Os 3 Morais — Azul Da Cor Do Mar Tico - Tico No Fuba

from Os 3 Morais (1971)

Take this song. Place on tongue. Swallow.

A vocal chill pill from Brazilian siblings Jane Vicentina do Espírito Santo, Sidney do Espírito Santo e Roberto do Espírito Santo: the three ‘Morais’ (their mother’s maiden name).

The trio got its start in the early 60s recording jingles for commercials—you can definitely hear a tinge of soap ad salesmanship in these super-polished vocals.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming…

Julia Holter — Marienbad

from Ekstasis (March 2012)

Wow. Wow. Her voice sounds like a synthesizer. Spooky, beautiful vocal loops in the bad-acid-trip Linda Perhacs vein. Definitely looking forward to this one.

earsofthebeholder:

Here’s a heavenly track off Julia Holter’s next album Ekstasis. Her 2011 release, Tragedy, is one of my favorites of this year - and this next one will no doubt be another hit. Check out more info on RVNG Intl.

Ustad Ghulam Sadiq Khan — Raga Lalit

from Versatile Ragas

I was in India earlier this year, and one day I dragged a friend around Delhi looking for records, CDs and mp3 DVDs at street stalls and shops. I saw this disc in a modern, HMV-style CD shop in New Delhi, and picked it up for just a few dollars.

It was a remarkable find, for this man’s voice is truly like no other. In fact, at times it sounds unlike a human voice at all. Here the vocal chords are reinvented as an entirely new instrument. The style is a modern Indian classical genre called khayal, thought to have developed from the qawwali style of singing.

‘Raga Lalit’ is an early morning raga.

Khan in 2009

Twin Sister — Gene Ciampi

Twin Sister proves, for the second time this summer, that they can do no wrong, and that their musical inspirations are limitless. This song, for example, sounds like Turkish psychedelia crossed with Ennio Morricone. Bravo ragazzi.

yvynyl:

In case you missed Ian Perlman’s close-quarters videos of the band performing in someone’s living room the other day, here’s the studio version of one of the new songs that was played from the forthcoming In Heaven.

Kan Mikami — 馬鹿ぶし (baka bushi aka ‘Rude Idiot’)

from Mikami Kan No Sekai (The World of Kan Mikami) (1971)

Japanese blues troubadour Kan Mikami sings as if you were cutting his heart out…slowly, meticulously, while he bleeds. (Look at the cover) This song, the first track on his debut album, is the most produced, with flutes and pizzicato plucks, but his seething vocals don’t hide behind the graceful instrumentation. The demons are alive in his voice, as it wavers between smooth lullaby tones and chainsaw rage. As an ode to a ‘Rude Idiot,’ it works quite well.

If you track down this album, also don’t miss the track おど (odo). He shrieks the way you would if someone hammered a pin under your fingernails.

There is a wonderful, extensive interview with Mr Mikami at Psychedelic Noise from Japan and NZ. Here are a few highlights taken from that interview.

When did you first pick up a guitar?

Mikami: Must have been in 1965, but I didn’t know how to play then. I’d just look at it and polish it.

What did you think when you first arrived in Tokyo?

Mikami: I thought of the word “violence”. It was as if the city was controlled by violence. The countryside is really pastoral, and I understood the relationship between man and nature. And then you come to a city, and suddenly violence is the real power. Like when the traffic light changes and everyone sets off at once in the same direction—when I saw that I felt like I was being chased by someone. Like there was someone following me and someone controlling it all.

Do your children listen to your songs?

Mikami: Yeah, occasionally. My son really likes them, but my daughter always looks like she’s about to burst into tears.

Out of all the songs you’ve written, which do you think are the best?

Mikami: Maybe ‘Odo.’ That’s the only song that I’ve ever taken to perfection—the only one where I’ve thought that I don’t need to sing this anymore. When I played it in the trio in Yokohama with Haino and Aketagawa, it was like I could see the song flying up to heaven. I knew that I’d never be able to sing it any better than that. It’d be fucked up to sing it any more. It was really like a kaleidoscope. … I realized that songs really do have a proper end, that they do live their lives and then die. Singers can’t suddenly become popular after they’re dead, can they? Once you die it’s over—that’s especially true for musicians. A musician dying is the saddest thing of all—because you’ll never be able to hear that sound again…

Twin Sister — Bad Street (2011)

Was listening to the excellent new yvynyl summer mix yesterday, and this tune jumped right out, because I thought Mark accidentally threw a Tom Tom Club b-side on there.

Which, to my ears, means Twin Sister has locked into their best work yet. They’ve come a long way from their (also awesome) free-floating space jams—this is rock-solid new-wave funk, punctuated by glittery synths and staccato contributions from the rest of the band. And Andrea Estella’s vocals are better than ever—ultra-confident, alluringly deep. Dance party, anyone?

2 Of Clubs — Heart (1966)

2 of Clubs was Linda Parrish and Patti Valentine, two blondes with singing gigs at the Cincinnati nightclub Guys and Dolls. It wasn’t long before they figured out how harmoniously their voices braid together. That should be enough to lure you in. But then the going gets weird, and the Spector turns into spectacle, with a psychedelic frenzy of key changes. This gets a 10 in the unexpected performance category.

pierreism: ‘Heart’ by 2 Of Clubs Starts off as a Spector-ish ode to everyone’s favourite love-pump, then just when you least expect it, ’60s PSYCHEDELIC PARTY FREAKOUT! Amazing. (via Derek’s Daily 45)

Alessi Brothers — Oh Lori (1977)

Toña La Negra — El Cacahuatero (early 1930s)

from Hot Women: Women Singers From the Torrid Regions of the World (2003)

A Robert Crumb compilation of treasured 78s, featuring a full roster of chanteuses from the sultry (and sweltry) corners of the globe, including the Caribbean, Sicily, Vietnam, Greece, Algeria, Turkey, East Africa, India, Myanmar, Tahiti and Hawaii. No steamy clime left unvisited on this round-the-world tour!

Ruido Rosa — Dentro (2011)

Zeppelin-style jams from Mexico City’s Ruido Rosa (Pink Noise). Not my usual listening, but if these girls come to New York City, sign me up. They are killing it. The meek need not apply.

Edwyn Collins — Losing Sleep

from Losing Sleep (2011)

Edwyn Collins, whom you may know (and love) as the frontman of Orange Juice suffered a series of strokes and brain hemorrhages in 2005. The bleeding in his brain nearly killed him, leaving him unable to talk or walk, let alone sing or play guitar. Yet things seem to be looking up. He’s been touring again, including a recent stop in Brooklyn, which I sadly missed, and has a new album out. And it’s quite good.

Collins still can’t play guitar, though he’s aided here by a fine roster of players like Johnny Marr. And though his vocals have aged a bit, they’re not half bad for a middle-aged man. But this album is more than a story of human resilience, of a singer delivered from near death to regain some fraction of his musical abilities. Because what shines through on every song are the same unquenchable melodies he’s famous for—this is actually music you want to listen to. And the fact that he was able to build these anthems by simply singing the melodies is even more remarkable.

Patsy Cline — Foolin’ Round

from Patsy Cline Showcase (1961)

Happy Easter Sunday… but more importantly for yerdarlingdaily, happy Country Sunday. This Buck Owens-penned tune was track two on the A side of Patsy’s second LP, 1961’s Patsy Cline Showcase. It’s a departure from the twangy original, with a chi-chi tropical guitar riff. Nice touch.

I know that you’ve been foolin’ round on me right from the start
So I’ll give back your ring and take back my heart.
And when you’re tired of foolin’ around with two or three
Then come on home and fool around with me.

Stay tuned for Buck performing it in an absolutely stunning sparkly yellow suit…

Brenton Wood — Baby You Got It

from Baby You Got It (1967)

Teenybopper soul from the man who brought us “Gimme Little Sign.” [video] Admittedly, much of the album feels as if that chorus is just around the corner… it’s the voice. I also applaud Wood for defining his preferences in regards to boob jobs, in 1967. Or am I reading too much into this?

You got soul, too much soul,
Foxy clothes, cutest nose,
Greatest shape, nothin’ fake
Groovy lips, make me flip,
Pretty eyes, hypnotize
Baby you got it

Paco Ibáñez & Carmela — Guerra de los Vargas

from The Fantastic Carmela Sings Latin American Folklore (1969)

Here Spanish guitarist and ‘rebel artist’ Paco Ibáñez accompanies Carmela (Carmen Didia) on a Venezuelan folk song by Tino Carrasco. Quench your thirst for all sounds Venezuelan (including Carrasco) at the encyclopedic blog Venezuela en Ritmo—”siempre imitada, nunca igualada.”

Federico García Lorca y La Argentinita — Las Morillas de Jaén

from Canciones Populares Españolas (1931)

I had no idea Lorca was also a pianist. But here he is serenading us, along with Argentine flamenco dancer La Argentinita.

This traditionalzéjel dates to the 15th century, and tells a love story between the singer and three Moorish girls who’ve converted to Christianity after the Reconquista (when the Christian kingdoms in Spain and Portugal reconquered lands held by the Moors.) The Christians had fought for over seven centuries to take hold of the Iberian peninsula, until only the Nasrid Dynasty in the Al-Andalus (Andalucia) province remained. It fell in 1492.