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When a music project showcasing Maltese music includes the names of Kelma Kelma Nota Nota stalwart Daniel Cauchi, music maestro Kris Spiteri and the input of Kelma Kelma’s Michael Spagnol and the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra (among other familiar and respected names) great things are expected.
Happily, great things are exactly what Kafena delivered. At its basic made up of the aforementioned Cauchi on vocals and Spiteri on pianos and keys, the band recently launched its debut album, Lukanda Propaganda, to a packed two-night event at the Robert Samut Hall in Floriana.
On both nights, they performed the whole album, accompanied by members of the Malta Phil-harmonic Orchestra and Red Elecktrik’s Peter Borg on electric guitar; and on both nights they performed to cries of enthusiastic cries for encores.
And it’s easy to see why. Kafena’s music is old school, that brand of Maltese sound that takes us on a wave of nostalgia. But there is one massive difference – it lacks the cheese that too many of its predecessors threw at the listener in spadefuls.
Actually, make it two differences; the topics tackled by the band achieve a versatility that, again, many others before it lacked. There’s love, sure. But there’s also a cutting social commentary that tackles topics far tougher and definitely contemporary. And, for me at least, the latter elevate Kafena from being your typical humdrum release into something much finer.
The album kicks off with the feisty Il-Marċ ta’ Efrem Sammut – boisterous, seemingly jolly, but with definitely dark undertones in the lyrics that contrast with the happy-go-lucky refrain: Libbsuni stilla, sejħuli Lhudi/Kitbu numru twil fuq ġismi, ġo ħabs ġew isakkruni.
The second track, Għaliex, once again presents a rather sombre theme that is belied by the fast-paced arrangements – an exercise in catchy musical arrangements that will be en-joyed without the necessity of pondering over the lyrics.
An evocative foray into the nostalgic side of Maltese music
Things take a definitely more introspective turn with Poeżija, a ballad that slows down the tempo considerably, with witty turns of phrase in what is almost an interlude before what I consider the pezzo forte that lent its name to the whole album, kicks off. Lukanda Propaganda has it all – a fast-paced intro with a whiff of the western about, frenetic riffs, a seriously catchy refrain and, most of all, lyrics full of mischief – Ġol-Lukanda Propaganda tista’ tgħum ġos-swimming pool/Jekk int lest li tiħu stessu mal-ministru mhux fit-tul... (At the Hotel Propaganda you may use the swimming pool, as long as you take a selfie with the minister). Scarily apt for the times, wouldn’t you say?
A Tempo di Tango is next, a deliciously jazzy piece with the familiar strains of the classic tango running throughout. It is very easy to picture this one being played in the old Pjazza Reġina in Valletta, the dancers striking their dramatic poses – but even here, the lyrics come with a cutting commentary about the rarity of the artist mhux imbagħbas mill-ħtieġa li jrid jogħġbok jew jedukak (the artist that remains uninfluenced by the need to please or to educate).
The tempo takes a couple of steps back once again with Għallimni, another ballad that is a straightforward open love letter and that gives way to a very poignant piece titled It-Tfal ma Jaħtu Qatt. One of the most eclectic pieces on the album, the track starts with a very straightforward riff and slow-paced lyrics, before evolving into full-fledged, orchestral fineness. As for the lyrics, let’s just say that they will strike a chord with those who look at the ever-increasing number of 10-year-olds who look like they’re 16...
Ħudu Gost offers more social commentary guaranteed to raise a nervous titter or two, with some nifty bass from Eric Wadge. Il-Funeral tal-Lingwa Maltija follows – do not be deceived when the initially insistent bass gives way to a mellower sound; this track has a lot to say. The album closes with Victoria, the most effective love story on the album, somehow reminiscent of Riccardo Cocciante’s Margherita in spirit, if not necessarily in sound.
Recorded at Railway Studios, Lukanda Propaganda presents an evocative foray into the nostalgic side of Maltese music, amply proving that there still is a market for well-crafted, traditional arrangements and lyrics. Oh, and finally, do keep an eye out for Steve Bonello’s excellent illustrations on the album.
The album and launch concert were made possible thanks to the support of the Malta Arts Fund and the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra.
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