By February 2, 2006
Oh, how boring indie rock can be! All of those vintage jackets and unwashed manes and Smiths referencing and Pixies posturing and monosyllabic band names ending in “s” can get a little redundant. How much further can this really go? Do you really think that you can access the profounder depths of humanity through handclaps and cowbells and yelling “Yeah!” with a twee inflection? While everyone spent 2005 attending block parties with parading wolves and folk singers who actually have the balls to name themselves “Panda Bear” without a shred of irony, the best release of the year crawled conspicuously and silently ashore.
If you’ve never heard of Konono No. 1, then that would not really be surprising. After all, street bands from Kinshasa, Zaire don’t exactly make the cover of NME or Spin. But for a band with a paucity of resources that relies on magnets from used cars and wooden microphones for amplification, Konono No. 1 manages to produce the most furious, resonant, propulsive and essential album in a long time. For those who are looking for something that approaches with ferocious energy what it means to be alive, Congotronics might be a good place to start.
Imagine if Aphex Twin got down with Fela Kuti and you might begin to gather an impression of the immense and hypnotic sound that pours from every corner of Congotronics. But that comparison hardly does anything to give an accurate picture of the kind of sound that this group has fashioned – this truly is music so unique and remarkable that it has to be experienced to be understood.
Formed over 25 years ago, the group employs musicians, singers and dancers as part of their act. As much indebted to indigenous tribal music as it to ragga and experimental punk a la The Boredoms, Konono’s sound is a dense and highly percussive collage of bongos, snare drums, whistles and the group’s signature instrument, the likembe, or thumb piano. Due to their homemade amplifiers, Konono’s music predictably came out heavily distorted, an unintended effect that they eventually embraced. Congotronics (the first in an intended series of compendiums of urban Zaire artists) represents a compilation of six studio-recorded songs and one live performance.
What’s remarkable is that, despite the studio pedigree, the album does not compromise the raw, gritty edge essential to the music. All of the distortion that has become intractable from the music’s aesthetic effect is retained.
This is trance music par excellance, and if the sheer force of it does not subsume you the relentless rhythm surely will. What at first appears to be a chaotic mashing of elements reveals itself to be highly calculated and practiced movements in time, and by building itself into such deep rhythmic structures, the music lends itself numerous dimensions of feeling, whether they be celebratory, rebellious or spiritual. The band members consistently play off the energy of their counterparts, enveloping themselves in orgiastic crescendos only to tear them down and begin again. This is music that is essentially and undeniably human, dripping in the sweat and saliva of corporeal toil, and comes closer to approximating the energy of moving, breathing bodies than any Thom Yorke lyric ever will.
By February 2, 2006
Modern pop music loathes empty space. By today’s standard, no pop song can survive without the constancy of bass lines or thumping drums. While this constancy has saved many tunes from their own flabby lyrics and melodies, these backing beats oft lend themselves to annoying repetition.
That’s why P:ano’s latest work, Ghost Pirates Without Heads, must elicit a sigh of relief from pop critics everywhere. The first track opens with a plunk plunk plunk and then halts, to let the notes linger in silence. Tiny breathes of silence refresh the otherwise simplistic instrumentation on the EP.
Each performance sounds as if it was recorded on the beaches of a lost isle, far removed from a professional studio. Most of the eleven tracks are stripped of percussion, relying heavily on only a handful of instruments and a trio of dulcet backing vocals.
The lyrics here are expectedly sweet, fittingly matched to a twee ukulele, but appropriate for the Neverland themes strung about – from the spooky to the adventurous. There’s plenty of whimsy too, as the playful title suggests, though the lyrics aren’t nearly as eye-rolling as Mellencamp’s cheeky toss-offs. Pop’s simplicity fosters passive listening, but P:ano’s music invites listeners to revel in the delicacy of the songs, so to tune in attentively to each rather than let the notes wash over them.
“T’ Hatch Says ‘Round E’vry Corner’,” one of the EP’s highlights, opens with the tiny, clear chords of a ukulele. The hushed thump of a tight drum, puff of a bass clarinet, and wheeze of an accordion follow, simultaneously introducing the song’s snappy tempo. The vocals slide into the mix cautiously, replacing the accordion. Singer Nick Krgovich adamant optimism is wonderfully endearing. Nick is gonna shimmy into the future, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
The disc is appropriately brief, as the sweet harmonies would cloy if the playing length stretched any longer than 30 minutes. “Animal Friends” ends Ghost Pirates with a slightly melancholic tone. The thumping drums that gave earlier songs a snappy beat ease up, and let a more contemplative accordion fill the space around the vocals. It’s the adventure’s dreamy closer, gently carrying l isteners back into the noise of the real world. Slightly sad and slightly sweet, it was certainly was a nice trip, one that I’d recommend taking.