Hector Zazou

Songs From the Cold Seas (Columbia)
by Chris Adams

Before I begin, lemme bitch a little. The object of my aggression is the phrase “world music,” which strikes me as an offensive, arrogant generalization. It’s like every fucking record company marketing team got together and decided that there’s only two kinds of music – standard Western stuff (rock, jazz, blues, and country) and “all that other shit from the rest of the planet” which is subsequently tossed in the “world music” heap. Not only is this an insult to anybody with half a brain, it’s a coarse, tactless slight to the countless musicians who didn’t have the good sense, apparently, to be born in the good ol’ US of A or another English speaking country. If ya feel the need to categorize into two distinct groups, I’d recommend that ya try something like “stuff I dig” and “stuff I don’t dig.” It’s subjective, so it’d be as ultimately meaningless as “world music” and a lot less presumptuous ‘cos I don’t give a shit about your paltry opinion any more than you should about mine, or anybody else’s. As far as the record companies go – well, they really should make an effort to avoid living up the their well-earned stereotype as annoying, clueless jerkoffs. (Alright, I’m done now.)

For what it’s worth, in my collection, Hector Zazou‘s Songs from the Cold Seas is my most recent addition to the “stuff I dig” section. Zazou’s an accomplished French composer/producer/keyboard player who specializes in creating evocative, thematic albums (example: his “Sahara Blue” addressed Rimbaud’s poetry in a buncha different languages). Thematically, Songs From the Cold Seas deals with the nautical traditions and myths of such disparate regions as Siberia, Sweden, Japan, and Finland, to name but a few. Although I’m not familiar with a lot of artists featured on the album, a few names are instantly recognizable (Bjork, Suzanne Vega, John Cale, Jane Siberry, and Siouxie Sioux of the Banshees.) Stylistically, the album’s as diverse as the cultures from which it draws inspiration. However, a common thread shared by the record’s ten songs is a haunting, almost eerie sense of mysticism, accentuated by “unconventional” percussion and chant-like vocals. There’s also a heavy reliance on some masterfully created atmosphere, but if ya stripped it away the songs’d still be there. In turns, Songs From the Cold Seas is daunting, sexy, intriguing, hypnotic, and, in some places, pretty terrifying. Tired of verse/chorus/ verse/guitar solo banality? This is the record for you. My fave of the month by a long shot.