The plot of the movie itself was a trivial and obvious excuse of a skeleton on which to superimpose some grand flamanco and Arabo fusions. This soundtrack, while a remembrance of that movie, can stand alone. After all, we can hear flamenco nuevo guitarist Tomatito and also singer La Paquera de Jerez with guitar accompaniment of another esteemed artist, El Parrillo de Jerez. One of the strangest combinations is Sheikh al-Tuni, a charismatic Sufi singer from upper Egypt, with Tomatito and respective ensembles. It would have made more sense to have a Moroccan Sufi singer, as both regions are Andalusia and share common heritage. The track, longest of the album, is more Egyptian than Spanish. Two other tracks are Arabic music, which underline the influence of Arabo-Sefarad music in the development of flamenco. We also hear a throw-away techno-pop rendition, which in the film was appropriate to a sex club. Other artists include Ramon and Emilio Fernandez de los Santos of Gritos de Guerra, Grupo José, the Turkish ney player Kudsi Erguner, and singers Remedios Silva Pisa and La Caita.
Track 13 may seem odd, the tree with duende, but in the movie is the most memorable scene for me. Think of the tree as metaphor, whose roots reach deep. The theme, Naci en Alamo, is composed by the Greek musician Dionysis Tsaknis.
In short, this album is rather international,. When we hear unadorned flamenco, it is raw and heart-felt. Otherwise, the arabo-flamenco fusions and popular tunes are pleasant and interesting.