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Seventh Truth
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Released: 1996 Tracks: 12 Total Time: 56:58 Musicians: Aziza Mustafa Zadeh (Piano, Vocals, Congas) Ramesh Shotam (Drums, Percussion) |
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| Back to the roots… for her fourth album, Aziza comes
back to solo performance. Not that she ever had left her roots, since
they seem to be everywhere where there is music. Still, after her
collaboration with other musicians on Dance
of Fire, with this album she returns to her initial
premise of solo compositions on piano, some accompanied by her voice,
others instrumental only. It is fair to say, I think, that it is also a
thematic return to her home country: not only are 3 songs based on
Azeri classics, Aziza also expresses in a new, very explicit degree of
political awareness, her relation to Azerbaijan and the fate it has
suffered.
Interesting about this work is the fact that while her lyrics are confessional and thus almost exclusively personal, she also sings for the first time in English (and has the lyrics printed inside the CD-booklet!) Aziza reveals herself to the world, no longer only through her music but also through her lyrics. While this “global” thinking might be a fact to be welcomed, some fans expressed serious concern about the album’s cover… does international recognition come at the cost of a personal sell-out? Posing more or less unclothed on a CD-cover isn’t exactly the kind of exposure we had in mind from a first rate musician, is it?But
to my surprise I discovered that Seventh
Truth is a very spiritual work, without any doubt Aziza's most
personal album. It makes sense to echo a spiritual exposure on a visual
and even textual level. jazziza,
her next album, will be totally different, both cover-wise as well as
from a musical perspective. Therefore, I find the outcries about the
cover rather short sighted and silly. If people can’t differentiate between
artistic expression and capitalistic interests, and will shun Aziza in
the future, it is entirely to their disadvantage! At the outset of the opening song
we hear one bar of congas — or, are they kalangoo? What is this,
Africa, India? — until we get the fanfaric chant of a female
voice, in a muezzin-like, invoking quality which takes us to the Middle
East; but where? The piano joins in, partly employed as a percussive
instrument, partly adding those very typical mugam-aziza-like trills,
and now we recognise the place: this is Aziza’s playground! And she is
calling out to her beloved: “Ay Dilber,” Hey, my
Beloved! (For more details on the lyrics click here). The
song centers around one major key, with generally few harmonic
variations. What drives this song along is its absolutely electrifying
beat (Aziza plays the congas, supported by the fabulous Indian
percussionist Ramesh Shotam), Aziza’s soaring voice entering realms of
pure joy, multiplied into one final climactic scat. No matter how many
times I listen to this, I just can’t help going into raptures… Laçin breaks with this upbeat mood completely. It is a low, subdued, sad, minor key waltz about an impossible love. The change from three/four to six/eight to five/six speeds the song up and adds another, seemingly more hopeful dimension to it, until the beat falls back into 6/8 and its initial three/four and we realise, even without understanding the lyrics, that the lover’s hopes were in vain. The next song, simply called Interlude I, is again in three/four, though this time much faster, a real waltz, although in minor. The piece is classical in its harmonies, and shows Aziza’s liking for romantic composers such as Chopin and Rachmaninov. A beautiful short “finger exercise” leading the way for Fly With Me: a thunderstorm, rain, a light breeze, soft cadences, and the singer’s plea: “Follow me, if you want to know how to go through the fire wind — I will show the way.” It is a song about magic, love, choice, and about the adventure to free one’s potential. And Aziza is the guide, at once temptress (“Take from my hands / Sweet magic poison…”) and in need of companionship (“Let me stay – in the maze of love / Never leave me alone”). Suddenly the song pauses briefly, to gain new momentum, and it changes into Azeri, into a veritable invocation, a prayer to her home soil Azerbaijan. |
It is not simply a political statement but also a hymn to
the curative power of song and music itself, and the astonishing thing
is, that the message gets across even without understanding a word of
Azeri! (For a detailed explanation of the lyrics click here). Another
confessional song, Desperation is less desperate than its
title might suggest. It does lament the state of loneliness, more
precisely the state of being torn between the need for someone and the
realisation that this beloved will eventually be left for her love of
music. The singer is aware of the pain she causes her beloved, yet she
has no choice: she is wrapped in the power of music, which is a feeling
unlike anything else: “Unbelievable this feeling / Unexplainable my
thrill / How beautiful my life is / When music’s born again / and born again…" It is,
therefore, angry determination to survive this desperation more than
anything else that shapes the song, as is underlined by its nervous beat
as well as Aziza’s scat accompaniment. A
true lament is the following piece, Daha, another love
ballade, and again, Aziza’s harmonies and her singing are almost more
eloquent than the beautiful lyrics. I think this is one of Aziza’s
most beautiful pieces ever, and though it is clearly “sound
engineeringly enhanced,” it shows that Aziza has done a lot of vocal
training since her first album was released. Compared to, say, My
Ballad, in this song Aziza is able to expresses so much more feeling
through her voice. Obviously, this isn’t only a question of technique,
but more of… experience of life? And so this sad song ends on a
wonderfully hopeful Ab Major chord. Another
dedication to her father, Vagif, is I Am Sad. It is a very
slow and subdued, melancholic piece that does with almost no tempo runs.
But it is exactly this modesty that gives the composition a very
intimate and almost meditative character. It is reminiscent in style of
the tracks on her first album, but while they were impressive first and
foremost because of Aziza’s awesome technique and speed, this one
shows that Aziza has become much more calm and composed, no longer in
need to impress her audience but able to express also the very silent,
personal feelings, no matter what. The
very short Interlude II gives way to Wild Beauty,
another song based on an Azeri classic (as are Ay Dilber and Laçin).
It is a 7/8-based song with Aziza singing, playing piano and congas. With
Seventh Truth we get to the title track, which is a
dialogue with God and a plea to “light up my way to / The Seventh
Truth / Holy truth.” One has the feeling that it is a plea for a truth
that the singer has already experienced. Whatever it is, the answer lies
at the end of a spiritual path. And truth does not prevent one from pain
or doubt, or from monsters… What
a wonderful album... Seventh
Truth is probably the most introspective of Aziza's
albums. It is fiercely emotional, at times overflowing with joy, at
times abysmally sad and mournful, revealing an artist torn between the commitment
to her music, her destiny as she calls it, and her surroundings, and yet
feeding from both in order to live and create... |
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