Mbongwana Star, a
newly formed 7-piece band from the Democratic Republic of Congo, are
preparing for the May release their debut album, ‘From Kinshasa’, and
associated European tour.
Coco Ngambali and Theo Nzonza first formed a band fifteen years ago,
inspired by their love of Congolese rumba and its pantheon – Franco,
Tabu Ley Rochereau and Pépé Kallé. That band, Staff Benda Bilili, hit
the big time: two major albums, a world tour and starring roles in the
acclaimed film ‘Benda Bilili’. Inevitably, the big time hit right back.
The band collapsed under the weight of its own success.
But in the shanty-villages of Kinshasa – Africa’s third largest city -
bands are recycled along with everything else. Music and musical
instruments, just like fashion, art, jewellery, pedal-power contraptions
and motor vehicles, all rise from the inexhaustible scrap heap. Coco
and Theo gathered up the necessary parts of a band from the younger
generation, crammed them together and started belting out a shambles
under the name Mbongwana Star – ‘mbongwana’ meaning ‘change’. They were
indeed looking for change, for something new.
That’s when they met Liam Farrell, aka Doctor L, a maverick musician and
producer on the Parisian hip-hop and electro scenes who produced Tony
Allen’s ‘Black Voices’ and who was looking to find the punk ethic alive
in Kinshasa’s raucous swelter-skelter. The music that Coco and Theo
played to Doctor L was vigorous - a heedless mass assault of percussion,
guitars and voices on the edge of tearing itself apart with its own
momentum. Some form of collaboration seemed inevitable.
Though he’d eventually play on and mix the album, Doctor L initially set
out simply to record as much as he could, chipping away, paring down,
honing. “It’s all recorded in the red,” he says over a dodgy Skype
connection. “Sometimes I over-boost mikes that are recording nothing,
just to pick up the kind of environment that’s around me now. Can you
hear it? There are three TVs going full blast. Distortion multiplies the
energy. I love it!”
And the result? A fusion (‘too smooth and seamless a word for this
angular hodgepodge’ according to The Guardian) of traditional Congolese
rhythms with a big fistful of European post-punk bass and busted
electronics. ‘Afrobeat with a solid steel casing’, says Fact Magazine.
So this isn’t what you would expect from a Congolese band or even an
African sound. Like the weird Congo Astronaut that haunts their first
video, ‘Malukayi (feat. Konono No.1)’, Mbongwana Star is a naturally
occurring, smashed-together combination of things that’s both unexpected
and somehow inevitable, too. It’s made from bits of the past and points
toward a strange but exciting kind of future, but more importantly you
can tell that it’s just loving the present.
LIONS is a 7 piece group based in NYC that draws it's inspiration from the beautiful music of Ethiopia. Playing arrangements of Ethiopian funk tunes from the 60's-70's as well as original music with Ethiopian influence.
Nubiyan Twist are a 12 piece outfit based in Leeds/London, fusing
groove driven music from around the world with soundsystem culture and
jazz inspired improvisation. A culmination of musicians, dj's and
producers alike, the band strives to encourage artistic and social unity
between different cultures and musical styles. Notable influences
include the likes of Fela Kuti, King Tubby, J Dilla and Herbie Hancock.
Over the band's 3 year lifespan they have
collaborated with Ruby Wood (Submotion Orchestra) and played alongside
the likes of De La Soul, Hot 8 Brass Band, Quantic, Robert Glasper, DJ
Yoda and DJ Vadim to name a few. With two one-off releases under their
belt and an EP due in October 2014, Nubiyan Twist are now working on
their debut album at Henwood Studios.
What we mean by a "group" has grown in recent years to encompass
everything from a boisterous guitar/drums duo to an amorphous horn-rich
collective, and this Leeds-born band has made that journey of expansion
as it embraced the music of Africa, America and Jamaica on the road to a
very fine debut album indeed. Like our own Federation of the Disco Pimp
or Fat Suit, Nubiyan Twist is packed with fine players, and, crucially,
fronted by a charismatic singer in Nubiya Brandon. The jazz chops are
present and correct, with opening track, Turu, built on an lovely
arpeggiating sax figure, but this twelve-piece has an eclecticism that
sets it apart. Straight Lines is the most retro offering, owing its
style to the funk-bop of Lee Morgan or Hank Mobley that can still pack a
dancefloor today, but Hypnotised owes more to the British reggae of
Steel Pulse, Aswad or Capital Letters, complete with some old-school
toasting (as distinct from rap). Figure Numatic is a slice of fusion
funk, with hip-hop rapping this time, built on a trumpet riff and
concluding with a drum solo that deliciously muffles out. Shake Me Down
is a beautifully constructed 8 minutes 20 seconds of musical Minecraft.
Addictive stuff.
It
was a privilege to watch this 12-piece dub/afrobeat/hip-hop group play
at the Brixton Jamm. Before the night, I had only heard their recent
single – ‘Work House’, which is a badass, well-produced, modern neo-soul
classic, reviewed
previously on Lost In The Manor. So while I was excited about their
set, I didn’t quite know what to expect. ‘Work House’, it turns out, is
not that representative of their live show. The song is a masterpiece,
but compared to the rest of their set, somewhat conventional. Nubiyan Twist’s live show was an intense afrobeat, jazz party/workout with long improvised passages.
From the start it was clear that none of the members had let their
obvious talent go to their heads. All 12 smiled unpretentiously as they
created a groove that invited us all to join their party. The African
rhythms took hold of us and no-one could help dancing despite the
Brixton Jamm being so rammed that we could barely move. This was a
completely inclusive relationship between band and audience: the glue
between the two entities was the hypnotic afrobeat groove, taking hold
of everyone’s consciousness like a drug.
She emerged gracefully from the shadows a few minutes into the first
song, sidling between the keyboard player and the brass section to her
place behind the microphone. With a look that could be described as
somewhere between African Queen and Geisha, Nubiya Brandon used her long
fingers and slender arms to form shapes in the air – looking like she
could have come from an art-nouveau painting. Sassy yet elegant, feline
yet powerful, Brandon cut an imposing figure on stage. However, what
charmed about her performance was her lack of ego in terms of her place
in the band. She oozed style and confidence, but as the frontwoman of
Nubiyan Twist, saw herself as firmly being a part of the collective, and
let all the other performers shine equally.
Within the framework of the groove, each performer was given a canvas on
which to explore new territory in their solos. I particularly enjoyed
Oliver Cadman’s keyboard solos, with spiky left hand chords climbing
through unexpected changes, and a nimble and innovative right hand.
Denis Skully’s explorations on the tenor saxophone were imaginative and
reminiscent of Coltrane. It was also a thrill to have Tom Davison on the
decks, whose scratching and use of effects brought an urban dimension
to their sound. Standing in the darkness on the far left of the stage
stood Brazilian multi-instrumentalist Pill Adami, who was on percussion
and vocals throughout most of the set. In a subtle way he seemed to
conduct the collective, with his perfect sense of rhythm and impassioned
vocals. Nubiya had already dedicated one of their songs to Fela Kuti,
but for their encore, Pilo Adami slung a guitar over his shoulder and
took to the centre of the stage to lead the band through Fela Kuti’s
‘Gentleman’.
I bought the Nubiyan Twist CD and I can’t stop playing it. The
performances are immaculate and the production tasteful. But every time a
soloist gets going on one of the tracks, I just want it to continue.
Listening to the record makes me want to see them live, to witness that
incredible energy, that synergy of forces, the wild solos and to be a
part of that Nubian Twist party again. - See more at:
http://lostinthemanor.co.uk/blog/live-review-nubiyan-twist-at-brixton-jamm-14315/#sthash.NbMl3Ep9.dpuf
It
was a privilege to watch this 12-piece dub/afrobeat/hip-hop group play
at the Brixton Jamm. Before the night, I had only heard their recent
single – ‘Work House’, which is a badass, well-produced, modern neo-soul
classic, reviewed
previously on Lost In The Manor. So while I was excited about their
set, I didn’t quite know what to expect. ‘Work House’, it turns out, is
not that representative of their live show. The song is a masterpiece,
but compared to the rest of their set, somewhat conventional. Nubiyan Twist’s live show was an intense afrobeat, jazz party/workout with long improvised passages.
From the start it was clear that none of the members had let their
obvious talent go to their heads. All 12 smiled unpretentiously as they
created a groove that invited us all to join their party. The African
rhythms took hold of us and no-one could help dancing despite the
Brixton Jamm being so rammed that we could barely move. This was a
completely inclusive relationship between band and audience: the glue
between the two entities was the hypnotic afrobeat groove, taking hold
of everyone’s consciousness like a drug.
She emerged gracefully from the shadows a few minutes into the first
song, sidling between the keyboard player and the brass section to her
place behind the microphone. With a look that could be described as
somewhere between African Queen and Geisha, Nubiya Brandon used her long
fingers and slender arms to form shapes in the air – looking like she
could have come from an art-nouveau painting. Sassy yet elegant, feline
yet powerful, Brandon cut an imposing figure on stage. However, what
charmed about her performance was her lack of ego in terms of her place
in the band. She oozed style and confidence, but as the frontwoman of
Nubiyan Twist, saw herself as firmly being a part of the collective, and
let all the other performers shine equally.
Within the framework of the groove, each performer was given a canvas on
which to explore new territory in their solos. I particularly enjoyed
Oliver Cadman’s keyboard solos, with spiky left hand chords climbing
through unexpected changes, and a nimble and innovative right hand.
Denis Skully’s explorations on the tenor saxophone were imaginative and
reminiscent of Coltrane. It was also a thrill to have Tom Davison on the
decks, whose scratching and use of effects brought an urban dimension
to their sound. Standing in the darkness on the far left of the stage
stood Brazilian multi-instrumentalist Pill Adami, who was on percussion
and vocals throughout most of the set. In a subtle way he seemed to
conduct the collective, with his perfect sense of rhythm and impassioned
vocals. Nubiya had already dedicated one of their songs to Fela Kuti,
but for their encore, Pilo Adami slung a guitar over his shoulder and
took to the centre of the stage to lead the band through Fela Kuti’s
‘Gentleman’.
I bought the Nubiyan Twist CD and I can’t stop playing it. The
performances are immaculate and the production tasteful. But every time a
soloist gets going on one of the tracks, I just want it to continue.
Listening to the record makes me want to see them live, to witness that
incredible energy, that synergy of forces, the wild solos and to be a
part of that Nubian Twist party again. - See more at:
http://lostinthemanor.co.uk/blog/live-review-nubiyan-twist-at-brixton-jamm-14315/#sthash.NbMl3Ep9.dpuf
It was a privilege to watch this 12-piece dub/afrobeat/hip-hop group
play at the Brixton Jamm. Before the night, I had only heard their
recent single – ‘Work House’, which is a badass, well-produced, modern
neo-soul classic, reviewed
previously on Lost In The Manor. So while I was excited about their
set, I didn’t quite know what to expect. ‘Work House’, it turns out, is
not that representative of their live show. The song is a masterpiece,
but compared to the rest of their set, somewhat conventional. Nubiyan Twist’s live show was an intense afrobeat, jazz party/workout with long improvised passages.
From the start it was clear that none of the members had let their
obvious talent go to their heads. All 12 smiled unpretentiously as they
created a groove that invited us all to join their party. The African
rhythms took hold of us and no-one could help dancing despite the
Brixton Jamm being so rammed that we could barely move. This was a
completely inclusive relationship between band and audience: the glue
between the two entities was the hypnotic afrobeat groove, taking hold
of everyone’s consciousness like a drug.
She emerged gracefully from the shadows a few minutes into the first
song, sidling between the keyboard player and the brass section to her
place behind the microphone. With a look that could be described as
somewhere between African Queen and Geisha, Nubiya Brandon used her long
fingers and slender arms to form shapes in the air – looking like she
could have come from an art-nouveau painting. Sassy yet elegant, feline
yet powerful, Brandon cut an imposing figure on stage. However, what
charmed about her performance was her lack of ego in terms of her place
in the band. She oozed style and confidence, but as the frontwoman of
Nubiyan Twist, saw herself as firmly being a part of the collective, and
let all the other performers shine equally.
Within the framework of the groove, each performer was given a canvas on
which to explore new territory in their solos. I particularly enjoyed
Oliver Cadman’s keyboard solos, with spiky left hand chords climbing
through unexpected changes, and a nimble and innovative right hand.
Denis Skully’s explorations on the tenor saxophone were imaginative and
reminiscent of Coltrane. It was also a thrill to have Tom Davison on the
decks, whose scratching and use of effects brought an urban dimension
to their sound. Standing in the darkness on the far left of the stage
stood Brazilian multi-instrumentalist Pill Adami, who was on percussion
and vocals throughout most of the set. In a subtle way he seemed to
conduct the collective, with his perfect sense of rhythm and impassioned
vocals. Nubiya had already dedicated one of their songs to Fela Kuti,
but for their encore, Pilo Adami slung a guitar over his shoulder and
took to the centre of the stage to lead the band through Fela Kuti’s
‘Gentleman’.
I bought the Nubiyan Twist CD and I can’t stop playing it. The
performances are immaculate and the production tasteful. But every time a
soloist gets going on one of the tracks, I just want it to continue.
Listening to the record makes me want to see them live, to witness that
incredible energy, that synergy of forces, the wild solos and to be a
part of that Nubian Twist party again.
A playboy bandleader and singer, he helped shape African music
When he appeared at the Barbican in London last May, the singer,
guitarist and bandleader Geraldo Pino, who has died aged 69, revealed
himself as one of the forgotten fathers of African popular music. He had
a major influence on west Africa's soul, funk and Afrobeat scene in the
1960s and 70s, and made a huge impression on the young Fela Kuti, yet
his music had been largely unheard for the past 30 years.
Born and raised as Gerald Pine in Freetown, Sierra Leone, he was the
son of a Nigeria-based lawyer and lost his mother and sister at an early
age. Rebelling against his background, he started playing music at a
social club and co-founded the Heartbeats at the start of the 1960s,
playing covers of American hits and Congolese versions of rumba, then
sweeping west Africa. The most famous Congolese musicians were Franco
and Dr Nico, whose names inspired Gerald Pine to turn into the exotic
"Geraldo Pino".
Playing Freetown nightclubs such as the Flamingo, Palm Beach and
Tiwana, the Heartbeats became one of the highest earning bands in west
Africa, and when television was introduced in Sierra Leone in 1962, Pino
and the Heartbeats had their own show. In early 1963 they cut their
first records - including Maria Lef For Waka, Heartbeats Merengue and
Zamzie - which were released on his own Pino Records label. Zamzie is
still used by Voice of America as a signature tune.
Africa was alive with dance music in those optimistic, post-colonial
days and the Heartbeats provided a sophisticated, internationalised
sound which began to challenge the ubiquitous highlife. Pino was also a
great manager, promoter and businessman. Touring Ghana and Nigeria
(1965-67), he was very much the playboy pop star, with a Pontiac
convertible, flashy clothes and, most importantly, hardware unheard of
in Africa at that time: imported amplifiers pumping out the sound of his
electronic instruments and a six-microphone PA system.
Pino
had the stage presence to match, impressing women and men equally.
Among his 1960s and 70s hits were Power to the People, Give Me Ganja,
Let Them Talk and Make Me Feel Good.
He impressed Fela Kuti (then still Ransome Kuti) when he played
Lagos, Nigeria. At the time the Nigerian was playing jazzy highlife
while Pino arrived with James Brown's style of music and formidable
equipment. "He had all Nigeria in his pocket," Fela said in 1982. "Made
me fall right on my ass, man."
Pino returned to Nigeria in 1967, and later that year took up a
residency at the Ringway hotel, Accra, Ghana. The original Heartbeats
broke up at the end of the decade and he recruited Ghanaians for the new
Heartbeats 72 from a psychedelic band, the Plastic Jims. In the 70s
they played west African concerts alongside Jimmy Cliff, Rufus Thomas
and Manu Dibango. Pino's records made him famous as far away as Kenya.
In 1969 he settled in Nigeria and never left, buying a TV station and
the Airport hotel in the city of Port Harcourt. There he introduced
up-and-coming Camerounian musicians and played with Fela Kuti. In 2005
two of his albums were reissued, bringing his sounds to a new
generation. In London last year, he played again with former Heartbeats
drummer and arranger Francis Fuster, and despite failing health
acquitted himself well.
Pino had cancer and was diabetic. A Port Harcourt paper reported that
he was being treated for "a mere pain on the foot when he finally gave
up the ghost". Pino never married, though he is believed to have
fathered several children.
• Geraldo Pino (Gerald Pine), musician, born 10 February 1939; died 10 November 2008
Unless you willingly accept half-assed jobs, it’s impossible to
review this album and not give a lengthy rundown of K’naan Warsame’s
life. Most hip-hop artists use their childhood and formative teenage
years as fuel for the bulk of their career’s rhymes. That part is
nothing new. Gangsta rappers speak of the “hood” as something they still
exist in, committing horrible atrocities against their own people no
matter how long ago they moved into multi-million dollar Orange County
mansions. Privileged indie rappers often use their youth to paint
pictures of social injustice or the quirky happenstance that made them
the characters they are. K’naan is different.
Though he counts as a Canadian in the census these days, K’naan was
born and raised in Mogadishu, Somalia. He lived there ‘til the tender
age of 13, when the civil war became too heated. His family was lucky
enough to get a visa on the last day the US Embassy was open and snag a
ticket on the last commercial flight out of the country. An original
import to Harlem, the Warsame family quickly relocated to Ontario and
they’ve stayed there ever since. Before all that, young K’naan (which
means “traveler” in his native tongue) was already honing his mic skills
as he memorized Nas and Rakim verses phonetically since he spoke no
English at the time. His grandfather had been one of his country’s most
revered poets, so he came by the lyricist desire honestly.
With a flow often likened to a mix of a young Eminem (minus the mama
done me wrong, kill my wife please bullshit) and poet of the people Bob
Marley, Dusty Foot Philosopher hit the Canadian shelves in 2005.
The Canuck version of the Grammys, the Juno’s gave it Best Rap Album
that year and it received a nomination for the Polaris Music Prize
(similar to the UK’s coveted Mercury Prize). It struck a chord with the
socially conscious and resonated all the way back to Somalia, where
several of the videos now included on the deluxe edition DVD were shot.
Big fish K-os thought he was using the poor for commercial gain, but he
really wants nothing more than to shed light on a troubled part of the
world that developed countries find easy to ignore, a place that in many
ways never left K’naan. That fact is evident in his words and in how he
carries himself.
The opening track “Wash It Down” outlines his manifesto over a truly
inspired instrumental, constructed purely out of splashing water. A
disgustingly large percentage of the world does not have access to clean
water and, working hand in hand with malnutrition, such contaminated
supplies invariably cause a large portion of the illness in impoverished
lands. Unbeknownst to most, water based diarrheal diseases actually
lead to the death of around three-quarters of a million children under
the age of five in sub-Saharan Africa and over half a million in south
Asia every year. The gravity of this issue is alluded to by K’naan in
stark contrast to the stress citizens of modern capitalist democracies
live through, one based in bills, abusive advertising, unnecessarily
overwhelming product selection, and warmongering governments.
As it fades, “Wash It Down” leads into the tribal rhythm of “Soobax”
and the introduction of Track and Field’s production, a team best known
for its work on the first two Nelly Furtado albums. Mixing Somali and
English words, the track is a lyrical disembowelment of the gangsters
who man renegade roadblocks in Africa and gun down those who refuse to
pay or simply don’t live up to their fickle standards. In its own
context, it’s a song of empowerment for the meek, those who are always
in dire need of hope. He may not live there any more, but K’naan
clearly remembers what it was like to have three of his best friends
shot in a single day, he understands the hope he desired at the time,
and is doing his best to deliver it to the people who still need it. He
is honestly trying to give back to the tragic birthplace of his soul,
not merely profit from it like Fiddy Cent.
The subject of abusing the less fortunate for personal gain is given
great elucidation by “What’s Hardcore?” NWA and thousands of subsequent
wannabe thugs have made careers from saying, “fuck da police.” Far from
living the dream, K’naan grew up where there were no police as well as
ambulance, firefighters, or any semblance of a people-run government. As
a child, playing around with what he thought was a potato, K’naan blew
up half of his school when the pin fell out of the odd orb he dug from
the ground, it started oddly ticking, he panicked, and tossed it as far
as he could. Who do you call in that situation? Scientologists? With
purpose, at the ripe age of 13, his brother blew up a federal court. All
of those gangsters at the roadblocks, thieves, riot provokers, and the
like are practically indistinguishable from anyone else. Can you imagine
what that would be like to live in? Well, it existed 15 years ago and
it’s still going on today. The police may not be perfect, but once
they’re gone, human nature dictates that all you can fuck is yourself.
In 2008, there are pre-teens with no food, water, or basic formal
education walking around with AK47s, and we’re supposed to think Curtis
“P.I.M.P.” Jackson is a bad mutha because he wears a bulletproof vest
while driving an armored Hummer around his gated estate in Farmington,
Connecticut. As K’naan says, “If I rhyme about home and got descriptive /
I’d make 50 Cent look like Limp Bizkit”. Strewth.
It’s been three years since Dusty Foot Philosopher first
appeared in the frozen North, and this is its proper US debut. The
messages are as urgent as can be and the production—mostly provided by
Brian “Field” West and Gerald “Track” Eaton (a.k.a. Jarvis Church)—is as
memorable today as ever. World music fueled beats will never go out of
style, though it takes a special breed to carry them off. Still, it’s
sad to say, but I can’t see the album having much of an impact in the
land of the sleeping giant. We live in a world where Fiddy sells
millions of albums boasting about being one of the roadblock gangsters
shooting his own people and the only antithesis the commercial market
seems willing to embrace is a lil’ pothead whoring lollipops and a guy
in a glowing jacket who jams with Daft Punk.
America has spoken loud and clear about Somalia and Darfur, just like
the poor in such cities as New Orleans and Detroit. It would rather
party to some chump covered in African blood diamond-encrusted gold
crosses who has nothing deeper to offer than “throw your hands up” than
deal with the reality that affords their illusions. You can’t blame them
for not wanting to look behind the green curtain every day, it’s not
the most fun way to live, but I don’t think it’s out of line to hope for
more. Despite my pessimism, there are still millions of unerringly
fantastic people in America today, and one person can still change the
world for the better. It’s as easy as deciding to care and be aware that
your actions have global repercussions. Even though the charts will
likely never reflect your humanity, if all you ever do is throw away the
selfish, chest-beating gangsta third-eye blindfolds and spread the good
word to a few friends, the course of history will be grateful for such a
small miracle. Any one of us has the ability to set in motion a domino
effect of socially responsible positivism and at long last repeal the
glorified lifestyle of woman-raping, drug-dealing, gay-bashing
sociopaths with sideways hats. What you put out in the world comes back
to you tenfold. K’naan has already done the hard work for us. All we
have to do is walk a few steps in his shoes, walk away from what the
corporate-strangled industry wants us to buy and towards something real.
Take the path of the dusty foot philosopher.
K'naan means "traveler" in Somali. It is exactly what he has been all his life.
After living amidst a civil war in an impoverished Somalia up until the age
of thirteen, K'naan began a new chapter of his life by utilizing his talents
to its full capacity as he wanted to rhyme for a cause. First moving to
Harlem with his mother and brother, they later relocated to Canada to begin
a new life. Using his rhymes and spoken word to demonstrate the lack of
response to Somalia's situation, K'naan performed for the United Nations
High Commissioner for Refugees in 1999 and later sought after for the 2001
Building Bridges album project which exposed exiled artists from Africa.
After teaming up with Jarvis Church and the Track & Field team in 2002, "The
Dusty Foot Philosopher" was released in Canada in 2005 and now will be
released in the U.S. as a "Deluxe Edition" featuring newly mixed tracks, a
bonus track, and an accompanying DVD in late June 2008.
Compared to a mixture of Eminem and Bob Marley, K'naan delivers socially
conscious hip hop while ensuring his message of a struggling Somalia are
heard. His fervor and passion for his beliefs clearly run through his rhymes
and messages. The message is clear throughout "The Dusty Foot
Philosopher"-Somalia is in need of help. K'naan exposes his audience to a
country few know about and the real life situations still occurring in
Somalia. It is the truth and this is what he speaks.
With this in mind, "The Dusty Foot Philosopher" takes us on a journey about
the past, present, and future of life in Somalia through the eyes of K'naan
as he envelopes us in his story full of reality and hope. K'naan relives his
life while living in Somalia through his spoken word and in depth lyrics
while painting a picture to his prior existence he once knew so well. As he
explains in the beginning of "My Old Home" that many people always ask about
his life back in Somalia, K'naan addresses the wonderment by his fans and
elaborates on his past. In a spoken words cadence, K'naan explains his old
house, the local people, his neighborhood and as the beat breaks he unfolds
the darker side the life once lived. The factualness in his lyricism about
the violence and chaos that erupted in Somalia is what his "old home" once
consisted of.
With rapid drums and heavy synths, K'naan's message to criticize and
challenge warlords who have pillaged Somalian soil comes to fruition in
"Soobax." Although there has been a great deal of controversy with this
track and religious values, K'naan openly decided to shoot the video for it
in Kenya as he still decided it was something that needed to be done
regardless of the slack he was receiving. As it was almost impossible to
shoot back in Somalia as he feared for his life, K'naan felt the heat from
fellow Canadian emcees that would later attest that K'naan was trying to be
a "religious entertainer who wants to be a life saver." Amidst the upheaval
drawn from "Soobax," K'naan's message is clear and concise as he shows that
"soobax" simply means to "come out" as he pictures directly speaking in
front of gunmen. A track that his brother even says K'naan could be killed
for, in a different perspective "Soobax" instills the message of courage and
fearlessness that many need to hear as he says:
"Basically, I got beef, I wanna talk to you directly, I
Can't ignore, I can't escape, and that's cause, you
Affect me, you cripple me, you shackle me, you shatter
My whole future in front of me, this energy, is killing
Me, I gotta let it pour like blood, soobax:
Dadkii waa dhibtee nagala soobax:
(Translation- you have exasperated the people so come out with it.)
Dhibkii waa batee nagla soobax:
(Translation - The troubles have increased so come out with it.)
Dhiigi waad qubtee nagala soobax:
(Translation- you've spilled the blood so that it drains on the Roads, so come out with it.)
Dhulkii waad gubtee nagala soobax:
(Translation-You've burnt the root of the earth, so come out with it.)"
Heavy electric and acoustic guitars summon "Strugglin'" as the slow beat
enhances the message of the earnest effort for victory in an otherwise toxic
environment. K'naan defines the true struggle of living in hostile areas
while coping with the unrest of his country as he says, "Strugglin, and it's
troublin', in this circumstance I'm dwelling in, I find myself in the corner
huddling with some angry men and I gotta
settle shit again before they gotta kill again." K'naan also brings to light
the fact that unfortunate incidences are only appreciated after the fact
such as Hurricane Katrina, the war on terrorism, or the upheaval in Somalia
in "Hoobaale." With traditional sounds of Somalian strings and drums,
"Hoobaale" begins with one of the best lines from K'naan to sum up the whole
album as he says, "How come they fix the bridge only after somebody has fallen?"
Although K'naan is far from being liberated from the situation in Somalia,
he remains optimistic that change will once happen. "'Til We Get There"
featuring emcee M-1 of group dead prez and vocals from Stori James, explains
the possibility of living in a world full of equality. Despite the reality
of it all that we are still not at that point, "Til We Get There" shows the
impossible is in fact possible if everyone stands by one another as K'naan
and M-1 play off each other's rhymes as if speaking to each other about
possible freedom.
Aside from the unrest in Somalia, K'naan delivers other poignant messages
throughout "The Dusty Foot Philosopher." With a fast beat and hard bass in
"What's Hardcore," K'naan discusses how the meaning to the word "hardcore"
has become somewhat skewed in today's hip hop and youth K'naan shows that
what most envision as "hardcore" isn't even half of it as he says:
"I'm a spit these verses cause I feel annoyed
And I'm not gonna quit till I fill the void
If I rhyme about home and got descriptive
I'd make 50 Cent look like Limp Bizkit
It's true, and don't make me rhyme about you
I'm from where the kids is addicted to glue
Get ready, he got a good grip on the machete
Make rappers say they do it for love like R. Kelly
It's hard, harder than Harlem and Compton intertwined
Harder than harboring Bin Laden and rewind"
The crux to "The Dusty Foot Philosopher" lies within the title track as
K'naan explains what and who makes up that person. In a beautiful, poetic
interpretation, K'naan unravels the mystery of "the dusty foot philosopher"
who is "one that is poor, lives in poverty, but lives in a dignified manner
and philosophizes about the universe" and who is represented by his old
friend Mohamoud that was killed. Eloquent in his lyrics, his signature
expressive nature describes a person who has "talked about things that well
read people do and they've never read or they've never been on a plane, but
can tell you what's beyond the clouds."
K'naan is an emcee like no other. His ideas of bringing forth an image
beyond that of what is seen on television that merely depicts African and
African children with dusty feet without knowledge is something he stands by
strongly. In "The Dusty Foot Philosopher," his lyricism and strength to
enlighten those otherwise unaware of constant upheaval existing throughout
the world has opened many eyes to the reality of it all. Without hesitation
or fear, he has shown the truths behind issues that were once ignored while
incorporating his own life experiences to exemplify the severity of the
situation. K'naan has opened doors for emcees in terms of content while
showing that speaking the truth is the best type of lyricism. His unmatched
articulateness and talents as an emcee only enhances the ever so changing
hip hop industry while showing that self-expression is the only way to live
even if it means living as a "dusty foot philosopher."
Soundway Records, along with the Goethe-Institute and Adaptr.org,
present TEN CITIES a new compilation including, amongst many others,
the likes of Bristol dubstep producer Pinch, Lisbon-based producer
Batida and Kenyan group Just A Band, TEN CITIES is set for release on
10th November on CD, 3xLP and digital.
Between Autumn 2012 and Spring 2013 the TEN CITIES project
brought electronic music producers and musicians from five cities in
Europe (Berlin, Bristol, Kiev, Lisbon and Naples) to five cities in
Africa (Cairo, Johannesburg, Lagos, Luanda and Nairobi) They were
invited to collaborate and create, spending an intense time together
making music in sticky studios and blacked-out rooms across the African
continent.
TEN CITIES put together approximately 50 electronic music
producers and instrumentalists from the ten cities selected. They were
invited to collaborate in studios over the course of more than six
months. A selection of the outcome of these cross-continental
experiments can be heard on this record.
It's no surprise that the results are far from what many
would term 'World Music' and its often generic mixture of aural clichés,
where all too often African music (as with that of the rest of the
planet) from Mali to Madagascar, and from Morocco to Malawi is all filed
under one ridiculous, meaningless genre.
TEN CITIES attempts to do something quite different:
whilst searching for common ground it is also trying to highlight the
differences. As a result hip-hop from the squats of Naples, bass music
from Bristol, experimental techno from Berlin or jazz-tinged deep-house
from Kiev are thrust upon the pumping kuduro of Luanda, the free-thinking crackled electronica of Cairo, afro-jazz from Lagos or the Sheng street-slang of Kenyan rap.
Epic is the word that immediately springs to mind when trying to describe
the laudable Ten Cities project. Effectively a stab at grasping the
global fusion zeitgeist by fostering links between musicians, DJs and
electronic producers across two continents, its’ aims run deeper. While
this kind of cross-cultural collaboration is nothing new, it’s rarely
been tried on this kind of grand scale. Of course, it’s the musical side
of the project that will rightly grab the headlines, with this
sprawling compilation on Soundway Records being the conclusion of a
three-year process of cross-cultural studio collaborations and suitably
celebratory parties and concerts throughout Europe and Africa. Ten
Citiesalso encompasses research and academic publications
focusing on the distinctive club scenes in each of the selected cities. A
quick glance at the project website confirms the sheer number of people
involved behind the scenes – not just 50 or so musicians, DJs and
producers, but a similar number of researchers, curators and project
coordinators.
The concept behind this project from Soundway is sound, essentially
posing the question: what happens when you put together electronic
producers from across Europe (Bristol, Berlin, Lisbon, Kiev and Naples)
with musicians, vocalists and producers from the African cities Cairo,
Johannesburg, Lagos, Luanda, and Nairobi? If Ten Cities is the
answer, it might not initially feel as wild and adventurous as you’d
expect, but the more you listen the more it’s inner qualities rise to
the surface. For the most part, the music does a good job in pairing
distinctive African elements – percussion, traditional instrumentation,
and vocals, in particular – with complimentary electronic music styles.
Interestingly, there are few moments that jar on the compilation,
despite the range of styles covered – experimental hip-hop, smoky
dubstep, punchy kuduro, and dreamy deep house, and some harder to define
musical fusions all appear. It might take a while to get your head
round it all, but it’s worth the effort. Ten Cities is not
without it’s immediate anthems, most notably the alien kuduro of “Boom
Boom Boom”, Octapush’s hook-up with Kenyan combo Just A Band, and the
Jamaica-to-Africa-via-Bristol-and-Berlin dubstep bounce of Rob Smith,
Jah Device and Sasha Perera’s “Work!. There is also some fine deep house
material, including, surprisingly, a 4/4 track from Bristol dubstep don
Pinch, but it’s the more unusual and compositions that hit home
hardest.
“10 Henry Nxumalo Street” by Dubmasta, Hannes Teichmann and Leon
Erasmus stands out in particular. Featuring the distinctive beat poetry
of Afurakan, occasional blasts of discordant percussion, dub techno
textures, bubbling electronics and sublime ambient chords, it’s an
unusual but brilliant chunk of cross-cultural pollination. Given his
pedigree, its little surprise Ukrainian artist Vakula also impresses
with the thrilling, Sun Ra style space jazz of “Jozi Sunset,” a
collaboration with Planet Lindela. Oren Gerlitz and Karun’s “Orange
Green” proves to be a fitting finale; a sparse exercise in electronic
soul and one last musical twist on a compilation that’s full of them.
In conjunction with compiler and highlife researcher Dr. Markus Coester,
Soundway Records present a very special release. Double CD & triple
180g gatefold vinyl (with a bonus 7 inch).
This 45 includes the two first ever recordings by a certain Fela
Ransome Kuti with his band The Highlife Rakers. Recorded by Melodisc in
London in 1960 both tracks have been unearthed after more than fifty
years in hiding.
In many ways this compilation is a prequel of sorts to Soundway's
groundbreaking Nigeria & Ghana Special compilations, telling the
early story of modern highlife's foundation & formulation. It traces
the music from West Africa to London, adding elements of jazz, mambo
and calypso along the way and paving the way for the afro sounds of the
1970s.
Accompanied by a 44 page CD booklet and 12 page vinyl booklet, the
notes by Dr. Coester include rare photographs, labels and advert
reproductions alongside some stunning and very rare recordings.
This two-CD (or three-LP) compilation covers a period of musical history
that remains under-documented but has been hugely influential on the
ensuing half century. It brings together thirty-eight tracks by
musicians of Nigerian or Ghanaian origin, recorded in Nigeria, Ghana or
London, between 1954 and 1966. An indication of the music's vintage is
that many of the tracks were originally issued on ten-inch 78 rpm
shellac discs or seven-inch 45's; however, there can be no quibbles
about the sound quality of the compilation. Those thirty-eight tracks
feature some twenty-five ensembles, ranging from those including
well-recognised names through to quite a few that have long been
forgotten. Irrespective of that, the quality of the music is uniformly
high; the compiler seems to have selected on that basis more than of
celebrity.
The album opens with a track by one of the better
known names, Nigerian-born percussionist Ginger Johnson, who settled in
London after World War II and played in various jazz band and
orchestras. In the fifties he released several singles that were some of
the first recordings of African music released in Britain. In the
sixties he played with many jazz and rock performers, culminating in his
appearance onstage with The Rolling Stones at their Hyde Park concert
in 1969. (Incidentally, Freestyle Records is planning a re-release of
the album African Party by Ginger Johnson and his African
Messengers.) His opening track here, "Highlife No. 5," plunges us
straight into the distinctive dance rhythm of West African highlife
music, a sound which dominates the compilation; the track's free-blowing
horn breaks, also typical of highlife, are certain to appeal to any
jazz fan with a pulse.
Another name that leaps out of the
credits is that of Kwamalah Quaye; better known as Cab Quaye. This
English-born Ghanaian was the son of bandleader Caleb Quaye and so was
part of a musical dynasty that included his own sons Caleb and Finley
Quaye as well as trip-hop star Tricky. Cab had an illustrious career in
jazz bands and orchestras before rediscovering his African roots in the
fifties and forming his Sextetto Africana which blended African and
Cuban music, as illustrated by their track "Son of Africa" here.
But
if any name here is guaranteed to make aficionados of African music sit
up and take notice it must be that of Fela Ransome-Kuti. The future
Afrobeat superstar arrived in London in 1958 to study medicine, but soon
switched to studying music. By the start of 1960 his first
recording—credited to Fela Kuti & His Highlife Rakers—had been
released. Never before re-released, both sides of that ten-inch 78 rpm
single are included here, entitled "Fela's Special" and "Aigana." Heard
in isolation, each of them is a powerful, horn-driven piece that is
compellingly danceable (and destined to be sampled, no doubt!) But heard
in the context of the whole album, they do not stand out as being
special, eloquent testament to the uniformly high quality of the music
here.
Another later track by Kuti—with his Koola Lobitos ("cool
cats")—is also included and it throws light on another aspect of London
during this period. Entitled "Nigeria Independence," the track is one of
three tracks here celebrating independence, another being "Ghana,
Forward Forever" by Lord Ganda & Rupert Nurse's Calypso Band.
Between 1958 and 1966, many Commonwealth countries became independent.
So, during most of the period covered by this compilation, Britain was
still a colonial power, with many London residents having been born in
Africa or the Caribbean. Consequently, the city was a melting pot in
which there was frequent cross-fertilisation between different musical
cultures. As with the Cab Quaye track, there is frequent evidence of
that throughout this album, for instance with elements of calypso being
obvious is some supposedly African tracks. This was decades before the
"world music" label existed, but the influence of one continent's music
on another's was already happening.
In addition to its
thirty-eight fine tracks, this album is a mine of information, including
a forty-four page booklet of rare photographs and notes by Dr. Markus
Coestler, highlife scholar and compiler of the album. Although it is
undoubtedly of great historic interest, the music here is far more than
that and will be a source of enjoyment for many, for years to come.
Generating a well-deserved buzz in NYC’s exploding
afrobeat scene, Zongo Junction electrifies dance floors wherever they
perform. The Village Voice describes their live show as “Sheer energy
with the force of a tractor-trailer that roars with power and noise.”
With five horns, and a six-piece rhythm section, audiences can’t help
but move no matter where the band is playing.
If the Talking Heads produced a Fela Kuti record of
Sun Ra’s music, the product would probably sound something like
Brooklyn’s Zongo Junction, and in an industry where it has become
commonplace to watch bands perform with laptops & backing tracks
instead of live musicians, Zongo Junction takes the stage 11 strong.
“The only thing Zongo Junction has to do to start a legitimate dance
party is show up and plug in – anyone within a square block earshot of
this Ford-tough funk factory would be hard pressed not to join in the
hoopla” says the Bay Area’s SF Station.
Zongo Junction formed in 2009, when drummer and
California native, Charles Ferguson, returned from a six-month stay in
Ghana, West Africa. “Growing up in the Bay Area, I was exposed to a lot
of amazing music from many different cultures, a lot of which had roots
in West Africa. As a kid, a few different music teachers introduced me
to afrobeat, and the pioneers of the genre—Fela Kuti, Tony Allen, OJ
Ekemode, Sunny Ade and others. My love of African music brought me to
Ghana in 2008 and when I returned to New York, I knew I wanted to start
this band.”
In college at the New School, Charles and a classmate
put together a list of friends who they thought would be good fits for
the band. Soon after they started rehearsing, Zongo Junction began
performing and developing a following in East Coast clubs. They made
their first album, Thieves! (2010), which included a collaboration with
longtime Fela Kuti band member, Leon Kaleta Ligan-Majek, and quickly
began performing at venues & festivals around the country including a
residency at Brooklyn Bowl, a main stage performance at the Bear Creek
Music & Arts Festival in Florida, and an appearance at the Kennedy
Center in DC. More recently the band has collaborated with FELA! cast
member Abena Koomson. Members of the band have performed or recorded
with TV On The Radio, Man Man, Easy Star All-Stars and The Walkmen,
among others.
The band is hard at work recording their second
album, scheduled for release in 2013. “In writing this music as a
collective, a lot of really cool new influences have emerged,” points
out tenor saxophonist Adam Schatz. The music on the album embraces the
individual members’ interests, from Dirty Projectors, to Albert Ayler,
Wu Tang to Meshuggah. At the music’s core, you will always find the
infectiously danceable West African grooves that are the foundation of
Zongo Junction. The band effortlessly ties it all together, resulting
in a unique version of afrobeat.
Zongo Junction, a multitudinous Afrobeat collective based in Brooklyn,
sounds better on this LP than it did on its debut EP in 2010. Melanie
Charles’ voice made them more Kuti, but removing the singing has made
them more them. Words were distracting. Now the listener can
concentrate on the patterns of instrumental texture as they’re being
built up and demolished. On the inside of the cover they tell you the
album is “Made for dancing. Please enjoy,” but there’s something more
conceptual going on as well, you realise, when you hear the musicians
spaghetti-ing at the start of “Invented Search”—doing
what?—searching—what can instruments search for?—a tune—but they’re in
a tune. What else could they possibly be in? It’s not surprising to see
free jazz credited alongside Fela as one of the group’s inspirations.
No Discount, No Holds Barred: Zongo Junction’s Hard-Grooving Afrobeat Trip from Accra to Brooklyn
Every journey, they say, begins with a single step. For Zongo Junction, that first footfall came in the Bay Area, when drummer and West African music explorer Charles Ferguson was young. His drum teacher began to show him the wide world of music that was waiting out there. It might have been a long trip since then, and sometimes a strange one, but it’s brought the band all the way to the sinuous Afrobeat grooves of their second release, No Discount (release: July 15, 2014; Electric Cowbell Records). The band is touring the West and East Coasts this summer and autumn in support of the album.
“My teacher exposed me to everything,” Ferguson recalls. “He’d played with jazz greats like Don Cherry and Joe Henderson, but also recorded with guys like Tupac and Taj Mahal. My problem was that I couldn’t fit into a niche; I wanted to try everything.”
Studying music at the New School in New York, Ferguson’s solution was to spend a semester in Ghana, studying traditional music from that region. “It seemed an obvious choice. I already loved West African music, and there’s such a rich history and heritage of drumming there,” Ferguson explains, and the music he soaked up during his travels changed his entire sense of what he to achieve. The dedicated drummer dug into an instrument that bridges melody and rhythm, the Ghanaian Gyil or wooden xylophone, with young but accomplished teacher SK Kakraba Lobi. It not only broadened his compositional skills, but also brought to light Afrobeat’s many Ghanaian connections.
“[Fela drummer] Tony Allen has Ghanaian roots,” explains Ferguson, “and Ghanaian highlife was a major influence on Fela. There are so many connections to Ghana, and hearing Fela drummers like Ghana’s Sisi Frank in person on his home turf, with his loose style, really helped me get deeper into Afrobeat.”
This first-hand experience lit a fire under Ferguson, and when he got back stateside, he knew what he had to do. “Before I left, I wanted to form an Afrobeat band,” recalls Ferguson. “I began to hear the music in a new way after I returned in 2009, and so a friend and I got some of our strongest musician friends together to really dive into the music,” friends who played with everyone from Antibalas to TV on the Radio.
For the first year of its existence, the 11-piece Zongo Junction played covers by the master of Afrobeat, Fela Kuti, immersing themselves in the feel of the music until it became second nature, and completely a part of their DNA. After their woodshedding, they began to work on original material, releasing Thieves! a year later, with former Fela sideman Leon Kaleta Ligan-Majek as a guest on the album.
No Discount finds them further down the road, in a place where musical adventure and the chops of the members can sit naturally next to sweaty Afrobeat drive. That’s a feel so perfectly captured on the opener, “The Van That Got Away,” where a swirl of psychedelia bubbles under an improvised baritone sax solo, while the bass and drums keep the relentless groove cooking.
The album is the product of four years of experimentation and bringing new elements into the sound, so that touches of funk and the avant-garde sit easily over the beat, while electronica and the boom of dub bring startling, unique textures to the music. During that time, there’s been constant gigging and filling the dance floor, taking their time to work up and refine new material, and performing with what the Village Voice calls ”sheer energy, with the force of a tractor-trailer that roars with power and noise.”
For a band so used to playing live, an approach reminiscent of Fela Kuti and his sons’ extensive live experimentation with compositions, it seemed perfectly comfortable to record No Discount live in a studio in Brooklyn, home to the members, and where they’re part of a large community of diverse and creative artists. Zongo Junction packed into the same room, just as they came off the high of a long tour. The approach brings a natural analog warmth and vibrancy to the sound. But the sessions themselves were only the beginning. Guitarist Mikey Hart, who produced, then spent 18 months fine-tuning everything, fretting over every detail, overdubbing percussion and adding layers of synthesizers and tape delay until the record was absolutely ready.
And No Discount justifies all the time spent on it. The music explodes in a massive sound, embracing a range from Fela Kuti to Albert Ayler to Dirty Projectors, everything fitting together as if it was simply meant to be. There are no stars, no egos; this is a group album. “We write as a collective,” Ferguson says. “Someone will bring in a skeleton of an idea or a groove, and we’ll workshop it. The songs have character, every member has an impact on them. It’s a challenging process, and very democratic.”
But it’s also rewarding. No Discount is evidence that Zongo Junction feel Afrobeat at a cellular level; it’s at the heart of all the music they make. Yet it’s what they add that makes them unique, like the way the five-piece horn section tosses around the swell and shimmy of “The National Zoo,” for instance, or the bop influences that bounce over the groove on “21 Suspects In Medina.” It’s a record that’s more than the sum of its parts.
To celebrate the album release, the band will be undertaking its sixth West Coast tour. In many ways, they’re just as much at home there as they are in Brooklyn, one of the world’s hubs for Afro-hybrid music. “Two-thirds of the original band came from the Bay Area,” says Ferguson, “and we’d go home for the holidays. It started out with a New Year’s gig that some of us did in San Francisco when we were home. Even though some of the personnel has changed, it has still kept building there, getting bigger and better with every return.”
Along with the 9-date California trip, Zongo Junction will be staking out new territory, with shows in Colorado, Utah and New Mexico, as well as a debut in Las Vegas, where they’ll share the stage with reggae icon Jimmy Cliff on July 22.
East Coast or West, and all the place in between, the band will light its unique Afrobeat fire. In a digital world, that sense of playing together, of working to get feet moving of taking everything higher, might seem old-school, but they don’t care.
“We’re a little retro,” Ferguson admits proudly, “but we want to do something different, to be unique. The music we make deserves that. We feel like we’re just getting started on this, just getting warmed up.”
1. The Van That Got Away 2. Longtooth 3. Invented History 4. No Discount 5. 21 Suspects in Madina 6. Invented Search 7. The National Zoo 8. Tunnel Bar 9. Unknown Elsewhere
Sia Tolno was born in Freetown, Sierra Leone. Life for her was no bed
of roses: her father was a violent man; her family was forced to leave
their country by the civil war; and she ended up working in the harsh
world of Conakry nightclubs. The inspiring thing about this album is how
Sia Tolno now stands loud and proud among the tradition of powerful
African women such as Angélique Kidjo and Miriam Makeba. This, Tolno’s
fourth and most ambitious album, is her take on Afrobeat. Her
collaborator here is Tony Allen, Fela Kuti’s legendary drummer and
co-architect of Afrobeat. Some 40 years after he set the original
Afrobeat template, Allen still seems to have the same fresh energy as
ever and the duo have rounded up some top-notch musicians for their
band.
The album deals with plenty of tough subjects, from female genital
mutilation to the story of a couple of African migrants found dead in
the undercarriage of a Belgian airliner. One heartfelt number, ‘Rebel
Leader’, is an attack on Charles Taylor, the former Liberian president
and convicted war criminal. Some of the songs are perhaps too close to
Kuti and Allen’s original blueprint, particularly in the brass
arrangements. It’s only when Tolno veers more off-piste, on the
gospel-tinged ‘Manu’ for instance, or on the highlife-tinged ‘Mama’,
that we really hear her own voice, as opposed to a brilliantly realised
re-make.
The call of the groove was so strong and persistent that Sia Tolno finally listened to it. On her fourth album, African Woman, put together with afrobeat veteran Tony Allen, the Guinean winner of RFI’s Prix Découverte 2011 dares to tackle a male musical stronghold.
RFI Musique: This new album has a strong afrobeat edge. Did you listen to that type of music much when you were a child?
Sia Tolno: Not much at home. But out in the street I
did, because that’s where I listened to music. I really liked Fela and
his personality… despite all of his wives! He was a man who didn’t
listen to his critics but simply lived his life. He didn’t come from a
very poor family. He had a good childhood and a decent education, but he
decided to live the life he wanted. I admire people like that. And I
liked the message he put across: I could see that it concerned me,
because African history concerns us.
The lyrics of Rebel Leader are addressed to Charles
Taylor, the former Liberian head of state condemned by an international
court for his responsibility in the war that devastated Sierra Leone in
the 1990s. Why did you want to do that song?
Talking to someone who has hurt you is a way of finding comfort. Even
if he’s in prison and has been judged, tens of thousands of people
would like to send him a personal letter, and since I don’t have the
chance to go and talk to him, I decided to use my songs. I’d really like
him to explain to me why and how he did what he did. How can a highly
educated man like that, with a family, a wife and children, decide to
abandon his love for his country just to follow a political career?
Whatever punishment he receives, he will never be able to bring back all
the people who died. In the song, I say that people talk about him as
if he were a rebel. For me he’s just a zombie.
One of the other songs is about the tragedy of Yaguine and Fodé, two
Guinean children who died travelling in the undercarriage of a plane
flying to Belgium in 1999. Was it something you’d been thinking about
for some time?
It’s an old story, but illegal immigrants are still very topical. When
you speak with your family in Africa, everyone wants to come to Europe
or go to America. If you find a young person who’s lost hope in Africa,
and who has the chance to get into a boat to come to Europe, of course
he’s going to jump at it. And how many people have lost their lives
doing that? The only thing that stops them is the lack of money and
visa. It’s true that the West is more secure, but there are also people
who couldn’t find anything there and who came from Africa. How many of
them, now living in America, sleep on the street?
Afrobeat is a style in which the musicians are very present
and play a lot, with the singer only coming in from time to time. Where
you comfortable with that set-up?
That’s the afrobeat law! Whichever way you do it, there are rules you
need to respect. And Tony Allen made me understand that. I would ask him
if he thought I should sing at a particular point, and he would tell me
if I should wait, or if we should put in some brass, etc. I learned
that whole system in the studio.
Each album that you’ve recorded is very different from the
ones before and after it. Is it because you want to explore different
influences?
I don’t see it like that. There was a young period: for my first album I
was 22 and had just come out of cabaret. It was a bit zouk and funk, it
was difficult to define a style. For the second, I set out looking for
something. E Sanga was very Mandinka. Because I’m Guinean,
Manfila Kanté – may he rest in peace – thought as an arranger that the
album should convey that. I agreed to give it a try, because music is
universal. Then, I went to singing school. I could sing in a range of
scales, but my teacher said he saw me with a deeper voice. I had to look
for the music that went with that voice. That’s what we started doing
with My Life. Then, during our live performances, we changed
the drums on almost every track to make them more afrobeat, and it was
then, with my record label, that we all realized that it was what suited
me best.
But you can’t always plan everything. What do you think the next one might be like?
This afrobeat fits me like a glove and I’m happy to have found what I
was looking for. So the next one will be afrobeat again, but I’ll
improve it.
Looking at your album covers, each one gives out a different image of you. Would you say it was a character trait?
To start with, I’m a very changeable person: I don’t wear the same face
everyday, I don’t know why. It depends on my mood and what I want to
project. What I want to show you is what you’ll see. But it’s nothing to
be scared of! In fact, I think my face is in my heart.
01. Waka Waka Woman 02. Mouka Mouka 03. Yaguine Et Fode 04. African Police 05. Rebel Leader 06. Idjo Weh 07. Djumata 08. Kekeleh 09. Mama 10. Na Mi Yone 11. Reconciliation 12. Manu
There's this bank me and my kids pass every day on the way to school.
The few times they've gone with me through the drive-thru, for routine
financial actions bros, they've acquired a Dum-Dum of varying flavors
bros. But the flavors of high fructose corn syrupsy balls on woven
cardboard sticks means nothing here bro, what this bank has that
pertains to BigMeanSoundMachine is a row of reflective windows.
These windows are a portal to the funky ass motherFuckin' throwback
soundtrack we be rollin' wit on the way to le schoolio brolio.
The first time I noticed the four of us all leaned back lookin' back
at us in motherFuckin' funk heaven, it was a brisk 74 degrees fahrenheit
at 6:45am bro. (That should tell you it was sum sum summertime bro.) We
were pulling up to a red light, all windows were down, the kids were
all lookin' forward, as I peeped our pimposition to my right, I blurted
out a "yoooo" and threw my head into the direction of our reflection. My
kids did something I wasn't expecting, but it sort of tied the whole
room together (as far as the funk was concerned), they looked at
themselves in reflection, nodded at their pimpflection, and returned to
their originally scheduled position of acting loc'd the Fuck out. We
were listening to "WhoaGosh" at the time.
BigMeanSoundMachine
sound like you just caught your reflection in the mirror and you're 77%
cooler than you originally assumed you were in the first place.
BigMeanSoundMachine are the embodiment of feeling fucking delicious.
What used to feel more like a cross between Budos and/or Daptone
scented incense and a case of ice cold Tecate on a hot fucking Sunday
afternoon, is now a luxurious cross between Budos and/or Daptone
flavored micheladas and crawfish boil where there are muthafuckers in
guayaberas and ladies in yoga shorts. It's just fucking intoxicatingly
sexy bros.
Seriously, this latest in the saga of sexual ass BigMeanSoundMachine
releases is a beautiful blend of their regular horny sass, but in
addition to their ever-maturing instrumental conversations, there's a
New Orleans pelvic thrust around every meter. It's like these
muthafuckers were playing a basement in sub-saharan Los Angeles or some
shit, and a Voodoo king happened to be at the In N Out across the alley
and heard their aural deliciousness spilling out onto the street while
monster sauce dribbles onto his pert chin. Rather than reaching for a
napkin to wipe his furious face, he rattles his bones and the assholes
in BigMeanSoundMachine all start sweating from the lower back and tasting cayenne pepper with every blot of the brow.
I wouldn't lie to you bros, the latest BigMeanSoundMachine
album is a fucking balls ass motherfucking cornucopia of horn-spat
delicacies, and rather than merely being hot to the touch, it's fucking
warming to the entire loin region and requires many many concentrated
and unconcentrated listens as soon as fucking possible.
Do not fight, do not rob, but gradually smuggle enough salable commodity, called Afrobeat.
Every now and then you hit the projects, taking in his work threads
Africa. One of them is Big Mean Sound Machine. Fortunately, the American
group, which consists of thirteen musicians, does not like to stick to
rigid divisions. The team from the very beginning came deep in
afrobeatową styling and more. Their music is equally revolves around
jazz, psychedelia from the 60s and 70s, funk, rock, Latin music and
blues. It all appeared on the debut album BMSM - "Ourobors" (2011.). Two
years later the band released their second album Fri "Marauders",
stylistically similar to the previous production, although it was heard
that artists are constantly looking for and experimenting with different
sounds.
At this year's album - "Contraband" Americans have shown that they
are still faithful to their assumptions. Invariably, the whole spirit
hovers somewhere afrobeat Fela Kuti from the area, as well as the New
York-based Antibalas ("In the Name of What?", "Angriest Man in the
World"). It seems that the recordings Big Mean Sound Machine are more
varied in relation to what is proposed Antibals. A good example is the
renovation song "The Soothsayer". Composition "Whoa Gosh", in turn,
brings to mind the achievements of The Souljazz Orchestra. However, in
BMSM is definitely more psychedelic and synth sounds ("Junkies
Everywhere").
Undeniable force BMSM is creative ability of turning a simple topic
in an extensive and multi-layered musical tale ("Crime of Passion"). For
"Contraband" there were also paying tribute to the music of the Arab
world ("Sweet Tooth"). Characteristically sounding guitar solos, which
can be found within afrobeatowej Convention, appeared in the title
"Contraband". The number "Wolfpack" and has much in common with the work
of the group Orchestre Poly Rythmo de Cotonou, which will soon perform
at the OFF Festival.
I very much hope that the band Big Mean Sound Machine also exist in
the European market. With such a repertoire, which presents the American
collective, you can enter - and this without any complexes, each
directory of a major label (which is about a Strut?). Members of BMSM in
a very creative way to reread the afrobeat. I do not treat it as a
substitute, and as the core, giving them the power to create
niebylejakich ideas.
Angelo Peters may be the hardest working man in the Ithaca music
scene right now. Between recently taking over the booking
responsibilities at The Dock (formerly Castaways), as well as booking at
the Loft, and current recording and production work, his 13 piece band,
Big Mean Sound Machine, has managed to release its eighth studio
recording, Contraband, through Angry Mom Records.
Peters and company get a little bit spacey on this one, and it works,
as extra moog and synthesizer effects that accent the expanding horn
sections fit in perfectly. Big Mean Sound Machine, who are known for
elaborate percussion and horn sections, has managed to up the ante on Contraband.
Where before the horns (Alicia Aubin -Trombone, Bobby Spellman –
Trumpet, Jamie Yamen – Tenor Saxaphone, and Remy Kunstler – Baritone
Saxaphone) were more of an accent, on this album, they are the
centerpieces that drive songs like “Whoa Gosh” and “Sweet Tooth.”
Contraband isn’t as much as departure from 2012’s Marauders as
it is a steady transition in the direction of progressive channeling.
BMSM manages to throw every past, present and future jazz, afrobeat, and
fusion great into the grinder and roll them up in one giant spliff,
just to light it up in the front row at the Newport Jazz Festival.
01. In the Name of What?
02. Angriest Man in the World
03. The Soothsayer
04. Whoa Gosh
05. Junkies Everywhere
06. Crime of Passion
07. Sweet Tooth
08. Contraband
09. Wolfpack
