We met Alba Morena as a possible “new Maria Arnal” (pardon). Her mind wandered through tracks from her self-produced debut, such as ‘Como en un mar eterno’ or her take on Mecano ‘Quédate en Madrid’. The artist born in Salou in 2000 and based in Madrid continued experimenting with minimalist electronic music in little jewels like ‘Nadie’, ‘Yo te quiero pero’ or her celebrated collaboration with DeTeresa.
In recent years the anti-diva pop has fully distanced herself from that path. She released an EP influenced by the grunge music she listened to as a teenager. She has sat down to write songs for major legends of Spanish pop such as Ana Torroja (‘Recordar’) or Luz Casal (‘Tú y yo’, for the French edition of her latest album). This second album, arriving five years after the first, seems to seek songs that can transcend time, like those of these other artists.
The spirit of the most timeless pop-rock inundates singles like ‘No vuelvas’ or ‘Alguien habrá’. They are songs that also abound in romantic disappointment, generational discomfort or doubts about one’s own worth. One, besides “que me va fatal en el amor”, says: “Unos ratos tengo ansiedad, otros soy una diosa otra vez / luego pierdo la autoridad de mi estado emocional”. The other contemplates “quién me va a perdonar si no lo hago ni yo misma”, though with a more optimistic conclusion: “Con tanta gente en el mundo, alguien habrá que me quiera”.
However, the most striking aspect is the large number of ballads, and how beautiful they are. Morena is a violinist and a lyric soprano, and perhaps that is why she yields pieces as simple and impactful as ‘Vicky’, which speaks of friendship and sorority. Alba has played the violin, the piano, the moog bass, the viola and the sax on this recording, which in its winds and whistles evokes Burt Bacharach. ‘2º 1ª’ is a complete torch song that explains why Rocío Jurado is listed in the press sheet as one of her most noted influences. The lyrics say things like “¿no serás capaz de salir por esa puerta sin decir nada?” or “no queda nada que decirnos”; in the first verse, the recipient cries; in the second, she does.
Further afield still, ‘No nos supimos querer’ recalls in its progression the soundtracks of Hollywood, the musicals, and also a touch of our national folklore. And yet the album is not excessive or baroque: ‘Alguien habrá’ can be guided with a simple drum machine, and her colleagues Manu Blanco on guitar and bass, and Nico Durán on percussion add a touch of indie, direct and cathartic, very DIY, to the closing ‘Enamorada/Borracha’, in which she tries to awaken and welcome love.
The phantasmagorical and semi- environmental ‘Hace cuánto’ or the collaboration with María Yfeu ‘Hombre malo’ contribute more texture and textures to this solid second album. I don’t know if there will be a hit the size of Alejandro Sanz here. There is a nod to ‘Corazón partío’ in ‘Estaba claro que no’. What we do know is that ‘Morena con A’, a title that aims to differentiate her from Alba Moreno —a pop urban singer who also releases a single at the same time— solidifies this Alba with A for Artist, especially A for Author.
