Hora Kota

Exile is a terrible thing, but its pain has often been a hugely creative spur for many artists. The subsequent homecoming can be a triumphant vindication, but it usually comes too late to be the impetus for fresh creative heights. Once Masekela and Makeba returned to South Africa in the early 90s, for example, neither of them produced anything to rival the potency of the work that poured from them during their long absence from home. The years and the struggle had taken their toll – or perhaps with the battle won, there was nothing left to stir them to greatness. After long decades spent in exile in Holland, France, Belgium and Portugal, the 68-year-old Bonga is now back in Angola, the country of his birth which he fled during the independence struggle in the late 60s. Unsurprisingly, Hora Kota (The Time of the Elders) lacks the urgency and intensity of, say, Angola 72, his debut release, which prompted the Portuguese colonial authorities to issue an arrest warrant for sedition. Rather, it is a ripe, mellow affair of acoustic folk melodies in the local semba rhythm, sung in his ever-huskier voice. Bonga's huskiness is not a challenging Waits-style rasp or menacing Beefheartian croak: it's more of a mellifluous, whisky-stained voice of experience. Think of Paolo Conte, or Rod Stewart in his Great American Songbook persona – but an octave lower. It's lovely stuff, the sound of a man content to be back home, but who has learnt too much on his travels ever to sound complacent.