Everybody sings at home – some around the house and most of us in the shower. Not so many of us however, write songs and record them at home, but that’s exactly what young musician Adolf Formosa does, and at an incredibly proficient rate too.
It’s a lazy Sunday morning, and I’m at Adolf’s pad, both of us mulling over a vital cup of coffee with Donovan playing in the background. This choice of music is most welcome for anyone who doesn’t like rude awakenings, and it also sets the tone for the music that I would be listening to later. After a casual chat about other artists peddling similar wares, Adolf slips in the first of his several recorded works.
Entitled The Small Philodendrons, it’s credited to Philein, an alter ego that Adolf tells me is Latin for love. The CD features 10 tracks, spanning a period of about 18 months. This, however, doesn’t reflect the true picture, firstly because Adolf had written many more songs but obviously had to decide which ones would make it onto the album; and secondly because the date of completion, February 2003, was determined only by Adolf’s time spent abroad and the availability of recording facilities.
It is immediately obvious, from opening track Roxana Knows, incidentally the first song Adolf ever wrote – that he likes his music pretty raw, as in unfettered and simple. Most of the songs he writes are stripped down to guitar and voice, and he only succumbed to a dash of light percussion and other subtle trimmings at the producer’s insistence. The producer, by the way, is Peter, better known as one half of Hunters Palace, the band that Adolf occasionally plays drums for. As Adolf explained to me, the songs here have a produced feel which he had to get used to, especially since recording vocals and guitar separately wasn’t as intimate as doing it all in one take. In the end, however, it all comes together, and to the listener, the result is a calming collection of intimate songs, spearheaded by songs like Black Tobacco, 9 Hour Delay and Given The Chance.
Intimacy is in fact what Adolf treasures most in his music, and having acquired a decent four-track recorder, he was able to capture the element of spontaneity in his music, sometimes recording a song even as he was writing it. This was not, however, the method employed for his next collection, The Loev Lids. The four-track EP, recorded in April/May 2003, features bass accompaniment by Oliver Degabriele, of One Dead Poet, Etnika and God knows how many other bands. The four songs (inspired by a break-up) are melancholic but sparkling, culled from the same lo-fi quality that have now become a cornerstone in Adolf’s personal style. To an extent, his music could also be therapeutic, particularly when they carry as much emotion as Please or How Alone Can Lonely Be.
In goes the third CD, an 18-track collection that Adolf explains is two albums’ worth in one, recorded in November and December 2003. Its cover draws my attention, a detail of a portrait that Adolf made himself. In fact, the choice of covers is an important element in finalising his albums. The first one had a picture of a Guatemalan child (taken during his stint over there doing voluntary work), and the second has a photograph of bass player Oliver, Adolf and the girl in his life at that time. Given that his albums are only distributed to close friends, each cover is carefully handmade, giving it a more personal touch that enhances the intimacy contained within. It reminds me of UK band Tindersticks, who used to package their own records before distributing them to shops and record outlets, except that they sold theirs.
On this self-titled collection, the music, while retaining the acoustic approach and its sparse trimmings, sounds more optimistic; its melodies more developed. Adolf laughs at my remark, telling me a couple of the songs were actually recorded on a hungover Sunday morning. Nevertheless, songs like opening track Sundown, Setting Sun and Walking With Four Feet are pretty good examples of this. Towards the second half of the CD a different mood edges in, one more tainted with blues and country elements, and the occasional experimental drift. It’s the closing track, Gethappinessrollin that sticks in my mind. Its rambling melody has a sing-along quality to it, and I can imagine how some well-placed harmonica would fit right in.
I am curious as to why Adolf hasn’t yet taken his music to the public. It isn’t commercial, that much I’ll admit, but there is nevertheless a following for this alternative brand of acoustic music. “The main reason”, he tells me, “is that I haven’t felt confident enough to do it. Furthermore I think I’d prefer to have a band to do this live”. It would give the songs a new angle, although some of them may be better off untouched. I also point out that some of the songs may not work live, to which he agrees, adding that some of the songs are in fact not really finished. Still there’s a considerable wealth of material to choose from, so it shouldn’t be that hard a task. Harder perhaps, is getting the band together, but that’s to worry about later..
On to Adolf’s fourth and most recent CD – recorded earlier this year, it kicks in...I mean eases its way in with the title track, Bag of Fruit and a string of equally lulling numbers, including Day Of No Turning Back and Letters To The Sweetheart, where Adolf is at his most comfortable and confident. Like his other recordings, Bag of Fruit is still pretty raw and laced with melancholy, although this is not necessarily always the main vibe feeding the songs. Compared to the other collections, it reflects a more evolved sound, a possible indication that Adolf is edging closer to a more defined direction, although I still think that, once other musicians are brought into the equation, more changes will probably follow.
So, where to go from here? “Well, I’m always busy working on more songs for a new CD (pause)...(pause)...oh, and hopefully, some live gigs if I get round to it!”
And knowing Adolf, there’s no telling when, where or how it will happen – it just will!