Stripping back an arrangement to just bass and voice can make for a spellbinding moment of intimacy. Kamalamba is an album-length exploration of that moment. The title refers to the Karnatic tradition of Indian classical music, but this is just one of a constellation of different vocal styles explored on this album – often within the same track.
Brochet's background as a musicologist perhaps explains her magpie-like fascination with this spectrum of vocal styles. It is certainly impressive to hear her shift from Karnatic melisma to neo-soul scatting on opener ‘Kedaram’. But the transitions can be jarring, and Brochet's undeniable stylistic and linguistic mastery occasionally comes across like the irrepressible accuracy of the classroom swot. The album is at its best when it settles into a run of Latin and jazz-flavoured tunes after ‘Folhas Secas’. Bassist Philippe Aerts cuts some fine solos but, like all true masters of his instrument, he is largely content to support and enhance Brochet.
This is ultimately a successful experiment in the raw power of the voice, but it might have benefitted from a more focused field of investigation.