If you’ve ever been inside a store that sells incense, or received a gift from an aunt who wears wooden jewellery and patchouli oil, you’ve probably come into contact with the Putumayo World Music series of compilation albums.
My first encounter was while working in a daycare. Most of my experience there was in the two-year-old room; a place that served up cuteness and chaos in equal measure. Time essentially stands still when you are watching toddlers chew on books and grab each other by the eyeballs. You go through what feels like a full day’s work, only to look up at the clock and discover that it’s only 10.30am.
Nap time, though, was an oasis of calm. The cots would come out, the lights would go off, and the soothing, globe-spanning sounds of Putumayo’s “Dreamtime” would send the kids off to sleep. I would sit there, patting two little backs simultaneously, and try my best to stay awake myself. It became so Pavlovian that to this day, if I hear this Angelique Kidjo track my eyelids will start getting heavy.
I hadn’t thought much about Putumayo in the years since working at the daycare until just recently, when at my mother-in-law’s house this charming little song by Emilíana Torrini started playing. I’m not sure how – the folksiness of it? the trace of accent in her voice? – but I just knew it was from a Putumayo album. I walked over to the CD player and sure enough, there was the empty case with the telltale Putumayo artwork.
Before it was on a Putumayo compilation, this song was released on Torrini’s excellent 2005 release, Fisherman’s Woman.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. Torrini’s voice. Her background is equal parts Icelandic and Italian, and while her English is probably better than mine, her voice contains that magical hint of Icelandic-ness that makes singers like Soley and Bjork so entrancing.
2. The lyrics are phrased as a letter. I’ve always liked letter songs. They give the illusion of being allowed into a more personal corner of the singer’s life.
3. In the chorus, as she sings the words “…on the sunny road” there’s a wonderful and unexpected Phrygian shift in the guitar. The Phrygian mode, as explained nicely in this video, has appeared in everything from Metallica to Missy Elliott, and is recognizable by the second degree of the scale being a semitone down from where you’d expect. On her Fisherman’s Woman album, Torrini seemed to have a slight obsession with the Phrygian: the first three tracks, including this one, contain a wonderfully uneasy Phrygian moment.
Recommended listening activity:
Nap time, regardless of age.