Showing posts with label xenophilia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label xenophilia. Show all posts

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Indonesian analog set

Here's a band I just thought about for the first time in a while — one of the more tasteful meldings of indie rock and non-Western sounds, though I guess I usually go for weirder efforts. This species of indie rock recalls the comfy propulsive drone of the American Analog Set. Which means that the hammer dulcimer doesn't really mesh with that DNA, but it least it doesn't clash. The effect is like traveling in the Far East and trying on local clothes that make you look neither convincingly local nor cluelessly foreign. Which is not really bad ground to occupy. (OK, maybe 'occupation' isn't the best word.)

Macha - Capital City

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Sunshine

Is sunny Afropop a substitute for the experience of actual sunshine? Some among us would argue that seeing the sun make its progress from behind a window would qualify as seeing the sunshine. I am not one of these some. But this voice is nearly enough to lift my face out of darkness and into the shape of a smile. The drum machine helps too.

M'bilia Bell - Shawuri Yako

Friday, July 23, 2010

Sweet Africa

The Ethiopiques compilations—featuring Ethiopian pop from the '60 and '70s—have offered an embarrassment of musical riches over the last decade. Not only as an archival exercise, but also a valuable corrective to Western pop conventions, especially with singers. Notwithstanding the Joanna Newsoms of the pop map, it's really amazing how narrow our ears are in terms of vocals. We're awfully conservative in what we consider tonally pleasing. And we're even less tolerant of melodies that color outside the bar lines. A lot of Ethiopian stars would be considered novelty acts in America.

Here's a track from more recent times, involving Ethiopian and European musicians together—a little smoother and whole lot clearer than the older jams. I like it because the singers are doing pretty things that unsettle at the same time—a piercing lead melody that charts like a sine wave and a response that trills and grunts. It takes a minute to sound natural, but when it does, it's a breeze of new and friendly air, as lilting as the music behind it. Oh and also I appreciate any soprano saxophone that doesn't make me want to set myself on fire.

Yèshimèbèt - Medo Hane