The Madison quintet Fermata call what they do chamber art rock. The acoustic ensemble got that right. Intricate virtuosic plucking and strummed guitar, mandolin and banjo weave over upright bass, viola and violin, with a smidgen of accordion in the mix. Add literate songwriting, usually wrought in arch emotional fervidness and sung in minor keys.
Their sound is admirable for its compositional dexterity and distaff vocalist Lisa Mazza's purity of tone. The overall effect-something like The Gipsy Kings meeting The Decemberists and bumping into a great gal singer along the way-is sure, however, to draw little indifference between extremes of adoration and dislike. For those on the first side of that equation, however, Fermata should be a unique treasure and possible object of cultic loyalty.
