Tárkány Művek (Tárkány Works) is a group of young musicians from
Budapest, Hungary who, according to their website, "weld the raw energy of
traditional Hungarian folk, the intellectual rigour of classical music,
and the spiritual depth of avant garde jazz and poetry."
Not knowing the language, it's hard to tell about the poetry and spiritual depth, but there's certainly something of jazz here, particularly in the sax solos of Gergő Kováts.
"What we would like to achieve," says band leader Bálint Tárkány Kovács, "is to transform contemporary improvisative music – that is often called jazz – in a way that it becomes more Hungarian. We will forge rhythmic arrangements, melodic progression, ornamentation, and lyrics into an organic whole."
There's a lot of traditional Hungarian music here, including this track, the title of which translates as "So Much I Love You," sung by Julianna Paár in a way that reminds me more than a little of Márta Sebestyén from the Hungarian folk group Muzsikas. Enjoy your introduction to Tárkány Művek!
Live version of a song that appears on the album Introducing Tárkány Müvek. Check out the Soundcloud link below for more samples. Some of the songs are manic flurries, others (such as "Csak egyszer voltam boldog / Once in my Life I Was Happy") are slow, melodic, and somber. And don't miss "Nyisd ki babám / Open up Baby" -- a Hungarianization of the jazz standard "On the Sunny Side of the Street."
I've only just been introduced to Tárkány Művek, but I feel certain I'll have more than a passing acquaintance with their music, a jazzy take on an already engrossing musical tradition.
SoundRoots doesn't do a very good job hiding our love of Afrobeat. But then, why should we? More Afrobeat groups are popping up around the landscape, and established groups are showing staying and innovating power.
Which brings us to the subject of today's post, Akoya Afrobeat. I first ran across this NYC-based group with their 2004 CD, Introducing the Akoya Afrobeat Ensemble. The group currently includes 15 musicians from around the world (Nigeria, Benin, Botswana,
Japan, South Africa, and the USA), showing something of the universal appeal of the music and its vibe of resistance to (abusive) power. And its danceability, always its danceability!
Akoya followed up in 2008 with the sizzling P.D.P (President Dey Pass) -- and now another four years have passed, they're ready to record again, and they're looking for your help.
The band has a kickstarter project, which you can learn about here:
I'll leave you with a full track of Akoya's wonderfulness, and hope it entices you to support the band's project -- and to support (or form!) your own local Afrobeat group.
I'm thinking about bugs today. Well, still thinking about them. If you caught last week's episode of Spin The Globe, you'll understand why. And if you didn't catch it, then you missed this, um, gem from a certain Liberian Congress-Woman.
I'm sure I've written about Malinda Parker before, but it's worth mentioning her again for those who may be new to SoundRoots. Or those who just want something different -- very different -- to grace their earbones this week.
Others have compared Parker to Tom Lehrer and Nina Simone; I'd put her in close company with Joseph Spence as well. She pounds on the piano with no small skill, and sings a coherent melody, but it's all teetering on the edge of madness in a most fascinating way.
The generous listener may find her eccentric; others may think she's just nuts. But she's certainly entertaining. This 5-song album includes a longer(!) version of this anti-mosquito public service announcement, in which she creates several new ways to pronounce Rachmaninov while playing something based loosely on his music. This shorter version has more of a tipsy-ragtime-calypso feel, and she manages to say the word "cousin" more than 200 times (someone else did the counting, not I).
If you need more Parker, check out the compilation Songs of the African Coast: Cafe Music of Liberia, which is where I first heard her, performing several songs with the slightly more subdued piano work of Prof. Howard B. Hayes.
Parker indeed was, by the way, a member of Liberia's House of Representatives during the administration of President William V. S. Tubman.
Okay, so I didn't make it up to HonkFest West last weekend. I know, I know... but I did get to a great African show with three acts and a Sounders game, and got to spend quality time with my sweetie. And I'm not at all reluctant to say that the sweetie trumps even the most electrifying festival. (Though often I get both her and the music -- best of both worlds!)
So... I have a horn-shaped hole in my heart this week. Fortunately, the new album from Markovic and son is just the thing to fill it. Not new material, this CD called Golden Horns, but something of a greatest hits things, with material drawn from Devla, Go Marko Go, Boban i Marko, and various other albums and remixes (Frank London, Robert "BalkanBeats" Soko, and Dunklebunt have their fingers in this pie).
Informative liner notes accompany the music. The biography of Boban Markovic tells how easily distracted he was as a child, straying from the family tradition of musical performance (passed down from his father and both grandfathers). Aspiring musicians who've been told by their parents that they should choose a more practical career path may be amused by the story about how Dragutin Markovic had to sit down with 10-year-old son Boban and lay down the law. His destiny, dad insisted, was the trumpet.
We can all be thankful for that talk, thought Boban never had to have a similar talk his own self-motivated son Marko, who taught himself his father's songs, joined the touring band at 14, and was given creative control of it on his 18th birthday. Today, this family has sprung some of the most delicious Balkan brass music to grace my earballs, from the swing of "Rromano Bijav" to their speed-brass version of "Hava Naguila." If you don't have their other albums, this is a fantastic place to start. If you do have the rest of the discography, well, you should still get this.
Here's one you can dance to.
[mp3] Boban i Marko Markovic Orkestar - Golden Horns : Sljivovica
Are CD compilations just official mixtapes? Or are they great starting points for introductions to new artists/genres? Or are they little more than attempts by greedy record labels to squeeze out more profits by cherry-picking the best songs from otherwise mediocre albums?
Yes, sometimes, and perhaps.
I'm thinking about compilations because of a new set I recently received of African music. More on those in a moment. First, a bit of my own history with compilations.
I'll admit that I've met a lot of great musicians through compilations. Two albums that stand out in memory are Shanachie's 1990 album of South African jive The Indestructible Beat of Soweto, and the 1992 Cuban compilation Cuba Classics 2: Dancing With the Enemy. Repeated listenings burned the songs -- by the likes of Amaswazi Emvelo, Conjunto Rumbavana, Nelcy Sedibe, and Celeste Mendoza -- into my brain, where they reside still.
Later I found discovery in many of the early Putumayo World Music compilations, and perhaps even more in the Rough Guides -- both of these series include enough information about the artists to get one started in further explorations. And the annual collections assembled by the late BBC icon Charlie Gillett were always great for a few new discoveries. (Charlie, we miss you!)
For every memorable compilation, however, there seems to be an evil twin, a CD thrown together with little thought, mixing styles, countries, or artists in a haphazard way that's far from memorable. Even Putumayo seems to fall into this rut now and then (I challenge you to give a definitive definition of the distinctions between their "Groove," "Beat," and "Lounge" series). The rest of you…you know who you are.
And then there are the geographically challenged albums I recently received from Lusafrica: African Voices, African Guitars, and African Rhythms. Oh, where to start! Trying to represent any aspect of "African" music on a single CD is asking for trouble.
More than a billion people. More than a thousand languages. At least 54 different countries. All in an area so big…well, see the graphic.
So this trio of CDs is definitely out looking for trouble. African Voices has 16 tracks, I see, and they seem heavily weighted towards Cape Verde (Teofilo Chantre, Cesaria Evora, Boy Ge Mendes) with nods toward Guinea (Sia Tolno), Zimbabwe (Chiwoniso), South Africa (Mahotella Queens), North Africa (Malouma, Hasna El Becharia), Congo (Wendo Kolosoy), and Madagascar (Rajery). But some of the most powerful voices and styles are missing: Senegalese mbalax, Ethiopian jazz/funk, Egyptian wedding music, Nigerian Afrobeat…. Yes, it would be difficult to include all of these on a single CD, but Lusafrica decided the breadth of the categories, not me.
The other CDs also have both strengths and omissions (no Louis Mhlanga on African Guitars? Please!). Also curious is the repetition: The Mahotella Queens and Angola's Bonga appear on all three CDs, and several artists make double appearances. But given the restriction of a mere 48 tracks, is this repetition really the best approach? Could you really not decide whether African Guitars or African Rhythms was the best fit for Cameroon's Sally Nyolo (for that matter, why not, instead, African Voices, seeing as she's primarily a singer)?
Okay, rant done. And I don't mean to pick on Lusafrica too much, since they're a wonderful label with usually stellar offerings. But these three albums --while they may provide great entry points to a broad swath of music for the African music newbie -- are surprisingly lacking in focus (and in useful liner notes). Listeners deserve better work on the collection, even if the individual songs and artists are great.
Don't give up on compilations; but look closely at the details, since quality will vary -- even from a normally high-quality label.
For a more targeted survey of specifically South African vocals, check out National Geographic Music Explorer's 2004 album Voices of South Africa. Here's a great, energetic sample for you:
Be sure to catch Spin The Globe this Friday for tracks from all of these albums, and more. Listen live, or catch the show archive later.
The attentive reader will notice a heap of brand-new entries this month, from Chilean rap diva Ana Tijoux and Lebanese trumpeter (and batucada leader) Ibrahim Maalouf to some feisty modern Brazilian music by Maga Bo and flamenco funk by NYC-based Caramelo. I'll write more about some of these album soon, but click the links now for more info and song samples.
Did I miss a new release that's found a spot in your heart? Let me know...
Billed as a psychological thriller, The Mirage is begins by skewing the world we know into a parallel universe where on 11/9, American terrorists hijacked planes and attacked the United Arab States, a federation encompassing most of the Middle East and North Africa.
It's a promising start. And an engaging one, as Ruff manages to develop complex characters even as he presents mind-curdling twists of our reality: North America is fractured into several religious nation-states (though there's little word on what's happening in the Pacific Northwest), Timothy McVeigh is a CIA agent (that's the Christian Intelligence Agency of the Evangelical Republic of Texas), Saddam Hussein is a corrupt union leader, Osama Bin Laden is a member of the UAS Senate, and the go-to Internet reference site is The Library of Alexandria.
The cultural flip raises great questions about the morality and motivation of players, both occupiers and resisters. And it's fun to see how Ruff unveils a new twist every few pages, even as the plot unfolds towards an unexpected revelation about Muslim mysticism's role in the order of things.
Yet somewhere after the 300th page of this 400+ page adventure, I found myself losing interest and reading just to finish. A major character popped up, and I had no idea who he was. A climactic gun battle and a final walk toward ambiguity later, I was done, but I felt a bit cheated.
Maybe it was me; perhaps I lost focus someplace in the book. But this is unusual for me, so I'm thinking it might have been the storytelling (or editing) that missed a note, or simply hurried along toward an impatient end. There's a lot to like about The Mirage, but it's not going to displace 1Q84 as my favorite recent read about mind-bending alternative realities.
Is there a word for the gravitational pull one can feel for cultural tradition not one's own? There should be. I'd use it often, particularly in reference to the various musical offspring of the Jewish and Roma diasporas. Something there is about this music. And today, specifically, the Ladino music of Ljuba Davis, whose new album East and West I'm enjoying as I write.
Curiously, this album reminds me less of other Ladino music I've heard recently (which, admittedly, is skewed in a particular direction due to DeLeon), and more of Greek music. But then, common links persist around the Mediterranean, where local music is brewed from ingredients provided by Jewish, Moorish, Roma, Visigothic, North African and Greek immigrants, travelers, and workers.
Davis' ancestors were among those expelled from Spain in the 15th Century, though her proud grandmother told her never to forget her Sephardim roots. But it took a trip to Barcelona to spark her into action recording new songs along with songs that had been in her repertoire for years.
“When I sing some of these songs. I don’t do it in the way that some people envision Ladino music. Perhaps it’s part of some genetic memory, way, way back in the prism of my mind,” Davis says. “But for the music to be real, I need to sing it the way I feel it now, with more of a contemporary rhythm and with great joy. I simply love this music.”
I'm a little puzzled by the decision to release an "instrumental" version of each of the eight tracks along with the versions on which Davis sings -- partly because they aren't fully instrumental, but rather include all the male backing vocals but omit Davis' voice. Um, Ladino karaoke, perhaps?
Ah, wait... reading further, I see that this is for the purpose of "allowing listeners to sing along and learn the melodies—and to honor the Orthodox prohibition on men listening to female vocals." Though Ladino karaoke works, too. Once I learn some of the words myself (lyrics available here), I'm sure I'll be singing along with these lively songs as well. Like this one about the might of God.
Okay, bad pun. But great music from a duo + 1 that will be appearing live this week on my radio show Spin The Globe (website / facebook). Consider this your only preview/warning.
We're talking Finnish strings here, from the duo Kaivama (fiddler Sara Pajunen and guitarist/harmoniumist/pianist/banjoist Jonathan Rundman) along with their fiddler pal Arto Järvelä.
Kaivama's recently released, self-titled album is their first, while Järvelä has been making music since 1983; his discography includes work with Varttina, Maria Kalaniemi, La Bottine Souriante, JPP, even local (Seattle) folks Ruthie Dornfeld & John Miller, as well as a heap of Finnish bands I'm not familiar with.
While I'm looking forward to hearing and seeing the trio live, the music at hand today is from Kaivama's album, a rich assortment of stringed sounds ranging from schottische to polka to waltz, many rooted in western Finland, though several tracks are Kaivama originals. They play beautifully together (and Arto joins in on a couple of tracks) and while I'm not ready to declare Finnish fiddle music the next big thing in the USA, the joyous, skilled work Finnish-American performers is certainly a great ambassador for string sounds from the chilly north.
Hey - just a quick note that Monday's mp3 got this week off. I've got a few things to post, and will try to get to something in the next day or two.
In the meantime, check out the three sneak previews on this site of Khaira Arby's upcoming CD, along with an interview with the Malian singer. Good stuff!
This may well be the quietest album I've ever featured on SoundRoots. It's a simple duo, the second outing by German-born trumpeter Volker Goetze and Senegalese vocalist and kora player Ablaye Cissoko after their 2008 collaboration Sira.
The songs on the new CD, entitled Amanke Dionti, embrace an even more intimate feeling, the three elements -- trumpet, voice, and kora -- blending as if they were created just for this purpose. There's a quality here that one finds in great music and art -- a deceptive simplicity that belies the practice and work, sweat and effort, that go into making any thing of beauty.
The remarkable chemistry comes from the duo's extensive touring after the release of Sira. It's a focus that verges on the spiritual. Or perhaps it indeed crosses into the spiritual. “When we play," Goetze explains, "we are simply playing in a state of mind much like meditating. Any great performer knows how to get into his ‘zone,’ and it amazes me that we can stay in that zone for over an hour every time we perform live."
While album's songs are instrumental or sung in Cissoko's native language, the title Amanke Dionti means "she is not your slave,” a reference to the Senegalese tradition of poor treatment of young women who are sent by their families in poor remote areas to serve as maids for more prosperous urban families. There's also a song called "Haiti" about the geological and political devastation of that island nation.
The duo's social consciousness is nice to know about, though it may pass most listeners by. What most will focus on is the subtle interplay of these two master musicians, unfolding like the petals of a flower over the course of each of the album's seven tracks. Highly recommended!
Yes, it's Tuesday, but I'm still calling this Monday's mp3. Such is the power I wield over the Internets.
The power of words is more elusive for me today. For example, I hadn't realized how strongly I associated the word "Babylon" with a certain musical style. Now as you undoubtedly know, the historic city of Babylon was the center of a powerful civilization, and was located some 85 km south of present-day Baghdad. The Bible tells how Babylon got so powerful and arrogant that God cursed the inhabitant to speak in many different languages so they could no longer understand each other, then scattered the people throughout the world.
Curiously, my subconscious didn't link "Bablylon" with Iraqi music. Or or even Middle Eastern music in general. When I recently received a CD called Life Sometimes Doesn't Give You Space from an unknown group called Light in Babylon, my mind told me it reggae. No question.
But it isn't.
In fact, Light in Babylon is an international group, with an Israeli singer of Iranian origin (Michal Elia Kamal), a Turkish santur player (Mete Ciftci), a French guitarist (Julien Demarque), and friends from these and other nations.
Their music is Middle-Eastern flavored, though it crosses boundaries liberally and doesn't hew strictly to any particular tradition. Their mission, the band's website says, is to give "through music all the love, hope and peace that it carries in his heart
with the wish that every human will follow the vision of a world full of
light."
So, I stand corrected. And it makes me curious how the reggae set so co-opted the concept of Babylon in music. And in my mind. I'll look into that. In the meantime, enjoy this fresh engaging album.
At least I still have power over the days of the week.
Now that I've heard the Australian band Bombay Royale, it seems so obvious. Why wouldn't it? Heaps of old Bollywood recordings seem to be floating to the surface of the global-music ocean (think A.R. Rahman collections, or Bollywood Bloodbath). And everyone from Singapore's Dick Lee to Benin's Angelique Kidjo has jumped on the Bollywood bandwagon at some point. So why not a new band playing this old music?
Bombay Royale is for lovers of Bollywood films and the old scratchy recordings by Mohd. and Lata and Asha and the like. Only without the scratchy. Vocalists Parvyn Kaur Singh (“The Mysterious Lady”) and Shourov Bhattacharya ("The Tiger") give authentic voice to the songs, with retro-sounding duets such as the title track "You Me Bullets Love." Meanwhile, the music swerves from horn-driven, organ-saturated tunes that wouldn't sound out of place from Dengue Fever ("Monkey Fight Snake") to driving surf-rock ("Jaan Pehechan Ho").
There's tabla here, but you're not going to mistake this for traditional Indian music. Bollywood has always had its own musical language, borrowing heavily from the pop music of the West. Today that means funk and hip-hop mixed in with bhangra, but there's something particularly charming and excessively fun about Bombay Royale's take on the Bollywood of the 1960s and 70s.
Crunching through the data tonight, and slamming out the chart before tomorrow's radio show highlighting tracks from these albums. I'm off to bed... but feel free to peruse the included links while I slumber. Of special note is The Bombay Royale -- an Australia-based purveyor of retro-Bollywood sounds. Just got their album, and can't wait to dig into it further. Enjoy!
I went to the music fair,
The Funk Ark from DC were there.
Mr. Will Rast, the head of the cast
Played keyboards with spice and flare.
From Afrobeat jazz and funk,
They've built some brand new junk.
Their second CD is out April 3
If you're not dancing, you're a punk, a punk
If you're not dancing, you're a punk.
Apologies to the Animal Fair, but the energy and rhythm of this great sophomore album from The Funk Ark just seemed to fit its meter somehow. Says Rast:
Funk seems simple, but it takes an almost spiritual dedication to the music to play it well. When we’re playing at our best, the music becomes greater than the sum of its parts. What we do requires each player to contribute a small, but integral, part of the whole; when we all lock into the groove, it becomes a sort of meditation.
For listeners, we're not talking a Buddhist-silent-retreat-in-the-serene-mountains kind of meditation, but a Gnawa-style-dancing-and-sweating-and-eyes-rolling-back-in-your-head kind of ecstatic groove, with musical foundations in R&B, Afrobeat, Latin, and other influences. Check them out.
Transportation and technology seem to make anything possible these days in terms of musical collaboration. SoundRoots hears news and music from many genre-busting, border-defying artists and groups, which makes us generally quite happy. Not all are musically successful, but each is (at least in theory) a step toward a more globalized music, a more interconnected and understanding world.
Now and then one of these releases truly stands out, however. Like today's subject, the new album Dugu Wolo from Athens, Georgia-based Adam Klein. I'm not familiar with his previous releases, for which reviewers seem to use terms like "dusty" and "rustic." Of course, it turns out that such terms fit well with West African village life as well. Perhaps this is the link between Georgia and Mali.
Perhaps what I like best about this music is that Klein, while singing in Bambara, sounds natural, comfortable. He sounds like who he is: an American deeply steeped in West African music. But rather than try to lose himself in this "foreign" tradition, he seems to find himself it it. You won't mistake his singing for that of Habib Koite or Salif Keita or any other African, and I love that. It makes this album ever more a bridge between two worlds.
Klein developed an interest in Malian music while in the Peace Corps. Returning to Bamako in February 2010 to record the songs on this album, he rounded up some great -- though unknown to me -- Malian musicians: Souleymane Tounkara (guitar), Abdoulaye 'Kandiafa' Kone (ngoni), Djeli Mory Tounkara (kora), Lassine Dembele (calabash), Drissa Diabate (tama), Abdoullaye Koussoube (djembe), Aiche Kouyate (vocals), Baba Simaga (karagnan), Bocar Sissoko (bass), and Zoumana Tereta (njarka), along with fellow American Judith Gilbert (flute).
With that many musicians, you might expect a big sound. But Dugu Wolo has a quiet, instrumental feel, like an evening jam session under a tree with children running about. Except that the recording is clear and distraction free. It's released on Klein's own label, Cowboy Angel Music.
The liner notes do a great job telling Klein's story, including a chance taxicab meeting with Djelimady Tounkara! He tells a bit about the recording of the album as well:
I was in Bamako expecting to record at a particular studio, but the plans fell through at the last minute. So I was stranded. I had a filmmaker with me, and four days to make the album. Solo Tounkara took me to Baba's studio one afternoon, and we arranged to record there. The following day I went in and played and sang the songs on acoustic guitar, and it built from there. Solo added some guitar, calabash came in, kora, ngoni, then tama. The songs were built quickly. We didn’t labor over sound or vocals. It’s meant to capture the songs in their pure, natural form, and speak for itself. And I think it achieves that in a really compelling, lasting way.
This month's Top 10 includes a new face at the top -- the ebullient Malian musician Fatoumata Diawara, whose debut album is a stunner. Also new: the achingly beautiful beautiful album from Iraq-born, Canada-based Serwan Yamolky and friends, a blast of funk from The Funk Ark, and edgy accordion from Tref.
Of special note is the compilation Samaya, a benefit for ailing "world music" pioneer Cheb i Sabbah. With 22 tracks (more than two hours of music!) from artists such as Karsh Kale, Nitin Sawhney, Natacha Atlas, Bill Laswell, Bombay Dub Orchestra, Kailash Kher, and Zakir Hussain, it's no lightweight, and is filled with the kind of trippy, sometimes electronic, always compelling Middle-Eastern/Persian/Indian flavors that populate Cheb i Sabbahs' own releases. Your purchase, and prayers, support his recovery.
It was in May of 2011 when doctors told me that I had stage 4 stomach cancer and it had spread to my left lung and liver. I was given a less than six months sentence to live. They were wrong in part of their diagnosis; they did not take into account the power of prayers and love from the thousands of friends, fans and families that i received. It is because of your love, prayers and generosity that I am still alive today. After a major surgery and three months of intensive and painful chemotherapy in Germany, I have opted for phase two, an alternative and more holistic approach to healing in India and the US.
I'll admit right up front that Chinese music isn't my area of deepest knowledge. I appreciate the periodic pipa album and grok the guqin, but I also know there's a world of music from this huge country with 56 recognized ethnic groups (and other unrecognized groups).
So it was with delight and no small degree of ignorance that I greeted a recent email informing me of the first North American tour of a group called Shanren.
Here's a taste of their sound:
Shanren
Through original compositions and reworkings of traditional songs, Chinese folk-fusion band Shanren present a rich facet of Chinese culture that historically has been known largely through myth. Hailing from three different ethnic groups in the Yunnan and Guizhou provinces of China—the area thought to have inspired the Shangri-La of James Hilton's classic novel Lost Horizon—the four musicians in Shanren update the indigenous music of their home provinces adding a dose of rock and influences from across the globe.
In March, Shanren embark on their first North American tour. While funding will help offset the cost of visas fees, plane tickets, and lodging for the musicians, this crowdfunding campaign is not just about making their tour a success, but also creating a genuinely interactive cultural experience. Along with bringing their infectious live shows to the east coast of the US and to Toronto for Canadian Music Week, Shanren are offering unique opportunities for fans to experience southwestern China’s culture and music through Fuel options such as private music lessons and handmade instruments. (press release)
A good chunk of their tour is done, but they still have several dates:
Monday, March 19 - Iota Club & Café, Arlington, VA
Tuesday, March 20 - The Saint, Asbury Park, NJ
March 21-25 - Slacker Canadian Music Fest, Toronto, Canada
And a couple videos:
Shanren "30 Years" on Vimeo. (Shanren wrote the lyrics to "30 Years" to evoke the difficulty of finding love and work in the big city, like the many Chinese citizens who come to large cities as migrant workers.)
* the post headline refers to a report in Time Out Beijing that the band can work its audience into such a frenzy that they (the audience) tear their shirts off in ecstasy. The men in the audience, anyway. Which one might suppose is not a usual concert behavior in strictly regulated China.
SoundRoots fans of the less traditional persuasion will appreciate what the folks over at Raw Music International have been up to. Billing itself as a "TV show dedicated to underground music in overlooked corners of the world," Raw Music is hosted by Chicago-based Cyrus Moussavi, filmed by Louisville, KY-based Angela Shoemaker, and unconstrained by national and genre boundaries.
On the project's website and blog, Moussavi discusses the evolution of his idea:
As the project developed, the idea of connecting like minded young people in unlikely locations also began to consume me. As I hung around young musicians and artists in the US, I wondered why they weren’t thinking about what their peers were doing in Angola or Afghanistan. But when the only news coming out of these places is predicated on misery and war, it’s not hard to see why people aren’t thinking of reggae or soul. With Raw Music International, we’ll show the human side of places normally ignored between natural and social disasters and, in the process, share the world’s most glorious jams
Much of their work centers on Kisumu, Kenya. Wonder how rappers make their hits, or how to throw a dance party for kids in the middle of a slum? Check out their videos. Or head over to their Bandcamp page for a mixtape of underground sounds they've recorded. Note that some of the hip-hop backing music isn't exactly SoundRoots material; but as one creator explains, actual instruments are very expensive, and he can make his music with just a laptop, a microphone, and Fruity Loops software.
Here's a clip of the show's intro for you to watch while we wait for word of when and where we can watch full episodes:
Sauti Sol is another bullet in the gun aimed at the heart of the term "world music." Though rooted in Kenyan music, the quartet also employs gorgeous harmonies (inspired both by church music and Boyz II Men) and some fairly raucous electric guitar. Their infectious sound is clearly African, is so universal and energetic that they reportedly were a spark that reinvigorated live music performance in Kenya, which had largely sunk into a karaoke/playback mire.
Even if you don't grok the Swahili lyrics on the band's new album, Sol Filosofia, there's no mistaking the good vibes on the R&B-gospel-flavored "Awinja" or the vocally nimble "Nambee" Elsewhere there's a slow-burning rock-ballad feel on "Sofia" and a surprisingly effective integration of an English nursery rhyme with darkly sweet original lyrics about a father on "Row Your Boat."
“Africans are put in a box, always squeezed into one category,” says Sauti Sol vocalist and sax player Willis Chimano, “but we refuse to stay there.”
When I say "music of Austria" what comes to mind? Be honest: It involves om-pah-pahing, alpenhorns, and/or yodeling, doesn't it?
But come on, you and I both know that Austria isn't some rural backwater without internet access. So what happens when Austrian kids with mad drumming and techno skills decide to update old folk songs? I'll tell you what happens. Attwenger happens.
Imagine They Might Be Giants on a European ski trip, spending all day on the slopes listening to a blend of hip-hop, Chuck Berry, punk, and the folk songs of the Alps on their iPods, then staying up late into the night to make music. And that's Attwenger.
The duo's creation was something of a happy accident, according to the duo's drummer, Markus Binder. "One evening we had drum set on stage for a show with our traditional band. I wasn’t really a drummer; I just played for fun. I sat behind the kit and the others played traditional stuff, and it worked. ... This is the amazing thing: All these traditional tunes, polkas, and Alpine country sounds fit with punk or rock or hip hop drums. It works really well, but it was a surprise. Then we saw that this is the future."
Well, I don't know if its the future; I'll be more than a bit surprised if the next big thing is Alptronica (others have dubbed it Quirkabilly or Turbopolka) but Binder and accordionist Hans-Peter Falkner have created a fun and surprising music that works for the present. Most of the lyrics are sung in an Austrian slang that probably only a tiny proportion of the world's population will understand, but it's easy to understand that this is music meant for dancing and generally having fun.
My first encounter with Moldavian band Zdob si Zdub was with their 2003 album 450 De Oi (450 Sheep), a fascinating if uneven blend of traditional folk and hip-hop. I've missed a couple albums since then, and they've undoubtedly gone to other interesting places before arriving at the current pop / punk / folk / rock blend on display in their latest release, Basta Mafia!
While some tracks, like "Running," have the short-shelf-life feeling of mediocre Western pop, the band generally hits more interesting notes, from the energetic ska-flavored title track demanding and end to corrupt practices, the electronics+guitar-driven touring-trevails song "Gypsy Life."
Though their music has some connection to traditional Eastern European folk, this is thoroughly modern stuff. Turns out you don't need Gogol Bordello to have a collision between punk and Gypsy; the natives are doing it for themselves.
You'll notice that in just three paragraphs I've used a remarkably variety of terms to describe the band's music: folk, hip-hop, punk, ska, Gypsy, electronic. All accurate, and yet just part of the story. An interview answer shows that even the band themselves have trouble defining their musical style.
The fact is that we will never fit under a standard term of musical styles. Hard to say. It seems we use some ethnics, but we do not seem to be ethno-rock as such, but we also are not completely underground, not hardcore. It is not clear at all. We are very difficult to identify. This is not an easy substance. Well, probably, our main feature is that we are always on the brink.
Bottom line: you probably won't call this "world music." Maybe "Euro-rock with ska/punk sensibilities." But for a moment, forget about musical labels, and listen.
Since the Grammy Awards axed a number of global categories, I'm even less inclined to pay any attention to them. Not to mention their penchant for attracting more attention for their unseemly celebrity performers than for the music they're supposed to be celebrating.
Now, inspired by a post listing "54 Artists That Somehow Never Won a Grammy..." I thought I'd spend a few minutes with the Grammy Winners' Database and see just how many worthy global artists had won.
I was surprised. Sort of. Of all those I input, mostly off the top of my head, only Ali Farka Toure was among the winners.
Here's a list of 30 key global artists, several of which are shocking omissions (Hugh Masekela? Bob Marley??) and others worthy, but probably unknown to the US pop machinery that drives the awards.
No Grammy for You: Global Artists Unrecognized by the Academy
01 Fela Kuti
02 Umm Kulthum
03 Oliver Mtukudzi
04 Khaled
05 Googoosh
06 Mulatu Astatke
07 Thomas Mapfumo
08 Hugh Masekela
09 Malathini
10 Mohatella Queens
11 Rachid Taha
12 Tarika
13 Rosa Passos
14 Seu Jorge
15 Rebirth Brass Band
16 Salif Keita
17 Boban Markovic
18 Fanfare Ciocarlia
19 Kayhan Kalhor
20 Asha Bhosle
21 Lata Mangeshkar
22 R.D. Burman
23 Vusi Mahlasela
24 Te Vaka
25 Bob Marley
26 Manu Chao
27 Hossam Ramzy
28 Susheela Raman
29 Djelimady Tounkara
30 Tony Allen
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