New Music: Golden Afrique Vol. 3, Anga

West Nkosi - Dubaduba (Network 2006)

Hallelujah Chicken Run Band - Mwana Wamai Dada Naya (Network 2006)

Various Artists – Golden Afrique Vol. 3 / Network

I have spent the last couple of days trying to figure out how to approach reviewing the third installment of the Golden Afrique series which compiles some of Africa’s most popular music from the 60s, 70s and 80s. Volume 1 concentrated on the “classic era of African music,” 1971 through 1983, and Volume 2 focused on Congolese dance music. This entry is devoted to the somewhat musically separated southern section of the continent, especially South Africa, Zimbabwe and Zambia. The dilemma is not that I don’t enjoy the music, quite the contrary actually, it’s incredibly infectious and I would recommend it to anybody looking to explore the great music of Africa, but more so I’m worried about not being able to a contribute any significant insight to accompany my recommendation. It is incredibly hard to judge music’s essentiality without being pretty familiar with the genre involved and the options available for comparison. African music is not alien to me by any means; my dad spent his teenage years living in Liberia and while he is not much of a music collector himself, I grew up at least being aware of Miriam Makeba, Ladysmith Black Mambazo and the more popular African artists, not to mention I’ve probably heard every rendition of “Mbube” in its 70-year existence. But even so, while the sound may be familiar, most of the names involved are still very foreign. Don’t worry though, I’m very much up to the task of diving in and giving it my best shot, but for peace of mind, I want to at least point you in the direction of the much more worldly mind of Peter Margasak and his review which points out the fact that this is not the most deeply dug out collection of songs from this particular time and place, but still it acts as an excellent introduction to the wonderfully vibrant scene of African music circa the 20th century.

The first disc concentrates on South Africa and the assortment of musical styles which appeared thanks to imported influences like gospel, jazz, soul and funk being intertwined with local styles of music, and of course the number one reason for a potent creative scene to arise, an oppressing government. For nearly fifty years beginning in 1948, South Africans were forced into a system of racial segregation called apartheid to keep European descendents in economic and political control of the region. And if we’ve learned anything from the history of music, from Tropicailia to Dischord, it’s that a protest song brings out the creative best in artists. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Disc 1 kicks off with original version of Solomon Linda’s “Mbube” from 1939, the longest legal battle songwriting has ever seen I believe (you see Linda sang “imbube imbube imbube imbube weeeeeeeeeeeee” and we sing “wimoweh wimoweh wimoweh wimoweh weeeeeeeeeee” [scoff]). The comp jumps nearly fifty years into the future with the second track, Ladysmith Black Mambazo’s “Hello My Baby,” an obvious spiritual descendent of “Mbube” and in the a cappella isicathamiya style that would eventually and rightfully be called mbube. From here on out though, the connections are less stylistic between the songs than geographical and spiritual. For example, the third track from a group/man called Abagqomi, who I can find no information about, has almost this Celtic vibe going on and a far cry from anything mbube. Also included in this disc are a number of recognizable names like the Soul Brothers, Hugh Masekela, Chris McGregor and Mama Afrika herself, Miriam Makeba, who puts forth a subtly funky political shout-out not falling too far from a Sly & the Family Stone song. Makeba’s one-time husband, Masekela joins Letta Mbulu (listed as Letha Mbulu) for an arousing soul song and jazz pianist McGregor contributes an excellent sprawling closer featuring early ska-tinged big band, post-bop, soul and hints of free jazz. But compilations like these are for discovering new artists and unexpected sounds, so let’s tune in to a few of the ones that are at least new to me. “Dubaduba“ from alto sax player West Nkosi is a wonderful song that would be described as funk if not for the absence of drum breaks, instead it rides on an elating mix of bright guitar chops, Nkosi’s wailing sax and hand shakers. The proclaimed “king of the groaners” Mahlathini and the Mahotella Queens offer “Thina Siyakhanyisa,” with an incredibly infectious tinny guitar tone and a rhythm that makes sitting still impossible, while Reggie Msomi’s Hollywood Jazz Band have a wonderful first wave ska jingle that makes “Midnight Ska” sound more New Orleans than anything else.

If you are an African music aficionado and are looking for significantly lesser known acts, head right on to the second disc which focuses more on Zimbabwe and Zambia. There is not one artist I recognize on this disc from my personal experience, but you can bet I’ll be keeping a watchful eye out for their names in the future. I am assuming that the majority of them are playing within a particular local style, which is a name I cannot provide for you but know that bright, bubbling electric-guitar and high-hat rhythms are the norm. The Four Brothers track “Guhwa Ur Mwana Waani,” which probably dates back to the very late 70s, is a great example of this and actually reminds me a lot of benga music minus the strong drummer presence. Smokey Haangala’s “Ba Kuluna” is on along the same lines, but either recorded much earlier or without the help of advanced production (I swear though, Haangala may have gotten a hold of some British pop records prior to laying down this song because there is some different influence). Similarly, Oliver Mtukudzi sounds like he was influenced by classic rock with the rolling organ line and loose groove; in fact, southern rock may be even a closer assessment! My favorite track of the entire compilation has got to be Hallelujah Chicken Run Band’s “Mwana Wamai Dada Naya” though. I guarantee it is one of the catchiest songs you’ll ever hear thanks to Thomas Mapfumo and his traditional Shona music mixed with modern funk and upbeat rock. The rest of the disc follows suit in variety, including Dolly Rathebe’s Billy Holliday-like jazz-blues, Master Chivero’s pre-Congotronic sound and Safirio Madzikatire’s use of a didgeridoo and ufo-like synth waves.

As Margasak said, it’s not the most essential or unique collection of songs ever compiled from the wonderfully creative and eclectic cultures of South Africa, but it’s incredibly contagious. If you are widely schooled in the region, this may not be as eye-opening to you as it is to us just approaching the intimidating (in the sense of expansiveness) scene, and really you should be doing us all a favor and put together your own compilation. But don’t be discouraged, Golden Afrique is a caringly put together series that is meant to reach the younger, rampant collectors like we Audiversitarians and expose us to the many exciting sounds of the world we otherwise may have never been able to experience. And next time (though I’m pretty content to just spin this one over and over), I’ll be a little more apt to write an insightful review.






Angà – Gandinga Mondongo Sandunga (Nonesuch 2006)

Angà – Echu Mingua / Nonesuch

I've probably just not been looking hard enough or at least in the wrong places because quality Latin-jazz is hard to come by these days. After completely immersing myself in the world of Tito Puente, Ray Barretto and Pucho, anything post-1990 comes off over-produced or cheesy in comparison. While I'm sure there have been a good number of exceptions to my bitching, one in particular does stand out which not only received the much coveted Audiversity seal-of-approval but also a little known award called a Grammy. Ry Cooder's exploratory trip to Cuba brought us the wonderfully nostalgic sounds of Ibrahim Ferrar and the Buena Vista Social Club almost a decade ago now, but since then, a good majority of the Club including Ferrar, Compay Segundo and pianist Rubén González (not to mention Puente and Barretto) have all left us for the great dancehall in the sky. We also lost another excellent Latin-jazz last year whose death went sorely unnoticed because he had yet to break into the American mainstream, but Nonesuch is making sure that he is not completely overlooked with the American release of Echu Mingua (which already received critical acclaim in the U.K.). Miguel "Angà" Diaz contributed not only to the Buena Vista Social Club, but also the precursor LP by the Afro-Cuban All Stars and even most of the spin-offs from both acts, but perhaps because of being in the next generation of Cuban jazz stars, he had yet to gain worldwide recognition. Echu Mingua very well could have been that breaking-out album as Angà explores the relationship between the African, Cuban and DJ cultures with a good amount of success.

Angà was mostly known for his five- (and sometimes seven-) conga technique, which was originally pioneered by Irakere drummer Lazaro Alfonso who Angà replaced after Alfonso's untimely death. That acclaimed Cuban jazz group brought Angà a lot of recognition (and a couple Grammy's) in the late 80s and early 90s before he left to explore other genres like avant-garde jazz and hip-hop. These influences are easily heard on Echu Mingua as Angà and his band, including bass player Orlando "Cochalto" López, Malian singer Baba Sissoko Sissoko, Parisian avant-garde flautist Magic Malik and pioneering French hip-hop star DJ Dee Nasty, ride a fine line between each genre. Obviously this is not the first time we've heard Latin music mixed with some turntablism, but very few seem to live up to the musicianship and quality of music heard on this album. Angà jumps styles frequently from the all out Latin party jam of "Conga Carnaval" to the classic Cuban sound of "Pueblo Nuevo" to jazz standards like Coltrane's "Love Supreme" (and a great rendition at that) and Monk's "Round Midnight" to the hip-hopish "Freeform," but he gets the most interesting results when he mixes up the styles. The classic Latin-jazz tune "Gandinga Mondongo Sandunga," for example, is built around Angà's tonal congas, but let's everyone solo in a post-bop-like manner while ghostly turntable scratches tie everything together. Or "Oda Maritima," which unites Argentinean music with Cuban and African percussion and features a fluid string section, an excellent bandoneon solo and subdued spoken word from Yinka Oyelwole. On only a few occasions does the music ever drift into over-the-top or cheesy form leaving about 75% of the album incredibly intriguing. Sadly though, Miguel "Angà" Diaz passed away last August at the way-too-young age of 45 and by the sound of Echu Mingua, we may have lost one of the most promising and pioneering Cuban jazz artists of the last generation.