The Karindula Sessions: Tradi-Modern Sounds From Southeast Congo

A giant banjo, made out of an oil barrel, a goat skin, four strings and an empty bag of powdered milk is radio-mic’d up. Buzzing with reverb, its sounds are underpinned by tribal rhythms and chants and accompanied by entertainers who can dance while balancing bottles and spinning steel wheels on their heads. Yes, it can only be the latest release by Crammed Discs. And as expected, it’s a good one: raw, rhythmic and pulsing with an urgent, barely contained energy, The Karindula Sessions is a live album recorded by Crammed’s indomitable Vincent Kenis in the mining city of Lubumbashi in deepest south-eastern Congo. Here, as previously evidenced in Kinshasa with the electrified likes of Konono No 1, tradi-modern music rules.

In this instance it’s karindula music, a sound named after said big bad banjo and accompanied by singing, a second smaller banjo and drums whacked with sticks. Karindula is big news in the Congo’s Copperbelt. Recorded in the mining city of Lubumbashi during a three-day festival, this live audio and film recording of four different bands captures exactly why. There’s a compelling snakey energy to karindula which, with its loping reggae vibe and incendiary lyrics (in Bemba, Swahili and Tshiluba) explains its appeal to the region’s rebel youth. The hip-winding, bottle-on-head dancing sharpens its edge. ‘Shake these things (hips)’, shout the members of Bena Ngoma, whipping up a battle of the bands. ‘Let's find a way to evolve together’, they add, keeping it real. Phenomenal stuff.