Pop Music 101 :: new music, short reviews

A two disc, 26-song overview documenting Bembeya material from the ‘60s and ‘70s, when they were considered to be at their peak. Bembeya Jazz National were a Guinean jazz orchestra started after Guinea declared independence in 1958. The government immediately set to work sponsoring native art, specifically music. They disbanded groups considered to be musically under colonial influence and in their place created ones that were anchored in Guinean traditions. Bembeya was the most popular and successful group to emerge from the project (they’re the perfect argument for paternal government), and in their homeland they’re stars. The songs alternate between high-energy and mournful, all beautiful and inspired. The horns are up front, the harmonies tight, and the rhythm has a decidedly Latin influence (so much for cultural purity). Perhaps the star of the show is the lead guitar player, Sékou Diabaté, a.k.a. “Diamond Fingers,” whose playing is fluid, complex and consistently stunning. He’s considered one of the best guitarists West Africa ever produced. Western equivalents to Bembeya in terms of popularity also happen to be household names the world over; in this way, it seems globalism is more about Americans talking and never listening. Or think of it another way: can you imagine somebody saying, “Only popular in America”?

Another two disc retrospective from the eminent Stern’s Africa label. This outstanding 18-song career overview is pulled from both album and single releases. Papa Wemba, one of Africa’s mightiest musical forces, hails from The Democratic Republic of Congo, although at the time of these recordings it was still Zaire. His sound, while maintaining signature West African elements, is stripped down, even leaning toward rock with the emphasis often on guitar, drums, and vocals. While many of his contemporaries opted for a relaxed sound, Wemba insisted on a more aggressive approach, a style that came to be called soukous (“Loni” is all drive with pounding drums and relentless guitar). The brilliant “Analengo,” included here, was a top selling single in Zaire in the year of its release, 1981. The recording levels often sounds like they’re bouncing around in the red, the vocals sometimes distorted. You could be cynical and blame that on equipment. To my ears it sounds like heights reached from a passion to rival James Brown. And that’s something no equipment could’ve tamed.

The new, reformed Go Betweens are not the same Go Betweens that played from 1978 to 1990. Two of the founding members are still present and their overall pop and literary sensibilities are intact, but c'mon, it's a decade-and-a-half later, they've changed. Newer fans are forgiving of the differences between now and then; older fans are tough lovers, though. This is a shame, because when you get past the obvious effect time has had on these sensitive troubadours you might just realize that, well, not enough has changed to warrant any grand pronouncements. Twenty-five years ago Robert fell in love with a librarian ("Karen") and he still knows the working class can be smart ("Born to a Family"). Grant, for his part, is still trying to recreate his definitive time recaptured song, "Cattle and Cane." While his rhymes sometimes fall down ("Been fifteen years since we last spoke / The wounds have healed on my throat"), he can still write a gorgeous melody ("Boundary Rider"). Scattered all over are the spare and tasteful guitar leads that decorated their classic mid-80s period. Hey, some of Oceans Apart is better than select mach I GB's moments, and I say that as an old lover. No reason to complain, no reason at all.

This project had been planned for ages, and John Peel’s untimely death provided the bookend. What a document: 24 sessions and 97 songs spread over six CDs. Not only is the up and down evolution of Mark E. Smith and band all here, but what’s really exceptional is that this is the alternate recorded history of the band in all its guises. Some of these songs never made it to record, and many of them took different shape, sometimes radically, by the time they did. And then there are those that were re-imagined afterwards. Paradoxically, this parallel history is perhaps the most thorough documentation of their long reign of influence. A friend wondered about the effect of playing all six discs simultaneously. Well, obviously Mark E. Smith’s voice would emerge from the clatter, which itself would sound like a brilliant unreleased track, with the hidden message: “We are the Fall-uh, listen-up-uh!” The only thing missing from the recordings, sadly, is Peel’s between song commentary (“I’ve run out of superlatives for this band”). For Fall fans this is the most important release in ages, maybe ever.

It starts in high gear and never lets up. The drums, composed of pots, pans and car parts, are relentless. The rhythmic, distorted clanging is a veritable symphony of amplified likembes (thumb pianos), which gives Konono their signature sound. The likembes sometimes sound like the work of gutter guitar, and sometimes, on the more gentle side, xylophones played like a rock instrument. The sound system from which this all flows is also DIY, erected for the purpose of playing street parties. Konono No. 1 are a twenty-five year running group from the Congo who have taken a rural influence, made it urban, and now, at last, this is the document for history and you, who’ll probably miss their next party. Highly original, so much fun, and begging to be heard at high volume.

Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings
Naturally
(Daptone Records, 2005)

Sharon Jones has done what many passed off as impossible, or at least what very few others are doing: she's made an outstanding contemporary soul album. Most died-in-the-wool soul (yes, classic soul) fans, just like real country fans, refer to the genre in the past tense, and most of what now gets heard they kindly call pap. But then, listen closer, good stuff is always around, only it hides underground; Jones, for her part, seems to exist in that thin space between the underground and the surface, just waiting for a week-long stand at the BB King Blues Club. There's nothing rough or gritty here and she mostly recalls the ‘60s and ‘70s, when the bands were relaxed and loose and the vocals were given a lot of freedom to move about. This is a good thing because Jones’ voice could stop a truck topping the speed limit. The real surprise might be the completely re-imagined version of "This Land is Your Land." You won't even blink. On "How Long do I Have to Wait for You?" things get funky as the band repeats a mellow Meters grove underneath Jones' patient longing. On “Stranded in Your Love” she and Lee Shields trade lovers’ blows with echoes of Carla and Rufus. Yes! Yes! Yes!

Jim and Jennie & the Pinetops
Rivers Roll on By
(Bloodshot, 2005)

Rivers Roll on By comes as something of a surprise. For these young disciples of old-time and bluegrass, a far more contemporary influence is now apparent, namely '70s country-rock, wherein things became less country and more rock. "Mt. St. Helens" is the perfect example, sounding like something straight off Harvest-era Neil Young as sung by Emmylou Harris. Front man Jim Krewson takes on the drums, providing the requisite steady backbeat (as he does on other songs), and the result is sublime enough that I hope they don't turn around their time machine. On his songs, Jim can be funny, as always ("Quit Barking At Me"), but the highlights here are Jennie's. More her, less him, I find myself politely requesting. At this rate, they'll soon be into the '80s, which they might do well to skip, which would then put them, well, who knows where. Maybe they ought to remain stationary for the time being, nobody would say anything unkind if they did. Yeah, sell the time machine. It’s perfectly with the times to remain 30-odd years back.

Electrelane
Axes
(Too Pure, 2005)

Fifteen years ago Electrelane would have fit perfectly with a few bands that more than a few people fell profoundly in love with, namely Th’ Faith Healers and Stereolab. But that mini-moment has passed and so it’s welcome that along come Electrelane to remind why it was so exciting in the first place. The music is wrapped together in a buzz (organ, harmonium), and the rhythm pounded out Kraut-style by the almighty bass / drums combo. The vocals, when present, hover lightly above everything else. Here and there they lean toward pop (“If Not Now When?”) but stretch the songs out before they allow them to fold, pop-like, back on themselves. This is their third release, and some of the more exciting rock I’ve heard this year.

Laura Cantrell
Humming By the Flowered Vine
(Matador, 2005)

If, by chance, you’re wondering, then yes, Ms. Cantrell is my Queen of Country. Her faith in and commitment to the genre is unrivaled. Her voice is so classic, so sincere and, well, pretty darn sweet. Here in New York City she seems to be reaching the people in her noble quest to make country the official soundtrack of the five boroughs. I’ve got your back, Laura. On this third album, which I prefer to her second one (the first one is untouchably first-class), she delivers 10 songs of what it’s like to be a normal person. On “14th Street” the singer falls in love with an anonymous but oft-cited fellow pedestrian (more common than you might think). And in the heartbreaking “Letters”, an unreleased Victoria Williams’ tune, she reminds of us of what it’s like to get some real mail. Substitute email for letters and the song would never work. Music to play for the person who says they don’t like country but you know they really do deep down. Then again, maybe there’s something wrong with them.

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Adrienne Casey does more than listen to music, but not much. She lives in New York City and is a regular contributor.

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