Frank Yamma

He’s one of Aboriginal Australia’s deadliest singer-songwriters – as mellifluous as Gurrumul Yunupingu, as emotive as Archie Roach, as acerbic as Kev Carmody – and yet Frank Yamma is barely a blip on the radar as far as mainstream Australia is concerned, let alone the world at large. The anomaly is about to be addressed, thanks to a new album that is at least comparable to Gurrumul, Charcoal Lane and Pillars Of Society, the respective breakthrough releases of Messrs Yunupingu, Roach and Carmody.

David Bridie, who co-produced the album in question with Tim Cole, his associate from Not Drowning Waving days, and released it on his own Wantok Musik label, has no doubt that Countryman has the capacity to open doors that previous Frank Yamma releases such as Playing With Fire (1999) and Keep Up The Pace (2006) have left locked, even though both earned critical praise, the former a gong as the album of its year at the ‘99 Indigenous Music Awards. “This is the record that Frank always should have made,” declares the Melburnian mover and shaker. “This is the record that will make white Australia realise what Indigenous Australia already knows about him. The man may come from remote Australia, but his music is accessible and relevant to everyone.”

For those who don’t know, Frank Yamma is a proud Pitjantjatjara man from the central desert, who sings with imposing sonority and sincerity, in his native tongue and his second language (English),about the beauty of his country and of issues pertaining to the degradation of Aboriginal culture. Anextraordinarily gifted and evocative songwriter, he addresses such weighty subjects as alcohol abuse, the need to respect traditional tribal laws and ways and the importance of country. As one reviewer eloquently put it, “When Frank Yamma sings about standing on a sand dune watching over the landscape, it’s as though you are standing right there with him. When he sings about the plight of Aboriginal children born into a world of chaos and grog, Frank wrenches the heart.” Yamma’s latest and greatest release is an album redolent with contradictory images. Songs of longing and loving, and songs reflecting the vicissitudes of Frank’s life, the duality of living as a respected initiated man in the bush and as a disrespected outsider in the cities, where jail, poverty and discrimination are a part of everyday life for an Aboriginal person. - Rhythms Magazine

Frank Yamma’s deadliest song to date could not have arrived at a more opportune time….under the production values of Tim Cole and David Bridie both songs attain maximum potency…elsewhere Bridie employs a stripped back approach, allowing Yamma’s rich powerful voice to resonate above piano or acoustic guitar arpeggios…the mellow cello of Helen Mountford earths Yamma’s upper register vocal delivery of “I didn’t know who you were that day”, the more ethereal Nguta Waljilpa, one of four songs sung in language, is as spiritually charged as any of the songs on Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingus solo CD or Archie Roach’s Albums; “Calling Your Name” is as hard hitting as anything produced by Kev Carmody. - The Australian

Considered by many to be one of Australia’s most expressive indigenous voices, Pitjantjatjara singer- songwriter Frank Yamma, has never enjoyed the same public profile as Archie Roach, Kev Carmody or Gurrumul.

But that could change with the release of this extraordinary recording. Unlike his past albums, which primarily featured electrified versions of his songs, this time Adelaide-based Yamma has opted for a raw acoustic approach, and it works wonderfully. Nurtured by the seamless production of David Bridie and Tim Cole, Yamma’s thoughtful lyrics, delivered in both English and Pitjantjatjara, are like a dingo’s howl – lonely and powerful.

Like Roach, Yamma writes songs combining deep sadness with a remarkable beauty, and while the touching She Cried is almost too poignant to bear, the songs in language, Kunka Kutcha and Nguta Waljilpa, are no less emotive. Some of Yamma’s older tunes, notably Coolibah and Make More Spear are given riveting new interpretations. Special mention needs to be made of cellist Helen Mountfort’s sympathetic accompaniment throughout.

Evocative and occasionally heart-wrenching, Countryman is a plaintive cry from the Central desert, and a truly moving masterpiece.

Copyright © Limelight Magazine. All rights reserve - Lime Light Magazine

From the opening two minutes of She Cried, you can tell that the latest album from Central Australia’s guitar hero Frank Yamma is going to break your heart, wipe away your tears, then make you cry some more... In the most enjoyable way possible.
The album as a whole is stripped back, with repetitious finger-picking patterns laying a road for Yamma’s overwhelming voice. Singing in both English and his native language, Pitjantjatjara, Yamma’s voice tells stories of romance, cultural degradation and the love of his country. In Remember The Day Yamma tells stories of his encounters with love, while other songs such as Make More Spear give us an overview of what he has witnessed through the generations with children being born into alcohol and poverty. Each song has a lesson and is sung with such honesty and emotion that has come from a life of hardship.
The way in which each story is told gives some pretty strong imagery. Putting the album on envelops you from start to finish and it’s near impossible to change the song before the story has been told.
While the foundations of most of Yamma’s songs fit neatly into the genre of roots music, he has strayed from the boundaries and you can hear influences from blues and jazz making their way into the album, especially in Calling Your Name and Inside, with the addition of a gravelly electric guitar.
This stripped-back, raw collection of songs spans across many generations and cultures. His honesty and emotion will tug on your heart like any deep Johnny Cash song would and any listener, be they 16 or 160 years old, can take something away from his stories.
Tom Norton - Inpress Magazine