L.A. Salami is a name that at first glance may seem both exotic and enigmatic. In reality there is no mystery as it is simply the shortened name of the London musician Lookman Adekunle Salami. If instead we turn to the question of what kind of music this musician produces, things get slightly more complicated, especially with the release of his third and most recent album. If the previous works in fact showed a singer-songwriter with strong Dylanian influences and similarities with artists such as Tallest Man On Earth (speaking of followers of the minstrel of duluth) and Conor Oberst, with the new “The Cause of Doubt & a Reason to Have Faith” L.A. decided to broaden its horizons, opting for a freer gaze, able to move between genres according to his expressive needs. From a musician who can easily be labeled he has thus become the classic artist who makes it difficult to be pigeonholed into his identity.
An attitude that often is a polarizing one, able to fascinate those who admire its adventurous and eclectic spirit, but also to repel those who suspiciously see it as smoke skillfully placed to a scarcity of substance.
I do not deny to belong to the first category, but also if I try to objectively observe Salami’s career, I think that we can reasonably say that this creative gap was necessary for him. With previous records the Londoner seemed like a typical talented singer-songwriter, gifted with a remarkable voice but who nevertheless risked being confused in the group and unfairly doomed to a career of brilliant anonymity. Maybe something was missing and he paradoxically looked for that quid in undressing the reassuring clothes of a singer-songwriter and wearing the more uncertain ones of a multifaceted artist; in short, to summarize in a word, perhaps what was lacking in LA was a bit of ambition, like what we can finally find in “Doubt & Faith”.
Ambition is a double-edged sword: in fact it happens many times that an artist is reproached for not being able to dare and then when he finds the courage, he is advised to be more humble …
Personally I tend to appreciate the risk of failure more than the cradle of safety, but obviously it depends on the final result. So let’s see what this attempt by Salami led to.
The ambition we were talking about is manifested right from the title, “The Cause of Doubt & a Reason to Have Faith”, which alludes to the existential and spiritual dilemma “par excellence”, and then continues with the small number of songs: only 7, for most, long tracks except for a one minute snippet. A great risk because if you have few bullets you cannot afford empty shots!
And the record immediately starts with an explosive cartridge, the title track of over 10 minutes. After an intro that recalls the songwriting roots with guitar and voice that delicately fade into a cloud of keyboards, the real song starts, showing itself as a soulful ballad in mid tempo that lean on steady drums in the foreground and on the expressiveness of Salami’s voice by Salami, whose falsetto seems to recall Benjamin Clementine.
But it is only the substrate that L.A. uses to put his sound strategy into action: the piece is masterfully developed to keep the attention awake throughout the whole song duration.
Thus, for example, the melodic core is repeatedly broken by sudden breaks: at first an intimate one where the drums leave room for the voice wrapped in background sounds and then a dreamlike one with piano and harmonica interventions; the core is also diversified by different arrangements or vocal lines like quasi-rap singing. close to talking in the central part of the track. These are tricks used in a functional way to a continuous, albeit non-linear crescendo that leads to the electrifying climax, represented by the final section in which an almost tarantulated Salami continually repeats “that’s a reason to have faith”, accompanied by an electric guitar, a lancinating harmonica and effects that cement everything before everything fades into a final of voices in the background.
In short, good shot! The target is hit and shunk and we got a song that alone makes the whole album worth listening to. Also because the song itself (together with the last one as we will see) presents itself as a programmatic manifesto of the new artistic phase: more than that of an artist who departs from his past, he starts from it to make it germinate into a new and vital fruit.
But let’s look at the rest: “When you play God” is a folk ballad built on a lazy guitar arpeggio and on a very effective vocal interpretation: the two main elements are counterpointed by the notes of a piano that seems to come from afar, by an insistent pizzicato violin and by interventions of scattered drums. Everything takes on an alienating atmosphere thanks to the ghostly and reverberated production that slowly with the advent of an ambient keyboard absorbs until the song itself disappears.
After a short piano fragment of pure soul mold, comes “Dear Jessica rabbit”, a song that develops around a rather monochord melodic line and a very soft bass line, but again the very dense arrangement is the real secret weapon: in addition to the “usual” elements (piano, guitar and various echoes and reverbs) it is even worth noting the use of a typewriter and above all the disorienting contrast between melody and dissonance.
It is then the turn of the most rock and most immediate piece of the lot, “Things ain’t changed”: on a base of roots rock guitars and sustained drumming, Salami rattles off, with his excellent vocality, a catchy melody that this time it is supported by a decidedly more canonical production with piano, organ and keyboards to reinforce the piece.
But it is only an episode because with “The cage” you change again and this time the Londoner raps seriously, in a long hip hop song made hypnotic by the flow of Salami and by the obsessive sampling of the flute. This is the album’s key track that reveals how the art of assembly and accumulation, implemented along the arrangements of the entire record, draws from the lesson of hip hop that has always nourished itself with these characteristics.
The album ends with the reinterpretation of a song by the same author present in “The city of Bookmakers” of 2018. “The Talis-man in the age of glass”. An auto-cover with which Salami seems to claim and remark its own artistic identity, despite the conquered stylistic eclecticism: as if to say “I am the same but… I am no longer the same”. From the original simple folk ballad for voice, guitar and piano, the track becomes an all-round song: if its skeleton remains the same guitar arpeggio, it is surrounded by a rhythm consisting of both drums and a chatter of drum machines, by a piano definitely freer than the original one and with soft keyboards that enlarge the texture. The voice then no longer follows the cliché of the Dylanian singer-songwriter and is not afraid to show itself in all its black shades; the final paradox is finally the harmonica, which from a typical acoustic folk instrument is transfigured into a piercing and reverberated scream, emphasizing precisely the distance from the acoustic and songwriting approach.
At the end of the album we can say that LA Salami proves to have an “artistically” wide enough stride to allow him to dare without tumbling and which testifies to the desire not to remain a prisoner of the folk singer-songwriter label: in addition to his ability as author and to, already known, talent as interpreter we are pleasantly impressed by his ability to enhance the songs through a production that enriches without suffocating the melodic essence of the songs, giving them a singular and personal atmosphere.
Therefore, mission accomplished! But you know, ambition calls for ambition and a satisfying album like this already raises expectations for the next works for an artist who is a candidate as one of the most interesting possible characters for the near future.
By Mason
