Review
A lone trombone drifting through live pedalboard delays and the sparse punctuation of Satie-like piano keys lay the groundwork for Kalia Vandever’s Mana. Departing from the expansive modern jazz of their celebrated quartet recordings, the composer’s International Anthem debut constructs an intimate improvisational sanctuary rooted in their Hawaiian ancestry.
The album's defining pivot is the prominent arrival of Vandever’s own singing voice. Intertwining wordless brass melodies with literal lyrics, they bring a stark vulnerability to these quiet electroacoustic meditations. Writing for AllMusic, Thom Jurek notes that Vandever’s "multi-octave vocal adds dimension, texture, and atmosphere that is aesthetically akin to Elizabeth Fraser of the Cocteau Twins," asserting that this "simple presentation underscores their control of the many stylistic and sonic nuances." It is a fearless aesthetic leap that The Wire likewise celebrates, observing that Vandever "has never sounded more assured and in control of their many strengths" as they fold brass, voice, and electronics into a deeply spiritual framework.
