Top of the World

Listening to the Gangbé Brass Band in full flow is a bit like hearing a Welsh colliery or British army band, through a sonic prism of African timbres and rhythms. All the ingredients are there: crisp trumpets and trombones, scuttling tuba, even at times a rattling snare drum. But this music is for dancing, not marching. With an additional array of West African percussion, this super-tight Beninese outfit make irresistible dance floor-filling music. Gangbé means ‘sound of metal’ in the Fon language and the all-male ensemble are very much a product of Benin’s heritage, having taken military instruments from the colonial era and allied them with local percussion and rhythms as well as jazz influences, creating something unmistakably African in the process.
Assiko is the band’s third album and it is energetic and joyous. Tracks such as ‘Un Été à Vodelée’ and ‘Yonnatche’ are a sustained swirl of instrumental sound that never lose an ounce of rhythmic momentum. Like all good big bands, the Gangbé Brass Band’s approach is to dazzle, with complex, feet-moving riffs and tight ensemble playing laying the groundwork for brief soaring solos. Some songs include group singing and chanting, something that is probably more successful live, but which nonetheless adds to the humour and genial feel of the album. In fact, the overwhelming impression of Assiko is that the Gangbé Brass Band would blow the roof off any stage they were put on.
Tim Woodall

When Elana James’ fiddle met Whit Smith’s guitar back in 1996 they instantly bonded over their love of Western swing and hot jazz. Adding bassist Jake Erwin, the trio devoted themselves to recreating the vintage sounds they loved. The difference is, for them Western swing is a way of life, not a retro style to be ironically picked over (as you might say of Dan Hicks). Now re-formed, there’s probably no finer exponent of this noble genre (with the possible exception of Asleep At the Wheel). It’s a special combination of the music of Django Reinhardt and Stéphane Grappelli, of Hot Club de France fame (hence the band’s name), and a belief that no matter who’s in Texas, Bob Wills is still the king. On tracks like ‘I Can’t Believe You’re In Love With Me’ or ‘I Had Someone Else’, Smith’s guitar approaches the kind of lightning jazz chops that Les Paul could pull off in his heyday.
This collection of their Hightone recordings mixes up 1920s and 30s gems with self-penned tunes. James’ and Smith’s own compositions are every inch the equal of the standards they cover: a sure sign that they take this kind of fun very seriously indeed. And now it seems the wheel has gone full circle. During the Hot Club’s hiatus after 2002, James served time in Bob Dylan’s backing band. And anyone who’s listened to Dylan’s Theme Time Radio Hour or heard his last three albums knows that he regards this music as an integral aspect of his creative muse. Suddenly this gentle, good time music doesn’t seem quite so quaint or hokey. This is a mighty fine place to start digging the real sound of Austin.
Chris Jones

No one could dispute the strength and influence of Malian singer Oumou Sangaré – she is one of Mali’s most famous musicians and internationally one of Africa’s most recognised voices – and this album just screams power. Her voice, rich and golden, sounds as if it is rooted to the depths of the earth and her instruments – ngoni, balafon and djembé – reverberate with a depth and resonance that would be hard to match elsewhere.
Her myriad fans, both in Africa and around the world, have waited six years for this new release and it would be hard to imagine anyone being disappointed; it is all of everything she has given before and more. With biting commentary on African social ills, irrepressible funk rhythms and touching melodies from the Wassoulou region of southern Mali, Seya is a massive album of 11 big-hitting tracks that leaves the listener breathless.
It is, however, pleasure that must be earned. With a set of lyrics in French and English that reads more like an instruction manual on how to right the world, these are weighty songs that speak of the malpractice of polygamy (she herself was abandoned as a child by her father, who went off with a second wife), immigration, women’s suffering and forced marriage. They are rich with metaphor, full of images and similes, as is Oumou’s unmistakable way. Highlights include the majestic ‘Senkele te Sira’, recorded in one take during a studio soundcheck, and the zesty ‘Mogo Kele’. Oumou has matured; she is now fully in control of her deeply impassioned music, ensuring that this one will go down in the annals of music history.
Rose Skelton

Reprezent is the second album from the man who is fast becoming the greatest Czech musical export since Dvor?ák or Janác?ek. Even for newcomers, the instant appeal of Radoslav ‘Gipsy’ Banga is not hard to fathom: driving upbeat Roma instrumentation, incisive lyrics and fluid vocal delivery, all combined with plenty of tongue-in-cheek hip-hop swagger. Where much European hip-hop fails due to its aspiration to be nothing more than an imitation of its American heroes, Gipsy.cz defiantly bucks the trend. Yes, he can’t resist occasional gangsta clichés of posturing, money and bitches, but when a musician can combine the sun-drenched good vibes of rumba (‘Benga Beating’) with devastating one-liners about overcoming racism in Czech society, as on ‘Barvoslepej Sve?t’ (Colour-Blind World), you just have to sit up and take notice. Alongside the sharp lyrical delivery, bouncing guitar and accordion rhythm sections are plenty of catchy vocal hooks, and Banga is no slouch at singing either. The whole package is so good that even the rapping in dodgy English is somehow convincing. Overall, this is an album that is both great world music and first-rate pop in the best sense of the word.
Lemez Lovas

Back when parts of Scotland and Ireland formed a single kingdom, Gaelic was their common language, only latterly diverging into its distinct national variants. It’s this once-shared history and culture that the multi-award-winning Scottish Gaelic singer Julie Fowlis and Ireland’s Muireann Nic Amhlaoibh, of the band Danú, set out to reunite here. They’re joined by Fowlis’ husband and Nic Amhlaoibh’s Danú colleague Éamon Doorley on bouzouki (lute) and fiddle, and by Scotsman Ross Martin on guitar, on an album whose beautifully apt title translates from Gaelic as both a verb – to braid or entwine – and a noun denoting one’s inheritance, not forgetting the connotations of the word’s English meaning. Besides some stunning solo numbers from Fowlis’ native North Uist and Nic Amhlaoibh’s West Kerry traditions, most tracks duly and deftly interweave material from both, with some combinations based simply on rhythm, melody or theme, but others adroitly reflect the intricate mesh of incident and influence at work. One standout medley, for instance, features a Hebridean waulking song, a haunting slow flute air and a funeral march, all relating to a celebrated 17th century Scottish soldier who died fighting in Ireland, while a set of Kerry polkas highlights their evolution from the marches and strathspeys introduced by the Scottish Coast Guards stationed there in the early 19th century.
The mix of vocal and instrumental material displays Fowlis’ and Nic Amhlaoibh’s prowess on whistles, flute and bagpipes, as well as their radiantly matched singing, while sterling work from Doorley and Martin lends further judicious colour and rhythmic weight to what’s clearly a collective labour of love.
Sue Wilson

There’s so much to say about this pretty, magical disc by Galician singer Uxía. Its guiding theme is the Atlantic ocean and its voyagers, linking Galicia to Cape Verde, the Azores and Brazil. And, somehow, recording in the Vale de Lobo studio near Sintra in the Azores with Paulo Borges as producer, Uxía has captured all the seductive musical styles of those places in her songs. The album’s like a dream that takes place in an open-air nightclub facing the sea: it’s intimate, nuanced, subtle and minimalist – yet spacious, with nothing precious about it. The musical core is a trio, with Borges playing cool piano and accordion, Marco Santos on drums and percussion and Yuri Daniel on double bass. Other superb musicians guest: Ruben Santos adds in dashes of trombone, Davide Zaccaria contributes cello, while singer-guitarist Manecas Costa brings gorgeously understated guitar.
The feel for each song is subtly different: from the tango inflections of ‘Sen Ti’ to the sinuous ‘Rumores de Falúas’, the flow is spot on. Uxía has a serenading voice that dances and caresses simultaneously, even when singing upbeat rhythms, as on the swinging ‘Berenguela’. She’s joined by the equally fine voice of Zeca Medeiros for the traditional Azorean song ‘A Lira’, and by Sara Tavares and Júlio Pereira for the yearning version of ‘As Nosas Cores’ that closes the album, for which Pereira plays all the accompaniment on mandolin, guitar and synthesizers, with slightly eerie effects that pull it back from sentimentality. This is a beautifully crafted piece of work: don’t overlook it.
Jan Fairley

François Luambo Makiadi – ‘Franco’ – is the figurehead of Congolese music, a national hero, satirist and social commentator, and arguably Africa’s greatest ever bandleader. Since his death in 1989, his musical legacy has been subject to reissue attempts by several different record labels – some worthy, some shoddy. The Francophonic double CD is the first half of a reissue set that chronologically sequences some of Franco’s most significant recordings and presents them in a cohesive and respectful package.
The first three tracks (taken from 78rpm shellac discs) pre-date Franco’s legendary OK Jazz group and include one song recorded at his first studio session, in which, aged just 15, he confidently accompanies his mentor Dewayon on guitar and backing vocals. Clearly a precocious star, Franco and his young pals launched the OK Jazz group in 1956. Within a couple of years he had assumed leadership of the group, being responsible for musical arrangements and the most prolific composer. Eighteen songs on the first CD take us up to 1971 in a blast of fast Congo rumba, Cuban-influenced Afro-Latin hybrids, and revamps of Congolese folklore music. By its end, the music is conclusively Franco-esque, particularly on songs such as the dreamy ‘Boma L’Heure’, a tribute to Franco’s female camp followers, and the uplifting classic rumba ‘Infidelité Mado’. The second CD contains ten longer tracks and commences with the mighty ‘Azda’, a stirring promotional song for a Volkswagen dealership that sounds like it ought to actually be one of the world’s great love songs. The OK Jazz sound prevails through the remaining tracks with its wall of guitars, swathes of horns and shuffling rhythm section underpinning glorious vocals from Franco and the group’s other robust singers. The track selection cannot be faulted and songs like ‘Mabele’, ‘Chérie Bondowe 2’ and ‘Alimatou’ certainly rank amongst the high points of the 1970s OK Jazz output.
What makes Francophonic stand out, in addition to its 28 golden songs, is the 48-page booklet, which concisely annotates each song amidst some wonderful black-and-white period photographs. Whilst a truly definitive retrospective of Franco would warrant a 20-CD box set, Francophonic makes a worthy substitute. Roll on volume two.
Martin Sinnock

Seven-string guitars are popular in Russian music and a staple of Western heavy metal; in Brazil, the seven-string violão de sete cordas is a nylon guitar that logically offers a greater musical range and the potential for new arrangements of classic pieces. In the hands of the 28-year-old guitarist and composer Yamandu Costa, all logic is lost in a flurry of breathtaking musicality. Mafuá is his first solo recording and it switches between samba, choro and tango with blistering dexterity, his fingers flying through scales and arpeggios with explosive speed.
It opens with the frenetically charismatic ‘El Negro del Blanco’, Costa’s whistle matching the guitar note for note. There is an intimacy between player and instrument throughout this album that makes each track a piece of pure performance. On the title-track (one of only three tracks not composed by Costa) you can hear the extra depth of the lower string as Costa showcases the style of counterpoint and accompaniment that the violão de sete cordas allows. There’s the raw ‘Samba Pro Rafa’, the heart-wrenching ‘Zamba Tuerta’ and the captivating ‘Caminho de Luz’ – all of which pay testament to a guitarist who looks set to become one of the leading lights in Brazilian music. This is an album of joyous virtuosity that should be a must-buy for anyone who loves the guitar.
Matt Swaine

There’s something utterly enchanting about this collaboration, so honest and unapologetic in its mission to merge Malian kora (harp-lute) and North American banjo music, that from the very first cascade of the two instruments together, to the sawing, edgy fiddling and banjo weaving on the old Appalachian favourite ‘Chinquapin Hunting’, the listener is riveted.
Jayme Stone, a young Canadian banjo player, decided to go to Mali to find out what kind of music had been left behind when slave ships brought instruments like the ekontin and the ngoni from West Africa, finally evolving into what we know today as the banjo. He met kora player Mansa Sissoko and the pair came up with this recording, which is so much more than the sum of its parts.
Many of the tracks are old West African favourites, and anyone familiar with Toumani Diabaté or Baaba Maal’s repertoire will recognise at least a couple of the songs. Some of the songs have nothing to do with West Africa at all – although Stone claims to hear strains of Wassoulou music (a Malian form) in some of the Appalachian tracks such as the frenzied ‘June Apple’ – and this album is a great chance for fans of one style to become acquainted with the other. Constant throughout both styles is the completely natural-sounding marriage of the banjo with the kora and ngoni. The banjo seems to adapt just as naturally to old West African musical lore as the kora is able to roll up and down an Appalachian mountain favourite. The whole thing just seems completely at ease with itself; a real joy to listen to.
Rose Skelton

Hwang Byungki (b 1936) is the most celebrated of Korea’s musicians and composers, a specialist on the most evocative of the country’s traditional instruments: the 12-string gayageum (zither), also heard here in an updated 17-string version. Hwang’s most celebrated compositions feature on four albums recorded in the 70s and 80s, which are still available in Korea and have been distributed internationally by the Korea Foundation. This album features works from either side of the new millennium and two previously unrecorded 70s works, including daegeum flute and kagok lyrics as well as the zither itself. The later works here include the meditative ‘Darha Nopigom’, based on a children’s song, ‘Sigyetap’ (The Clock Tower), recalling the hospital where Hwang was born, and ‘Chahyangije’ (Two Poems on the Fragrance of Tea), designed to accompany the tea ceremony. The two older compositions are the solo flute ‘Jasi’ (Night Watch), complete with a central spoken classical Chinese text, and the evocative zither-plus-voice arrangement of ‘Moon of My Hometown’.
Compared to the four earlier albums, the compositions licensed here to ARC evoke Hwang’s meditative, philosophical character, as he has matured into a contemporary equivalent to the classical scholar-musician of earlier times. Extensive liner notes are provided by Andrew Killick, a Sheffield-based scholar who has studied with Hwang for two decades. These are superb recordings of significant works played on the best-loved Korean instrument by its most celebrated living exponent.
Keith Howard