Box of Breath

Album review

The fifth album from the New York collective is an homage to all the assets that foreign cultures bring to the culture of the New World. From Crust of Bread, the opening track of this work that certainly doesn’t lack any strength, the beat is supported by a West African balafon (a wooden percussion instrument) and the Malian griot Balla Kouyaté. Further down the line, a fanfare of brass worthy of the Carpathians rubs shoulders with a guitar which sounds like it comes straight from Memphis, Tennessee, as well as a Fulani shepherd’s flute. The whole thing is topped with an intoxicating voice that sounds like it comes straight from a club in the French quarter of New Orleans. This intoxication persists throughout the whole album - the blues are dominant, with its African roots and its celebratory blossoms. The wailing cries of both Wade Schuman’s voice and his harmonica don’t stop him cracking a smile, wryly at times when not plain to see. Groove reigns supreme on the album, and it’s not unusual at several moments to want to get up and dance. But it’s not all frenzied excitement: there are calmer moments, like Dark River, where the banjo sways like an old clock, the singing is tender and the the harmonica trembles before letting its power explode. At the surface of this sombre river, the moon itself also ends up smiling. Finally, these great explorers transport us to China to a pre-concert rehearsal, filled with swaggering bluesy improv. © Benjamin MiNiMuM/Qobuz