Album: Saint &
Sinner
Artiste: Vince
Costa
At times, writing reviews can be the easiest thing in the
world. With the internet at our disposal and plenty of forums on which one can
air their views, everybody is a critic. But what happens when instead of
reviewing it as merely music, you allow it to become a part of your very fibre?
Do you merely review it as the end product of an artiste, or does it become,
well, ‘more’? This is the very conundrum I am faced with when it comes to
dealing with Vince Costa’s debut album, ‘Saint & Sinner’.
I was first introduced to this album by Costa himself, and
my views on it, I have since not voiced. A quiet listen to it at his
Curtorim-based recording studio (aptly titled Serendipity) left me with a sense
of pride, primarily because I felt that this was an album which could have been
produced straight out of Nashville; it just has that folksy (but not chintzy)
vibe to it, that immediately makes you think of Mayberry, sitting on the front
porch, sipping ice cold Cherry Coke. This led to me badgering him for a (then
unreleased) copy, as I felt that the album would make a great travelling
companion on my upcoming travels, and it did not disappoint.
Kicking off the stack is ‘Think Now’, a song I
instantaneously fell in love with. With a bold brass section punching its way
through the silence that precedes it, the song builds into a vibe that is
relaxed, yet it effortlessly retains one’s attention through lyrics that are
provocative in thought. “Seeds when watered don’t just grow. Sun must melt the
hardened snow. Everything has its rightful place” are lines that make you
realise that it’s never really too late to stop, pause and wend your way in a
direction of your own choosing. Followed closely by the second track on the
album, ‘December’, it is almost as though the following track picks up where
its predecessor leaves off. However, ‘December’ is more introspective and
nostalgic, while delving into the area of one’s personal choices and not
knowing what direction one should head in. Thus, while ‘Think Now’ is generic
and provokes a larger number of people, ‘December’ is more personal and
intimate.
A common feature on the album is the appearance of names
that almost address a certain kind of familiarity. There is the tale of Imelda,
a woman on the brink of taking her own life, until Costa’s furtive plea to
“Leave a light on” sets in. In similar vein, Costa addresses a child named
Emily, who is vulnerable and in need of protection, a situation that he
immediately steps in to mend lyrically. ‘Paper and Pen’ moves on to touch on
similar issues, amalgamating various worst case life scenarios that weigh
heavily on us, with hope being the only thing that keeps us going.
A common trend that is noticed across genres is that even
artistes that aren’t based in America use locations in America as a reference.
In similar vein, Costa has a track titled ‘Alaska’ on the track list. Yet, it
is about so much more than geography. The song uses Alaska as a means of
addressing escape. Alaska seems far enough to go to for someone who’s leading a
tunnelled life in an urban setting. While the main character may want out, it
doesn’t serve as a viable option, and thus he lets his mind wander to Alaska,
which, for reasons unknown, brings him peace. This brings me to my favourite
song on the album, ‘Captain of your Heart’. The song is nothing short of a
ballad to a loved one, which moves in an out of several genres; be they
country, folk or reggae.
What is remarkable is the attention to detail on
instrumentation. Every bit from the brass section to the string section has
been organically sourced, with varying contributions from members of the local
musical fraternity. I think it’s safe to coin Vince Costa as the warrior for
the cause of local music, his weapon a handcrafted axe (aren’t we fortunate
that guitars are referred to as that) made in America, the very place who’s
music following he aims to conquer.
