Canter Bridge

It would be possible for music lovers who do not know this Spanish diva-of-sorts to mistake Como la flor prometida as just another B-class Iberian cd whose best moments ought probably not fly too far from the Iberian peninsula. That would be dead wrong.

Luz Casal virtually stuns with an eclectic zig-zag from track that could almost be considered bizarre but which succeeds at every moment in revealing yet another facet of the lady’s artistry. Luz is a force to reckoned with.

The dark, almost angry sound of the title track belies the yearning, hopeful desire to see an unnamed little girl grow up song and full, como una flor prometida:

Ella es pequeña como un ciempiés
ella será tan alta como un ciprés
fuerte como un huracán
y buena como el pan.

Ella sabrá ser el hielo y ser un volcán
no sabe bien por qué
su mente y su piel
tienen prisa por crecer.

Sabrá que si, sabrá que no
tendrá lo malo y lo mejor
flor prometida que nació
cantando con su propia voz,
sabrá luchar si hay que luchar,
cerrar los puños y grita
o resistir al temporal
cuando las cosas vayan mal.

Ella será tan dura como el metal
ella será tan frágil como el cristal
sabia como algún refrán
y libre como el mar,
ella será como azúcar y como sal.

Sabrá lo malo y lo mejor
flor prometida que nació.

The tension between form and message might have seemed eccentric enough to consign the singer to the ranks of hopeful poseur employing raw emotion a bit too lavishly were it not for the tonal upswing from there. Admittedly, you work your way first past the bitter irony of Capitulo acabado, memoir of a love too short for recording. Then ears are treated to the lilting, beautiful Entre mis recuerdos, a tune that suggest that Luz has worked through a fair amount of emotional carnage to get to the point where she can sing these songs with a gentle smile rather than a snarl.

She begins to grow on a listener, not just for the clarity of the things she says but for the increasingly humane and textured way in which she speaks them.

Yet t is not a moment for getting comfortable with this CD. Arguably the anchor of the album, Lo eres todo is an emotionally absorbing cri du couer that draws one powerfully into the memory drama that it portrays. Luz sings out her heart’s regret here with a bluesy passion worthy of a very fine artist.

The complexity of her lyrics and unpredictable marriage of them to the music that she sings lends a kind of art-house flavor to Ms. Casal’s work. I picked this CD up in the Madrid airport in 1997, when Luz was still unknown to me, and have not bought another. For this reason, I can’t say whether this facet of her artistry is typical of her whole range.

Regardless, Como la flor prometida with its luz oscura, luz diversa, luz múltiple is Exhibit A of the case for English-music listeners to expand their range.