The last peacenik

Irish expat Sean Powers and his brand of cool pop jazz simmering on the airwaves may be the last feel-good, give-peace-a-chance music of the new world order, i.e., post-9/11 and post-fall of Taliban and Baghdad, when the only fashionable thing to do is be aggressive and talk with a big stick.

As such the steady, unbounded and very laidback rhythms of Ibo’s third album, of which Powers again is the prime mover, could come across as an anachronism were it not for the unquestionable impeccable musicianship, that though indeed things may veer toward the mawkish and prosaic, Ibo saves the day and most of the night as well with the right chord combinations. Like boxing.

What another Sean, John Lennon did in his lyrics and attitude (such as the love-in with Yoko), Powers now does through his Moog sounds and sheer consistency in coming out with an Ibo album every summer for the past three years. It seems then that the season is not complete without an Ibo release.

Like in the previous two albums, Powers focuses on the lady vocalist backed up by a more than competent band, a revolving ensemble of which only the core of Powers, keyboardist Victor Oria, and sound engineer Dodjie Fernandez is maintained. But I Carry No Stick has also the habit of developing its own sukis, as in the increasing presence of vocalist Rowena Michael, and the utter restraint of the guitar solo by Johnny Alegre in the title cut.

Vocalist Judith Alegarbes too makes a worthy encore, a kind of stabilizing factor, particularly in the song, To Think That I. In the song ...And I Remembered, the CD’s closer, she renders a spark of recognition to the listener, how very Zen it can all be.

It’s Michael however who carries the vocal torch, so to speak, in five of the songs, including the single This Could Be. Michael’s voice is sounding better than ever, has grown and shed the baby fat in her debut Dyna album of some years ago.

There’s a whole lot of loving going on in these songs, and Powers has the good nature to step back and enjoy the vibe while it lasts, from the funky playful First Night in Beijing, to the percolating trombone work of Ronnie Marqueses in I Carry No Stick to at least two other cuts, playing counterpoint to the lady vocalist.

And while Alegre plays on only one cut (I guess Sean could stand him only for so long), his role is well-defined, as are that of the other players, from bassist Kim Lesaca, to drummer Alex Fidel, and to the whole batch of Ibo 3 who cannot help but do Powers and Fil-Irish jazz proud, not that we can readily put a finger to this music.

In fact Ibo might be playing with our heads, washing the atmosphere with the ethnic, ingenuously indigenous Lumulutang, to more funky broadsides like Expandurmind.

When you listen through it, you get the feeling that not a cut here is wasted, and much joy went into the making of this CD, many hours of reading into that blue vein.

Meanwhile, deep on the other side of an ocean, from Brazil comes the vocalist Monica Vasconcelos, perhaps a blood relation of former Pat Metheny percussionist, Nana Vasconcelos.

In Oferenda by Vasconcelos and her band Nois, the lambent sea-swept side of Brazil is given ample coverage by Vasconcelos’ more than ample Brazilian voice, singing the lyrics in what could be Portuguese.

Many things both bright and derogatory have been said about Brazilian music, from its being too topical (meaning, not only in lyrical subject matter but also musically, as if samba could not adapt to the seasons), to the good news that has given us the likes of Astrud, Joao (name of every three or four Brazilian males), Flora Purim, Lani Hall, Airto Moreira and Sergio Mendez. We are not sure if the aforementioned are actually Brazilian or Portuguese citizens, but they certainly come across as South American or old world denizens.

The matter of Oferenda is not that it is pleasant enough, and Monica might through voice alone charm you out of your pants, rather the band Noir occasionally makes for a thin constitution, like there were an instrument or two missing.

It’s not even a fire or passion that’s missing, because Vasconcelos has a lot of that, albeit in reserved tone, and listening to her is like staring into the eyes of a caged animal.

Vasconcelos does a version of Bobby McFerrin’s Thinking About Your Body, which is a trifle successful. The stakes are higher in the songs which she co-writes, like Saudade Blues and Dance, Will You?

Vasconcelos is not the next best thing in Brazilian music, but she fills a hole in our life, and so much the better are we rewarded for hearing the hole in the sound of her band, Noir.