Umoja Orchestra: Where Everyone Wins
Words: Morgan Morillo
Photo: Morgan Morillo

Appeared:
Abre La Puerta Release Party
February 16, 2008
Common Grounds, Gainesville

Abre La Puerta is the sophomore album by Umoja Orchestra, a group that has become a household name in Gainesville for their irresistibly danceable rhythms and “Umoja Means Unity” vibe, which feels like everybody’s invited to their party.  They play with a stylistic sophistication and playful ease on stage that exceeds their youth and sells out shows at Common Grounds.  Their newest CD recorded live as a group is a high energy, collaborative effort between musicians who cooperate like old friends who finish each other’s sentences. 

Drummer Evan Garfield says Umoja tries to be thoroughly inclusive, even to the point where drum fills that may be slightly off made it on the album as a conscience choice.   “It’s who we are.  I really think that’s what we sound like,” he said referring to the final cut of Abre La Puerta.  Even on stage, when someone messes up, they laugh and keep on.  In a similarly all-embracing fashion, Umoja’s music embodies a diverse cultural repertoire of musical styles.  Many songs experiment with modal Afro-beat grooves, big band horn lines, and lyrics, which are folkloric in the Latin tradition.  For example, “Bahía Portete” was influenced in part by Scott Bihorel playing a guaguancó, or Cuban rhythm, on the congas, followed by Sebastián Lopez, vocals and guitar, writing lyrics inspired by a massacre he’d just learned of about the Wayuu people in Bahía Portete, Colombia. This track, among others like “Talkatalk” and “Indocumentado”, (where Sebastian plays the accordion), tell a story on many levels, and just on the surface, they stimulate a dance party in moments. 

For the most part, Abre La Puerta, or “open the door”, is action-packed. On the title track, Michael’s bass line is a worthy backdrop for Scott Clayton’s masterful guitar part, and in El Verano I, Natalia Perez’s alto vocal harmony shines.   But there are a few quieter moments that provide a striking contrast.  Jason Prover, trumpet, wrote a four-part horn interlude that was recorded by Jesse Hale of Futureman on the cello, but my favorite is the final track.  “Yo y Tú y Tú y yo,” was recorded by Michael Pedron in his bedroom with a “mbira” (West African thumb piano), an upright bass, and a cup.  It is peaceful and astute in the vein of Brian Eno, and Michael thinks of it as the album’s closure when you finally “exhale.”  It leaves me wanting more, but it’s a sweet goodbye like one at a party that’s winding down and the guests are all going home in anticipation of the next fiesta.

myspace.com/umojaorchestra