Our Latin Grammy week continues with an Uruguayan pop-rocker.
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Jonathan Bogart: A tough, flexible voice made for better things than this one-chord chug.
[5]
Alfred Soto: A sweet closely miked power ballad reminiscent of early Jill Scott, marred by uninteresting verse melody.
[6]
Iain Mew: In my efforts to learn Cantonese I have watched quite a few Hong Kong TV drama series, and developed an affection for their multi-purpose approach to their theme tunes. They have a song with a strong melody, they use variations on it for nearly everything: sad scenes, dramatic scenes, romantic scenes, maybe as an actual plot point. “Corazón Diamante,” with its own strong melody and dramatically shifting moods and scales, makes me imagine someone forcing every variation of one of those into a single song.
[6]
Juana Giaimo: The artificiality of “Corazón Diamante” isn’t just confined to the chain of generic metaphors, but also in musical clichés: a guitar solo reflecting the grandiosity of love, backing vocals to confirm the glory of finding that love or endlessly extended vowels used to express how deep and intense the emotions are.
[4]
Thomas Inskeep: An achingly beautiful slow-burn, like Jeff Buckley with a commercial burnish. Rada has a glorious, clear, strong voice perfectly suited for this midtempo groove.
[8]
Megan Harrington: Rada commits to rocking softly, like warm Downy whispers, and rolling gently, like a balled up t-shirt you’ve owned since college. At first “Corazón Diamante” sounds doomed to boring acoustic balladry but glistening strings and plinking keys are quickly introduced, whisking the song from an unfurnished room to an imaginary garden. There it’s lush and warm and Rada unhinges, roaring her tale of love. It’s a delicate balance to strike, all the familiarity and comfort of a song that rests firmly on the middle and all the heady rush and excitement of love, or lust.
[7]
Madeleine Lee: I love how this song unfurls, setting up expectations with its own melody and then undermining them, or hanging just long enough for Rada’s voice to get ragged.
[7]
Edward Okulicz: The sudden shifts in mood put me in the mind of that feeling when the flow of a show or movie is upended by a gunshot, an abrupt change in camera angle or a character rising from the dead. As if brought back to life, Rada attacks the second half of the song with vigour, rising to genuine power in the last 50 seconds. The gentle parts of the song are not just comparatively boring though, they’re just boring.
[6]
Will Adams: There’s an implicit determination behind titling a song “Diamond Heart” that never fails to speak to me. Rada’s resilience is woven into the music, which grows like ivy over an unmoving chord, until she triumphs over it in the song’s final minute, landing on one of the sweetest endings I’ve heard this year.
[8]
Brad Shoup: Rada’s wordless vocalizing and the guitar line form this amazing sharp harmony in the climax; it could have gone on for another three minutes. It’s mechanical ecstasy: a gutty entrenchment after a midtempo march.
[7]