Las Lloronas: Out of the Blue album review — close harmonies that swerve from flamenco to klezmer

Out of the Blue is a quiet album. Amber in ‘t Veld, Sura Solomon and Marieke Werner harmonise in murmurs as if a fraction of an inch from the listener’s ear; Werner’s clarinet produces slow klezmer curlicues; guitar and ukulele thrum quietly. At moments of high drama, Solomon may add far-off piano or a burble of accordion. For the most part, unless Mateusz Malcharek is bottoming out the sound on double-bass, that is it. And yet, there is drama to be found.

The three women — Spanish-Dutch, Belgian-American and German, respectively — are based in Belgium. Their nimble close harmonies recall their Flemish countrywomen Laïs, but Las Lloronas are more varied stylistically than that group’s galloping folk rock.

The 40 minutes of Out of the Blue swerve from flamenco to jazz to klezmer to chanson and spoken-word poetry, sometimes within the same track. “Naranjos”, for example, starts as a Spanish folk song about oranges and seagulls, pine trees and mountains, fields and rivers, before the scene shifts to an urban streetscape with asphalt and street lights. Switching to French, the narrative moves again to a dance between two wandering Jews, with Solomon singing a few lines of the Jewish prayer “Avinu Malkeinu”.

This flows into “Lonely Bird”, an angry yet calmly recited poem about both the impossibility and inescapability of poetry in a time of political turmoil. “Now what’s the point of picking up the pen,” demands one of the women in English, “of writing out my sentiment, my rage for this populist game played in our name . . . ?” But this is met with clarinet, guitar and a countervailing sung refrain: “When the lonely bird is singing down the river . . . I start to see that my sorrows disappear”. By the end of the song, the poem has disappeared and the refrain is no more than the three voices twisted round each other like braided smoke.

★★★★☆

‘Out of the Blue’ is released by Muziekpublique