An Acute Case: 3 November 2024

Long may you live twice

Manu Chao: Viva Tu
It may be 17 years since his last album, but 63-year-old French-Spanish globetrotter Chao’s music has barely changed. A bit slower, maybe more meditative—though that might be the same thing. Variations on a few dippy rhythms carry all 13 parts of this unpretentious song cycle, and if nothing breaks the flow, not everything rises above it either. Pop-wise, he differentiates with his usual bag of tricks: sing-song melodies, random chatter, sound effects, bells, whistles, and Willie Nelson’s harmonica—all as charming as they ever were. Because one song called “São Paulo Motoboy” is about São Paulo motoboys, much has been made of his working-class politics. Though as a monoglot who always reads the translations, I can’t say I’m seeing anything especially profound. But who listens to this guy for the lyrics anyway? His big political gesture has always been democratising his various influences, which he does here as fluidly and accessibly as ever. B PLUS

Hinds: VIVA HINDS
A duo once more, madrileñas Carlotta Cosials and Ana García do the cordial thing and reintroduce themselves. “Hi, How Are You”, one of them opens. “Fine, thanks and you,” the other replies. Though “soonish I’ll be gone,” they warn. And so they are, bidding “Bon Voyage” a little over thirty minutes later with “we depart tonight, tonight, tonight, tonight / dipping our toes in a fountain / a fountain we found on the street / it's kinda gross, not really deep / but we still dive in.” All of which is to say that they know youth is fleeting and love is bittersweet but remain committed to enjoying both. They’d rather do it together, hence the title—though given their recent downsizing, I wonder how wishful that sentiment is. Cutting through the fug of their own lo-fi though not low energy guitars with cute accents, fluent English, and a catchiness that can take a minute to materialise, they bring the “Boom Boom Back” convincingly enough to make you think they can keep it up forever. Maybe they can. They’ve made it this far. A MINUS

Ice Spice: Y2K!
You know, there’s a tipping point between laconic and lazy. * (“Phat Butt” “Think U The Shit (Fart)”)

Jason Isbell: Live from the Ryman, Vol. 2
Isbell is nothing if not doggedly empathic, so I can’t help feeling his songs accrue power when they’re addressed directly to other people. It also doesn’t hurt that performing live makes him sing louder—I’ve always thought his voice could use more mustard. For some reason, none of that manifested on volume one, which turned material this good milder. From where I sit, the difference is the 37% increase in five-minute-plus run-times, with guitar heroics the reason in 8 out of 9 cases. Though he only calls this “a rock and roll show” after acoustic renditions of “Strawberry Woman” and “Cast Iron Skillet”, he proves himself right by following up with a final run that starts by going from a chug to a prayer over the 8-minute marriage-and-childhood-spanning “Miles” and finishes with the full-throttle twin leads that propel the bad life choices of the 9-minute “This Ain’t It” to a head. There’s isn’t much flash; that’s never been his or his band’s way. As good democrats, their selling points are sound ideological foundations, dependability, and technical know-how—which gets my vote. A MINUS

Lady Gaga: Harlequin
No, I haven’t seen the movie. Yes, I know you hated it. But whatever its shortcomings, they don’t spoil a collection of standards only tweaked here and there to reflect Gaga’s film role as a deranged agent of chaos. As her pipes are terrific, nothing’s an overstretch. But wit and brio are what make her a compelling performer, so she’s best when the material engages her brains. That doesn’t always mean the lively stuff: Arlen/Koehler’s “World On A String” is played with a precariousness that fits its metaphor, while “Folie à Deux”, one of two originals, is a perfectly cracked romance. Still, lively is how she came up, so it’s no surprise that she wham-bams Judy Garland on “Good Morning” and “Get Happy”, delights in enunciating “I'd like those stumble bums to see for a fact, the kind of top drawer, first-rate chum I attract”, and makes Schwartz/Dietz’s “That’s Entertainment!” sound like autobiography and Bricusse/Newley’s "The Joker" (one of two numbers from The Roar of the Greasepaint – The Smell of the Crowd) sound like a cut from The Fame Monster. That the only artist consistently doing great things with the great American songbook is one of the world’s true megastars shouldn’t be taken for granted. It’s hardly fashionable. If the price is an occasional Bruno Mars duet, “That’s Life”. A MINUS

NLE Choppa: Slut SZN
As with most good jokes in bad taste, a hoot until he takes it seriously. ** (“SLUT ME OUT 2” “SLUT ME OUT 3”)

Okaidja Afroso: Àbòr Édín
Ancient or at least ancient-sounding songs from West Africa with hints of pan-Africa in the mix. Sparsely orchestrated, beautifully harmonised, unfailingly mild. * (“Fóó Tè” “Àtsii Nū Náá”)

Wimps: City Lights
With their scratchy guitars, pared lyrics, instant hooks, and zero-waste policy, it’s simplest to slot this Seattle three-piece as punk. “Each day is the same as the last / there is no future there is no past” fits genre preconceptions, as do “I’m in a rut / don’t tell me that I’m not,” “don’t know what I’m doing but I’m doing it,” and a litany of nevers including “wash my hair”, “change my clothes”, “leave the house”, and “blow my nose.”  Still, whine or no whine, Rachel Ratner’s voice is humane rather than brash, the music seldom abrades, and the lyrics are keyed to the everyday challenges of adulting. So it’s no surprise when Ratner’s motherhood song arrives. “Watch me make lunches for everyone,” she boasts. “I haven’t washed my hair for a week / every time I run I start to pee / I’m gonna win the prize for the least sleep.” Funny but also tough and not to be taken for granted. A MINUS