Mercedes Sosa - Cantata sudamericana (1972)

A strange one from La Negra. As a musical and political icon, Mercedes Sosa came into some more conceptual projects such as this (spearheaded by composer Ariel Ramírez) which tended to be marred by their programmatic intentions (Misa Criolla as well, also composed by Ramírez, remarkably failed to impress me, while sadly becoming a most poor contender for trademark release from Sosa). Mercedes did her best work not when handling abstract ideological proclamations, but by embodying them in identifiable characters and narratives, which her all-powerful and empathetic voice could easily make pulse with emotional blood, even in the briefest vignettes (e.g. Zamba de los mineros, among many others). Whenever the songs turn into pamphlets they fail to be as humanly engaging, and thereby forego the very political efficacy they seek.

That is worsened here by the strictly musical discourse, which sounds like a kitschy pan-american take on the musical traditions of the various people for whom the work wishes to speak for, but doesn’t seem to credibly relate to (and where did that manic harpsichord spring from?). So, despite claims to some kind of "authentic" inspiration, we're offered mostly a collection of musical cartoons (which is also possibly what all musical forms tend to, to some extent, the minute they begin to (need to) be defined as authentic; but there's no need to get into that right now). Maybe something could be said (even if it doesn't do much for me) for the cultural re-appropriation of musical discourses already filtered by north-american musical hegemony; Bossa Nova being a case in point (and also one of the most awkward pastiches found in this Cantata) or, more radically, Tropicalism. This is not a good poster-record for that angle though, as I find it veering towards hollywoodesque exotica, of all things. I was almost surprised for not hearing, at some point, Yma Sumac pushing Mercedes away and taking over the show. 

Her voice could make just about anything sound great, sure; just not all.

Psico - Al’s / Epitáfio (1978)

The least progressive thing in the often quite progressive realm of portuguese music (particularly coming from a folk angle) were its very few stints with stereotypical 70's prog rock. This punchy and inventive fusionesque single from 1978, the only recorded output from a barely known and unstable outfit that never got to make a proper vinyl statement after a decade or so of playing the occasional live show, might be the only thing I would salvage without reservations from that not-even-a-scene. 

I can't imagine musical things getting much more one-off than this.

Kimmo Pohjonen - Kielo (1999)

Hindsight hinders Pohjonen’s debut. It inevitably sounds like a test record where Kimmo - quiting the folk scene (though not necessarily its roots) to unleash the primal voices in his head, with a mutant accordion by his side - is trying out techniques and stylistics that would become his bewildering trademark, but which hadn’t yet morphed into a fully formed, coherent musical idiom, as there is nothing to be found here that Pohjonen didn’t do better later. You can appreciate where his music was going, but you can also frustratingly hear that it hadn’t gotten there yet - and, in it, you also get a bonus sneak preview of some of the questionable choices (like those proto-techno beats) he would devolve into after his streak of most original and uncompromising albums; so, pretty much a time-travelling worst of both worlds. Once you’ve trodden the unique and exhilarating soundscapes he would shortly open up, it’s hard to enjoy this initial effort for what it was at its time; your audition is caught up in a temporal limbo in which this record has no present; it’s being constantly projected onto a musical future it relates to but cannot match.