Juana Molina

Son

[Domino; 2006]
by Alan Ranta

Juana Molina's unique, flawless form of Argentinean post-folk is at once both haunting and
captivating. It's haunting in a way much darker and weirder than that dream
where you're naked at work or school and captivating like a
semi-cheesy tragic romance flick, the kind Hollywood used to make back when the
hero sometimes died, the kind that you just can't look away from even though you know
it'll make you cry. This is Son, her third such album and first to be
self-produced. It's truly remarkable how a guitar, various non-American
instruments, and some sparse electronics can sound so unbelievably rich. "Malherido"
best exemplifies all of the imagery I've so far mentioned, with its typical mix
of native folk instrumentation, ambient production, and ethereal vocals sung
exclusively in Spanish – one of the most beautiful languages to hear, but
one that remains largely unknown to me. As such, I don't know what she's singing
about, but I know how it makes me feel... soothed and fulfilled, through every
fiber of my being.
According to Lisa Simpson, Pablo Neruda said "laughter is the language of the
soul" (if he heard the meowing on "Un Beso Ilega," he might've rethought that
one). If this is held true, music is surely its voice, and the sound of Juana
Molina's speaks louder than any mix of words. Son should stand as one of the
most beautiful and inspiring albums of 2006. Not bad for a reformed actress, eh?

1. Río Seco
2. Yo No
3. La Verdá
4. Un Beso Ilega
5. No Seas Antipática
6. Micael
7. Son
8. Las Culpas
9. Malherido
10. Desordenado
11. Elena
12. Hay Que Ver Si Voy