Various Artists – Na Mele O Paniolo: Songs of The Hawaiian Cowboy

These songs may once have seen the backside of a steer headed full tilt down the slopes of Mauna Kea, but not lately. This production’s new-age romanticism is of the sort that reduces Southwestern Indian culture to pastel macrame dreamcatchers hung with chicken feathers. It’s an apt metaphor for the record’s raison d’etre: The quarter of Hawaii’s land devoted to cattle ranching is shrinking to the demands of tourism and changing times, and it’s none too soon to document the disappearing culture.

Na Mele O Paniolo is a by-product of an independent film dedicated to Hawaiian cowboy tradition, which began when cattle were introduced to the islands in the early 1800s. Mexican vaqueros followed, wearing the kerchiefs that likely gave their Hawaiian counterparts, paniolo, their name. They also introduced the guitar. The Hawaiians have made the instrument their own, evolving what’s become known as “slack-key” style guitar.

Leabert Lindsey, who plays on the record, is said to know 38 different open tunings slack-key players traditionally use. Joining Lindsey is Sonny Lim, another well-known slack-key player, and a number of Nashville session players. Michael Martin Murphey backs veteran paniolo Clyde “Kindy” Sproat’s vocals on one track. Throughout, the strumming is lush and the picking complex and immaculate.

Among the songs is one written in Hawaiian and Spanish by Hawaii’s last reigning monarch, Queen Lilliuokalani. On it and others, the Spangwaiian dialectic mix occasionally can be disconcerting. The term pi-pi, for instance, may not immediately evoke bovine imagery, and despite a lengthy and interesting introduction, the notion of a hairy hill is a bit hard to buy in a wistful song of sanctuary. On the other hand, the distractions can be charming, as the line that seems to suggest kissing dewdrops from someone’s ear.

In general, the songs are sentimental and documentary-ready. Yet even the saccharine girl harmonies and plush mix can barely conceal the rumbling hula boogie of “Na Cowboy”. Yep, there have been cowboys in these parts — enough to make one hope some roughneck bar band takes an interest in rounding up whatever else is out in them thar hills.