Music Reviews
Apropa't

Savath & Savalas Apropa't

(Warp) Rating - 8/10

Scott Herren, perhaps better known for the frenetical cut-and-paste hip-hop he releases as Prefuse 73, put out the first Savath & Savalas album, Folk Songs for Trains, Trees and Honey in 2000. Then, the emphasis was placed on delicate, thoughtful post-rock; now, Herren has not only expanded the line-up to include Eva Puyuelo Muns, an 'undiscovered' Catalonian singer/songwriter, but also his name: for Apropa't, he is listed as Guillermo Scott Herren. The explanation for this, and the move towards gentle 70s Brazilian psychedelic lilt on this second offering, can be traced to his 18 month relocation to Barcelona to discover the 'untold family roots' of his Spanish father. In keeping with this desire to immerse himself in the irretrievable cultural ghosts of his past, Apropa't is a dip into the wistful and melancholic musical heritage of Catalonia, Spain and Latin America. He describes this hybridisation as 'Catalan/Castellano vocal-based folk steez', whatever the hell that means.

Muns' influence on Herren should not be underestimated: he has openly acknowledged that this is an equal partnership, wherein two musicians found that their individual voices effortlessly melded into one, and the results are so enchanting that even the ubiquitous presence of John McEntire cannot detract from its full and sonorous textures. Their similarly entwined vocals, which sound at once androgynous and otherworldly, are heady exhalations of love and longing that float over pensive classical guitar. Minimalist scatterings of harmoniums, concertinas, harps, bajo sextos and guitarrons complement the loose, open arrangements; accidents were left in to add to this organic feel, and for once the static whirrs and hums of post-rock gently flow under the surface rather than intrude or overwhelm what is predominantly a vocal album. Even sounds from the environment appear to have been purposefully left; thus we hear the environment not only inspiring the music but actually permeating its becoming (it was recorded on Carrer Diputacio, which is a main thoroughfare of Barcelona, and although it went on to be mixed in America, there is a noticeable lack of production credits).

The titles and lyrics, which my girlfriend reliably informs me are a mix of Portuguese, Catalan and Spanish, are as openly romantic and tinged with regret and longing as the music: for example, Um Girassol Da Cor De Seu Cabelo means 'Sunflowers the Colour of Your Hair', and Balcon Sin Flores translates as 'Balcony Without Flowers'. The whole package, including the retro cover art, knowingly (but, I'm sure, lovingly) replicates the kind of specialist 70s exotica that you wouldn't know where to start looking for, but none of this really matters when you allow yourself to become transfixed by its dreamy haze. Listen to it too much and the temptation to stay in bed all day might become overwhelming, and so far it has rarely strayed too far from my stereo, especially after midnight. Side projects rarely eclipse their protagonists' main works, but Apropa't is one radical departure that finds the players perfectly aligning themselves to each other so convincingly that it's hard to imagine Herren looking back again. Rarely do you encounter such blissful, essential alchemy: don't let it pass you by.