Mama Rosìn (Switzerland)
Brûle Lentement (2009)
13 tracks, 33 minutes
Bandcamp ∙ Spotify ∙ iTunes
It’s taken me a long time to getting around to writing about zydeco or Cajun music, right? Some of that is down to the randomised way I’ve been picking which album to write about next, but it’s also because I really don’t know too much about the genre, and as such, I’m not really that acquainted with its crucial canon. But it’s still a style that I really dig, and this particular album is, I reckon, a great example of it, if perhaps not one for purists. It’s just a little embarrassing that my zydeco representatives here are not some old guys from the Louisiana swamps and bayous, but a trio of Swissmen. Ah well.
Quickly: what are zydeco and Cajun music? They’re the folk music of the French Creoles in Louisiana. To my ears, the styles are very similar, the main difference being that zydeco is the music of the black creoles and Cajun the music of the white creoles (I’m 1000% sure this is incredibly reductive if not outright wrong, so if you know better, please do jump in the comments and let me know! I know where my next avenue of research needs to be…). The heart of both styles is the accordion, which is played in a very recognisable way – for me it sounds like sawing wood, but if that piece of wood were somehow profoundly musical*, especially when it’s joined by a scratching fiddle, which it usually is. There’s also the washboard providing scraping and clacking percussion; all together it sounds like some very involved DIY going spectacularly and funkily wrong. As far as the musical form itself, I see it as analogous to blues and country music, and zydeco and Cajun music have borrowed liberally from those genres in very audible ways. If you want some key players, check out Clifton Chenier for zydeco and the Balfa Brothers for Cajun. It’s good stuff! And maybe next time you ask me, I’ll be able to give a more informed answer.
Aaaand back to this album. Yes, Mama Rosìn are three young white guys from Switzerland, but that doesn’t stop their zydeco from being red hot, to which the striking, Velvet Underground-esque cover alludes. The very first sound you hear as you press play is that unmistakable sawing accordion, pumped to an even higher degree by a slight distortion. It’s this distortion that hints at what’s to come. Because this isn’t old-time traditional zydeco. Mama Rosìn play the style with a raw blues-rock edge that occasionally verges into the liberated chaos of punk, by way of the occasional honky-tonk or country ballad. The instrumentation shows it too: there’s no getting away from that accordion, but there’s no fiddle to speak of and the washboard is imitated between the kit’s snare drum and a triangle, giving the opportunity for those deep zydeco rhythms while allowing the range to go absolutely crashing with cymbals too. The most important thing, though, is the feel of it. It doesn’t matter how much into the rock or blues elements the group lean, they never lose that atmosphere of an out-and-out party. It’s loud and noisy and boisterous, but it’s all played with huge smiles on their faces – no affected surliness here. It’s just a great time; a real Louisiana shin-dig, crammed into just over half-an-hour. And one that just happens to be from the middle of Europe.
Zydeco and Cajun music are really ace. They’re the most recognisable American styles sung primarily in French, and occasionally they’re like R’n’B played on the accordion with a folk fiddle and some crazy dance beat going on. Really, what’s not to like? There’s a whole scene out there, with recordings stretching back way past a century to the modern day, but others can recommend those areas much better than I. I just know that Brûle Lentement is a great album – and now you know it as well!
* Bach, lol.
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