Album Review: Ëda Diaz– Suave Bruta : electro – Colombian rhythms and song for today.

Bridges are not just about the places and people they connect, crossing them is an experience in itself. Colombian singer/bassist and song-writer Ëda Diaz’s music is a thrilling reminder of the wonders such a journey can deliver. As a child she shuttled regularly between Paris and Medellin with her French Colombian family, absorbing the languages, traditions, sounds and cultures as she grew. No wonder then that the integrity of her music today absorbs the richness of both worlds.

Not that finding her musical identity has been easy. For a long while she camped out in the Western classical field, studying piano at the Conservatoire de Boulogne Billancourt before eventually realising that the concert pianist was not her. The influence of the boleros and bambuco, salsa and afro-cuban song was too strong, the rhythms too fundamental. As Diaz admits at this point ‘The double bass saved me’. On switching to that instrument she not only tuned into her creative groove but reclaimed confidence in her singing.

So Ëda Diaz’s music in many ways defines genuine fusion. It’s beyond interpretation of another sound, it’s something that as a musician she has lived with and still inhabits. From her first EP release ‘Ëda‘ in 2017 through to 2022’s ‘Tutande’ her vibrant electro-acoustic songs have been spiced with salsa, danzon, bullerengue and currulao flavourings then simmered to an EDM glow. With those ingredients her debut album ‘Suave Bruta’, out now on Airfono/Earthly Measures, arrives giddy with promise and as you’ll soon find out definitely delivers.

Working once again with producer buddy Anthony Winzenrieth, ‘Suave Bruta’ strides confidently into motion with the slinky electro-pop opener Nenita. It’s a song that also featured on the ‘Tutande’ EP but is now buffed up for extra shine and sharpness. The foundations may be those insistent, infectious currulao drummed beats, a smokey vocal from Diaz and a zinging, melodramatic hook but there’s plenty of hyper-pop maximalism added. Auto-tuned call outs, snippets of piano and some rumbling pulse beats could all sound frantic but under the Winzenrieth/Diaz watch, Nenita comes extra fresh and vital.

Sabana y Banano takes similar energetic twists and turns, pumped by brisk glitch rhythms and a funky bass curl from Diaz but smoothed by the singers expressive vocal phrasing. A song that on the surface moans at the prospect of getting out of bed on a miserable morning it also digs at making choices and not following the status quo, a reflection that seeps into a yearning, dreamy coda. There’s a real subtlety here, a layering of emotions matched by the detail of the music. At one point a clarinet sample from the seminal Colombian orchestrator Lucho Bermúdez adds a sombre breath to the dynamic.

The storming cumbia cajun stomp of Tiemblas features a less disguised accordion loop from Rafael Escalona’s enduring classic La Casa en el Aire. Bumping and bouncing with quirky invention it sits alongside Meridean Brothers’ psych-cumbia statements found on their inspired ‘Paz En La Tierra’ album. That comparison with the Bogota collective threads through to surreal stories the Diaz songs often unravel. On Tiemblas it’s a trip to the Amazon jungle, befriending a guide with a wooden leg plus haunting proverbial truths (‘You can catch a liar quicker than a lame man‘), that all bring an unsettling Lynch-like duality to the upbeat grooves.

Such musical samples and folkloric references stoke the album with a real sense of cultural connection. That intention is reinforced by the collection’s title. ‘‘Suave Bruta’ is a famed song by the great Colombian balladeer Joe Arroyo, whose music Diaz remembers was key to the soundtrack of her family home. No surprises then that the emotional swell of ‘El Joe’ intensity seeps into her debut on the waltzing resonance of Lo Dodo or the urgent, surge of Por Si Las Moscas where Winzenrieth’s sensitive electronica adds subtle uncertain shadows.

Throughout ‘Suave Bruta’ the effortless agility of Eda Diaz’s voice always grabs attention. It can skip around the excitable beats of dance pop on Tutandé, clipped and clear between the cut ups. On the crooning Dulce de Mar it brings flowing authenticity to this avant pop curio, while for the pared down Brisa her vocal is beautifully delicate, feather light and soothing. During the bustling up-tempo cumbia of Al Peso her voice almost smiles at you in a whirling tribute to a neat hair-do. It’s a song busy with ideas and in touch with street life, snipping scissors and quick-fire chit chat all in sync with the fabulous percussive blow out. A video waiting to happen here maybe…

Such an experimental drive raises ‘Suave Bruta’ well clear of both formulaic Latin pop and restrictive folk typology. You only have to check out the dreamy chanteuse collage of the closing number Déjà-Vu for proof. In bridging traditional currulao/cumbia sounds and her Parisienne eclecticism Eda Diaz joins Lido Pimiento and Elbis Alvarez in an ever-fluid Colombian underground. Listening to Olvidemos Mañana, as it somehow dives into techno banger mode via Laurie Anderson-like polyphony and you feel the song’s lyrics ringing true. “Oscillate between now and now” Diaz sings, “let’s release the brake”. That speaks for this whole album- forward thinking, aware, respectful but never going in reverse.

Get your copy of ‘Suave Bruta’ by Eda Diaz from your local record store or direct from either Earthly Measures HERE