Album Review: Calexico - Algiers

The back story behind Arizonian alt-country veterans Calexico's seventh album Algiers seems on the surface slightly misleading. Named after the New Orleans suburb where the record was recorded and which supposedly provided total inspiration, the album doesn't sound miles removed from everything they made back in their usual stomping ground of Tucson, so one can only assume that the inspiration was creative rather than aesthetic. There's no blues stomps or second line ragging, mainly more evocative sketching of the cinematic, dusty vistas that have made them so beloved for so long.

Calexico have always been a musical melting pot anyway – fusing together disparate sounds such as alt-country, jazz, folk and mariachi into one indie-friendly concoction – so the skilful pans of horns in Sinner In The Sea and the mournful tone of Maybe On Monday (the two songs most closely attributable to their Louisiana locale) seem perfectly natural for their aesthetic. Gorgeous opener Epic and gorgeous strings of Para aren't miles removed from the tone of 2008's Carried To Dust, while Puerto continues their love of Mexican folk (even if set in the Dominican Republic).

Calexico are often assumed to be Joey Burns' vehicle because he's seen out front lending his silken vocal tones to proceedings, but the importance of his long-term confidant John Convertino can't be understated (here or elsewhere), his subtle but expressive brushwork giving Burns the broad palette on which to construct his solemn odes, here driving the title track in particular with his adroit drumming.

Algiers may find Calexico exploring a different rural frontier, but it hasn't detracted from (or noticeably abetted) their delightful allure. Once again the desert has never seemed so hospitable.