the whole album) refer. Manu Estrach sings some memorable lyrics (the refrain, Soy un lienzo blanco/ frente a un mundo trampa/ cruzo el río entero/ vivo el tiempo lata, but also the beautiful verses El silencio se demora en su paciencia/ ese tramo entre la 4 y 6 de la mañana/ los zorzales con los grillos/ las bocinas con los gritos y el temblor del subterráneo pronto cantas) and the song proceeds on a dreamy and warm pace. The closing track is the beautiful ballad Viento Complicado, introduced by another memorable fretless bass line. Viento Complicado, written by both Sebastián and Manu, features the rhythm designed by Fabián “sapo” Miodownik on drums, and it is another groovy passage, further ennobled by another fantastic and evocative solo passage on the fretless bass.
As I wrote in a recent, short comment about this album, there is no need to use any more words to describe the out-of-this-world-playing of Sebastián Tozzola (as a bass player, I do not hesitate in considering him as one of the greatest contemporary interpreters of the instrument): here we can merely notice how his style, expressiveness and feel elegantly and perfectly match with the intricate guitar arpeggios and the melodious voice by Manu Estrach. Through its elegant compositions, Mundo Trampa evokes nostalgic yet romantic panoramas, dreamy soundscapes, oneiric fragments snatched from the sleep upon wakening: its melodic intricacies made of it an album to be enjoyed “open air”, in a sort of romantic communion with nature; but at the same time it has elements that resemble nocturnal music, with all its mysteries and hidden-in-the-dark secrets. What I mean here is probably that Mundo Trampa is both a “physical” record, beautifully played and crafted, where you can hear the hands touching the strings; and also a sort of an oneiric voyage in a dream region, the creation of multiple, romantic worlds and a delicate caress that envelopes us as a glorious mist. These eight beautiful tracks reside in a place of pure, musical magic, somewhere on the twilight zone between sleep and wakefulness, fascinating as well-crafted dioramas of fantastic landscapes: a bunch of songs that are good for heart and mind, for which it would be necessary to invent an ad hoc definition (something like south American dream pop? But I don’t like to label the products of the spirit, or more generally Art). One thing I am sure: Mundo Trampa leaves who listen in a suspended world, eager for more and more. Let’s hope there will be a second album soon!