Fongola

The most exciting thing about this Kinshasa collective is the extraordinary alchemy by which they turn pure building blocks of harsh, dissonant noise into compelling 21st century music. Like their famous Congolese predecessors, Konono No 1, they cobble their instruments together from old junk – everything from plastic bottles to a toaster – and their French producer and synth operator Débruit incorporates electronica that evokes the best 1970s Krautrock while aurally cementing the whole thing together.

But this is no mere clinical studio exercise. I saw the band perform in a grim London basement club earlier this year. Dressed in high-visibility yellow boilersuits (in tribute to Devo?), they demonstrated the fine art of turning landfill into floorfillers with real aplomb, exuded extraordinary energy and charisma as they got a typically aloof, hip young crowd dancing their socks off from the opening number right through to the close.

Fongola is their debut full-length album, but it feels much more like a confident second or third release. It's also one of those rare records that reveals something new each time you play it. This is without a doubt my ‘world music’ album of the year so far.