Haoloto

With half-Tokelauan, half-Tuvaluan bloodlines, Te Vaka headman Opetaia Foa’i was born in Samoa, moved to New Zealand as a child, and is currently based in Australia. Te Vaka are truly pan-Pacific: other group members boast Maori, Cook Islander, Niuean and European ancestry. Since forming in the mid-90s, Te Vaka’s collective heritage has been one of the main reasons the group has been so successful in building an admirable reputation for presenting strong, energetic displays of Pacific culture. A creative ear for combining traditional styles with contemporary arrangements hasn’t hurt either, nor has the Foa’i family’s flair for savvy self-marketing. Haoloto (Free) follows the established pattern of Te Vaka’s other five releases, but the sound here is fuller, the log drumming is more urgent, the female voices are more assured and Foa’i’s songwriting is in top form. At times it’s very gentle, such as the tranquil ‘Mau Piailug’, where Opetaia pays tribute to the renowned Micronesian navigator of the song’s title and his Polynesian voyages. Sometimes it’s explosive, as it is on the percussive-driven ‘Tolu Afe’ and ‘Talanoa Te Pate’. Occasionally it’s mournful: ‘Toe Fetuaui’ grieves for those lost in recent regional earthquakes and tsunamis; ‘Haoloto’ is respectfully dedicated to the relief workers who helped out during those disasters.

Without a doubt Te Vaka’s warmest, most satisfying album to date, the only clunker is the English-language ‘Well… You Lied’, which sounds like a B-grade version of ‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’. But that maudlin inclusion doesn’t dent the overwhelming positivity of this impressive Pacific release.