Etcetera’s big wave

A series of emotional previews later, I’m concluding now that the artiste Etcetera sounds like the sexy Enrique Iglesias. That’s a new one, right? Of course. I agree with the man who says, if you didn’t know Etcetera or just didn’t like him at first sight, please do not let him strum his guitar or sing a tune. It’s at your peril if you do. Something hooks you and you begin to hear voices in your mind. Immediately, you’ll liken him to Tracy Chapman, the one whose voice blows a light breeze in your ears and caresses your back. A long list of other superstars will follow. Now, if you listen to Iglesias’ Hero and some of the 15 tracks on Etcetera’s self-titled first album, you’ll probably see the connection. His power, apart from the turn-you-into-jelly voice and dexterity on strings, rests in the freshness. He brings into his performance an uncommon style, which combines rock, R&B, and soul. He calls it “soft rock”. And it becomes extremely potent because he adapts it effortlessly to the local culture. Whether he’s singing about love or war, the stories are easy to relate to, and, in this class, we could name tracks such as Land of the Rising Sun (Biafra), This Is Not a Song, Michelle, The Only One for Me, Daughter of Eve (featuring Oriri, whose album is taking too long in the lab), and Miss H’s I.V. I’ve asked him twice if he thinks he sounds foreign — imported. He is not bothered about that. Now, I understand why. The music shocks at first. But it grows on you. And then you catch the virus. It’s a complicated sound, though. The progression of rhythm is not predictable, although you might find a track or two with similar melody. With repeated listening, you might also discover the numerous instruments pulled together to pull this off. Etcetera’s second album is ready. Even the third, too. That’s right; he has that many songs. But one thing, I’d really love to hear the guy more clearly. That appears to be the only snag.