Coca Tenorio, Cold Like Stones. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

To be held in thrall by a language and music that you might not fully understand is to know deep in your heart that you have compassion, intrigue and fascination, the prospect for learning, not as is the case may be with some who moan and make derogatory remarks under their breath, for they have no scope, no hope they are in the end as Cold Like Stones to the plight, outlook or experience to one who is different to them.

It might only be a language, a vocal separation in to which one person’s declaration of love is another’s perceived insult, a verbal handshake disguised to harm not praise and yet to hold on tight to your own language is offence in itself, you don’t allow for growth and change, the flexibility of your own naked tongue in the generations following up behind you.

It is to embrace such words of passion, that makes Coca Tenorio’s voice rise and please the ears, and alongside the Spanish acclaim in the music offered, these words of eulogy, approval and admiration come riding out to greet the listener as if bury a hatchet that was only sharpened through misunderstanding and reckless confusion.

It is perhaps in the unexpected places that love can conquer and free the spirit, that words said in a positive and encouraging way can lighten the mood and find a spark of bouncing resonance wherever they may go, whether that is in English, to which some of the tracks on the album are sang in, or Spanish, Russian, Italian or any other language in which the essence and decree of the words are there to enlighten, to grab hold of the listener’s inhibitions and ask just to be adored.

The Jazz, Rock and Folk fusion that is evidence across the Afro-Latin rhythms stand out in the presentation and in songs such as Nobody Knows, Kiss The Mountain (Home), El Testigo, Loca Por Tu Amor, Estrella Fugaz and Angel of the North, that spirit of coming together is more than we possibly deserve or could hope for. We find ways to disapprove and mock other’s language, in listening to and taking in the words and painted world of Coca Tenorio, we are not committing the sin of being as Cold Like Stones.

Ian D. Hall