VASCO MARTINS

Ben Libem

self-released (2003)

no album cover art available at this time

reviewed by Bill Binkelman

Vasco Martins, a musician from the island of Cabo Verde off the western coast of Africa, has released one of the most hauntingly beautiful recordings of sadly nostalgic music I've heard in a long time. Tinted throughout with Mediterranean influences (Martins is of Portugese descent) via the style in which he plays his acoustic guitar, this is music that will grab your soul and tug at it with obvious sincerity. There is not a trace of faux sentimentality or emotional falseness on this CD, which is full of music that speaks of genuine longing, regret, and unabashed romanticism. Easily equal to the best "slow" music from Chris Spheeris, Ben Libem (which, per the liner notes, is "a nostaligc touch of Morna" i.e. a form of traditional music from the Cape Verde Islands ) should blow away fans of Spheeris, Suzanne Ciani, Yanni and other neo-romanticists. Honestly, this is one powerful album!

Besides his acoustic guitar, Martins also plays piano, synthesizers (used both as subtle shading via strings and also in more direct ways, hence the comparisons to both Ciani and Yanni) and also "percussion loops" (there are slow tempo rhythms scattered here and there on the album). Guitar and piano (both played with uncommon skill and passion) trade off on carrying the lead melodies, along with an occasional synth here and there (such as on "dôs temp p' um valsa" where a hand bell-like synth takes turns with piano). The music is always slow in tempo and frequently lush synth strings bring a fullness to the sound that elevates it to near cinematic elegance (check out the great opening to "tarde d' marce" where the strings and a plaintive acoustic guitar weave a soft sad spell).

Those of you who are prone to shun "world music" should not be disuaded by my allusions to Mediterranean influences. Yes, sometimes the guitar has a pronounced Portugese/Spanish sound to it, but Martins is so adept with his various keyboards (as he was on previous albums like Sublime Delight and Apeiron) that this is much more a "fusion" recording than straight-forward world music. Personally, I love world music so this wasn't an issue for me. I think, though, that new age music fans will be seduced by songs like "nascente d' ága" with its swelling strings, muted percussion (high-hat cymbals brushed and struck), and dramatic piano. "pa longe um ta bai (b)" (there is a part "a" as well) has a fluid watery opening with some of the best synth work on the album, and the piece soon becomes a somber acoustic guitar number.

I'm probably reading more "melancholy" into this music than Vasco Martins intends. His use of the word "nostalgic" could just as easily be interpretted as "with fondness" or "sentimental." Take my bittersweet/sad reaction to the music with a grain of salt. I'm a melancholy (and even morose) person sometimes. But, regardless of whether Martins' beautiful and romantic melodies evoke sadness or smiles, it's undeniable that the music on Ben Libem is truly of the inspired variety and is as heartfelt a recording as you're bound to hear in 2003. If you remain unaffected when the strings are folded in over the piano on the title track, well, you've got a cold heart, my friend. I give Ben Libem my highest recommendation. This is an outstanding album and while it can be enjoyed as background music, I'd play it for a loved one, in a room lit by candlelight, and bathe in every luxurious note.