Rosa Bordallo, formerly Manett, returns with her second solo outing Isidro. This album brushes on subjects of her home in Guam and issues affecting the people and islands she is from. When I learned that the Chamorro, which she identifies is politically divided between the United States territory encompassing the Commonwealths of Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands in Micronesia, I naturally thought something political might be on the cards. From this, what was I expecting was maybe a series of verses, shouty in nature, presented by a rabble of irksome male youths, just out of ‘the young offenders’ institute’. It took no time to realise these initial thoughts were wrong, as Rosa Bordallo is an artist classified as Indie-Rock and as I pressed play was presented with a heavy dose of sugary melody and the shouty verses, controlled and well-tamed by Bordallo’s vocal technique. The first number proper is ‘Home‘, a lament perhaps, as Bordallo sings “I heard from home today, it made my heart so sad…“, that sugary melody doing what it was supposed to, driving the number without question and political, addressing as Rosa puts it, “…the profit driven war games, menacing our land…”. This is politics, with sunshine applied, something which is far from our rain-soaked land. Although not to take this too lightly, the politics that affect these islands, and its people, are far more complex, not just militarily, but with the issue of climate change . With subject matter ranging this far, I suspect I am in for one hell of a ride.
‘Forest Honey’ continues the album, with its simple yet engrossing melody at the front of this number. This time what I hear is a love song, perhaps of a former lover, a lover not forgotten. Following this is ‘Rogue Wave’, where the tempo is dropped, as Rosa continues on the theme, “I don’t regret those last words said, just the way it was framed by your cold refrain…”, the aftermath of a break-up perhaps. I adore the timing offered in this number, a waltz, in which brushed beats and strings all play their part. That there can be such a simply timed number followed by what comes next is amazing. ‘Crasseux’ is packed with so many opposing beats that it’s glorious; this is when I realise these are less protest songs than they are detailing the subject of love and loss. Perhaps it’s a dig at something stupid that might have occurred and certainly a reminder that everything we do is open to another’s interpretation. If you don’t want to have these things written in stone or made the subject of a songwriter’s muse, then watch where you step.
Halfway through the album now, as ‘Leavetaking’ introduces a playful element to the mix, Bordallo asking “…will it ever end…?”, continuing “…I have good news for you…”, accompanied by a jolly tempo, strange electronic beats, that end with the songwriter’s looped laughter. I’m sure many will remember hours spent playing on their Nintendo, as ‘Cycads of Micronesia’ breaks the silence, with its spirited backing and simple runs, conjuring thoughts of Mario and Yoshi battling side by side, or perhaps saddle, on the SNES. As this instrumental reaches its conclusion, the fun gets better as Bordallo’s vocals cut through the familiar musical backing, when ‘Silk Moth’s Revenge’ is brought to the fore. Musically this lifts thoughts of lost love, as this tiny larvae’s vengeance is painted in a claustrophobic sub-4-minute tune, with repetitive drums navigating to ‘Buried Treasure’, the penultimate track. Here a breathy Bordallo returns to her home, walking on familiar ground of love and loss, as a simply strummed melody rings out. The final song, ‘I Feel Numb’ is possibly one of the album’s finest moments and longest tracks to boot. Beats play alongside the song’s melody, which bubbles like an egg in a frying pan up until the final seconds play out, and with the album’s playtime – a little over 30 minutes – all that is left to be done is return to the start and enjoy once again.
