Calexico’s vision of Americana has always been more Romantic, more encompassing, and altogether more florid than that of most of its peers. And it isn’t just the influence of the Cinerama terrain around the band’s native Tucson, Ariz., because Calexico has willingly pursued its muses elsewhere.
On 2012’s Algiers, the pursuit led to New Orleans; on Edge of the Sun, it leads to Coyoacán, a Mexico City borough. The most direct result of the period spent there is a track named after the borough: a three-minute instrumental that, if not for its gaudy passion, could be slipped into a postmodern spaghetti western.
Less direct results include “Moon Never Rises,” a deceptively languid shuffle with Mexican singer-songwriter Carla Morrison, and “Cumbia de Donde,” a mambo into the titular Latin America musical genre that writhes with synthesizer squiggles and the near-instinctive vocals of Barcelona singer Amparo Sanchez.
Building upon what could be the informal maxim—“Strangers are just musicians Calexico hasn’t played with yet”—of core duo Joey Burns and John Convertino, Edge of the Sun is still quite collaborative. Every song has a guest.
Iron and Wine’s Sam Beam glides his harmonies into the dark sweep of “Bullets & Rocks.” As co-writer and backing singer, Pieta Brown throws afternoon shadow over the tumbleweed twang of “When the Angels Played.” And of course Neko Case bursts like pink and red fireworks in the sky above the Casio rhythms of “Tapping on the Line.”
On its eighth album, Calexico remains less affected by the people it meets than by the way the journey lightens the atmosphere and stirs up breezes to caress the skin. Its Americana often walks dirty streets and nighttime shades of blue; here, it strolls down avenues that are Arcadian and usually sunlit.
