Alex E. Chávez is known as a “borderland sonic theorist”. He not only writes and performs music – most notably as a member of the Chicago-area band Dos Santos – but is also an academic, the author of Sounds of Crossing: Music, Migration, and the Aural Poetics of Huapango Arribeño. His love of music composition and performance and his passion for ethnomusicology resulted in his first solo album, Sonorous Present. It began as an improvised performance in 2019, inspired by the music and poetics of that award-winning book. It eventually came to life thanks to the assistance of a variety of musicians and Chávez’s longtime friend, producer Quetzal Flores.
Anyone familiar with the music Chávez made with Dos Santos – including deservedly acclaimed records Logos (2018) and City of Mirrors (2021) – knows that Chávez seems particularly attracted to unique mixes of genres that don’t easily fit into neat categories. Additionally, on Sonorous Present, his interpretation of traditional musical genres is bolstered by the appearance of field recordings, which add to the cinematic feel of this striking album and an original spoken word portion by renowned author and poet Roger Reeves. Due to the unique mix and execution of all the elements present (not to mention the sheer talent and dedication of all the performers), Sonorous Present is a richly rewarding and often astonishing sonic experience.
The gentle folk of “Luz”, which opens Sonorous Present, immediately sets itself apart from what the listener may expect. Alex E. Chávez’s crooning over acoustic guitar, followed by immaculate trumpet swells, is complemented with subtle yet trippy synthesizer notes. In the single “Cómplices De Luto”, Chávez’s vocals are combined with those of Laura Cambrón and are joined by deeply felt strings. The LP was significantly inspired by the deaths of Chávez’s parents, as well as his sister, which dramatically heightens the sense of emotion he brings to these performances.
The spoken word poetry written and recited by Reeves brings a compelling and comforting sense of cohesion to the album. It opens the track “Communique” and is also featured in the epic “Dirty Hands” – a track also aided by elements such as distorted, pulsing bass lines and sophisticated horn charts – as well as “Malagueña”, “Cuerpo Presente”, and “The Shadow”. The odd, lo-fi samples in “Dando Los Dias” bring an almost surreal element to the song, and the sweet, lilting grace of “La Bruma” is oddly offset by the crunchy, distorted quality of the underlying percussion. Furthermore, field recordings in songs like “Odessa” bring a heightened sense of immersion for the listener.
Alex E. Chávez’s Sonorous Present deals extensively with grief, and the emotion is palpable in songs like “Refugios”. The song feels like a Latin-tinged take on a 1950s American soul ballad, with Martha Gonzalez’ vocals pushing the grief over the brink. Sonorous Present is referred to as an elegy. It’s a word that may take some people back due to the sadness implied. However, in an interview featured in a mini-documentary about the record’s making, Reeves explains that “often, we think of elegies as commemorations, as moments of sadness, but really, an elegy is about the praise of something. You can’t mourn something you don’t love”.