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Bordering Tensions
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Calexico:
Feast of Wire
Quarterstick, 2003
Rating: 4.2
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Posted: March 2,
2003
By
Laurence Station
Urgent restraint. Oxymoronic? Certainly. But that contradiction in
terms is all too appropriate in describing the latest album from Tucson,
AZ-based Calexico. All of the disparate threads that made the band's
previous releases undeniably intriguing but wildly scattershot musical
affairs (Ennio Morricone-meets-Miles Davis-meets-magic realist Latin
American author Carlos Fuentes) come together on Feast of Wire, a
potent mediation on capitalist expansion at the expense of the lower
classes and the disenfranchised. But this is hardly a violent,
call-to-arms revolution. Rather, the simmering, low-key tensions of the
powerless are brought to life through their most powerful weapons: Time
and patience. Multi-instrumentalists Joey Burns and John Convertino, the
Calexico brain trust, successfully marry this thematic conceit with their
trademark eclectic sonic restlessness for one of the year's strongest
releases, and easily the band's masterwork to date.
Through an even mix of eight instrumental and vocal tracks, Feast of
Wire explores the desperation, hope, cynicism and worldview of
Mexican-American outsiders, illegal immigrants and itinerant laborers,
lost souls without the will or the means to confront the shamelessly
exploitative Free Trade/Maquiladora operating corporations head-on, opting
instead to take a road less traveled. In "Sunken Waltz, " a carpenter
walks off his job, builds a flying machine and takes flight from his
unrewarding lot in life. The protagonist of the spare, acoustic "Not Even
Stevie Nicks..." takes more extreme measures, driving his vehicle off a
cliff. Here, however, momentary escape into the wild blue yonder gives way
to reality (and gravity, of course) as his body is found amongst the
vehicle's twisted wreckage. And the brothers in the stunning, brightly
horn-laden "Across the Wire" attempt to escape from a life of crushing
poverty for the land of plenty, only to spend most of their time dodging
border guards. The power to dream, to imagine a better world where
opportunities are fair and plentiful, and to rebel, no matter how modestly
or seemingly inconsequentially, defines the reserved yet restless nature
of the people Calexico celebrates in these songs.
But Burns and Convertino don't merely paint a picture of doom and
gloom. There's hard optimism in "Woven Birds," in which forgotten ruins
are rebuilt brick by brick, bringing about not only a cultural rebirth but
a reawakening of the surrounding natural beauty as well. And "Black
Heart," despite grim lines like "Things are stuck inside my skin,"
effectively utilizes strings and a stirring rhythm section to convey an
epic sense of impending, apocalyptic change against appalling injustices.
The notion of urgent restraint makes its strongest impression on the
instrumentals numbers. Racing strings, jagged guitar lines and stunted
trumpet breaks infuse "Close Behind" with an restless apathy, the feeling
that an important meeting or luncheon will be missed if one doesn't hurry.
But the energy just isn't there to provoke action. The sense of restraint
struggling to break free is best typified on the penultimate "Crumble," an
expertly controlled frenzy of intricate beats, jazzy horns and
mariachi-flavored rhythms. Devoid of any lyrical crutch, the track ably
conveys the album's strongest theme: All things must pass, be it
NAFTA-born, labor-exploiting manufacturers or the landfills steadily
encroaching on the homes of those without a legislative voice.
Calexico's union of sound and language is the true triumph of Feast
of Wire, an album that flows with the ease and confidence of a band
that has clearly found its voice. And despite serving up some of its
grimmest lyrics to date, Calexico certainly isn't wallowing in despair.
Like the band's ever mutating, rapidly evolving sound, change -- be it
political, social, or both -- is inevitable. Those individuals patient
enough to wait for the system to fall in on itself, to eventually fail,
can look forward to a day when the people on the lowest rungs of society
rise up and build an altar of hope where once an impenetrable fortress of
exclusion stood.


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