Las Historias Que Han Dejado

Latin America’s folk fusion traditions share common roots in Spain, West Africa, Poland, France and other Old World cultures, often carrying an indigenous signature – an instrument, a rhythm, a timbre – that denotes the local milieu. On their third album, French-based Argentinian duo Aguamadera (María Cabral and Marco Grancelli) sound equally at home performing a Venezuelan joropo or Peruvian waltz as they do the chacareras, huaynos and zambas of their homeland.

On songs about a flower-seller, motherhood, sadness, an exile’s perilous journey and death, they intone in a beguilingly meandering, cascading style against the basic trot of a strummed acoustic or the trill of a cuatro. Crisp enunciation reminds us these traditions derive from storytelling and intimate fireside song-and-response. Grancelli has a slight tendency to over-perform, adding pop ballad ersatz ‘passion,’ when the strength of traditional music resides in restraint and repressed fury or sorrow (reflecting, arguably, the status of the communities from which these words and music sprang). Cabral is the real deal, and though she hails from the subtropical lowlands of the Misiones Province, her sweet yet pained, youthful voice emulates the manner of many Andean women singers. When bass and percussion are added – as on ‘Cuentapesares’ – the whole package can be powerful and stirring. What is also noteworthy about Aguamadera is that, while they cover standards by celebrated folcloristas like the Carabajals with maturity and confidence, they focus mainly on their own material – which is just what South American folksong needs right now.