13938372_1187221004632101_3181558456578511960_nWell, this is different, but that’s a good thing right? As you join Browlin on his musical journey toward the titular border of his albums title, you realise that the border isn’t necessary that Tex-Mex river crossing that seems to readily spring to mind. The border in question is more likely to be much further south in a Latin-American hinterland as those southern rhythms infuse the subtle and supple Americana top line of the record.

Let me draw a line connecting South American street parties with Morricone’s apocalyptic western soundtracks, another from Santana’s west coast latin fusions to Detroit’s funk groove and then many more connecting places and thoughts, music and stories that have no business being connected. Stare at the pattern of the lines for a long time, and then shut your eyes. The stars dancing behind your eyelids is the music of this outstanding musical fusion.

In short it is timeless in that it can’t be pinned down to any era, it is evocative and nostalgic without tugging unnecessarily at too many heartstrings, it is fresh without trying to be fashionable and it is effortlessly experimental without seeming to try too hard to be clever, though a wonderfully clever musical creation it certainly is.

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Musician, scribbler, historian, gnostic, seeker of enlightenment, asker of the wrong questions, delver into the lost archives, fugitive from the law of averages, blogger, quantum spanner, left footed traveller, music journalist, zenarchist, freelance writer, reviewer and gemini. People have woken up to worse.

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