Real estate maxim/cliché: You can change everything but the view. Howe Gelb is the view. Over the course of his long career, Gelb-- either as a solo artist or more frequently with his band Giant Sand-- has dabbled in folk, country, alt-rock, gospel, and most combinations thereof. At the center of this shifting guitar music is Gelb's flat sing-talk. Gelb's voice is distinct-- a concrete-gray, nasal uttering-- but it's his dry, funny rambling that has attracted a mild cult following. His latest album, Alegrías, credited to Howe Gelb & a Band of Gypsies, is another changing-of-the-drapes renovation, a soft left into flamenco-tinged gypsy folk that was recorded in Spain with a group of Andalucian gypsies (including, notably, guitarist Raimundo Amador).
You might think this sort of far-flung collaborating (Gelb hails from Tucson) would produce results notably removed Gelb's past, but the singer's refusal to bow to his surroundings is arguably his artistic strength. It's important to note that Alegrías isn't an album of traditional music: It's closer to "Howe Gelb hangs out with some gypsy musicians and they make Howe Gelb music." Gelb even pokes fun at his sonic wanderlust, dryly singing, "I walk around like I own/ The sound of cowboy boots on cobble stone." One of my favorite aspects of Alegrías is that Gelb all but drops the gypsy conceit when it suits him, the arrangements veering back toward the type of cracked-sidewalk acoustic picking that is his default form.
Still, this is a nice fit. The music's natural rhythmic shiftiness and floral accents balance Gelb's heavy-lidded charm without overwhelming him. In the realm of middle-aged-guys-mumbling-poetically, Gelb lacks (has always lacked) David Berman's precision or Aidan Moffat's liver, but he's self-effacing and casual. He favors scenes over stories, observation over revelation. Unlike a lot of his peers, Gelb has never developed a cult of personality (early, out-of-print Giant Sand albums are currently being reissued to shockingly little fanfare). He sort of represents the median of smart underground songwriters, in part because his songs never even attempt universal truths or gushing emotion. He has never seemed on the verge of breaking out, and it's easier to appreciate Gelb's career in sum. Alegrías is a pleasant stylistic diversion, another in a long series of non-revelations. That's Gelb's appeal: a guy, a thoughtful guy, who won't press you into adoration, even when he deserves it.
