192: The Shed Sessions (1982-1986), by The Bhundu Boys

The Bhundu Boys (Zimbabwe)
The Shed Sessions (1982-1986) (2001)
29 tracks, 146 minutes (2 CDs)
Full album stream on YouTube

The Shed Sessions is a compilation of the early music of the Zimbabwean jit band The Bhundu Boys. Taking its name from Shed Studios, the recording studio responsible for these recordings, the album brings together the tracks from the group’s first two LPs, Shabini and Tsvimbodzemoto, as well as a bunch of other tracks that were released here and there, or not at all. This is probably the best collection of the Bhundu Boy’s work; after these early years, they attained relatively huge success around the world, especially in the UK, as one of world music’s first megastars – they even supported Madonna at Wembley Stadium. After this success, their music became closer and closer to the UK pop music at the time, getting cheesier (and, yes, worse) in the process. But in their recordings for Shed Studios, they were still full of life, energy and fresh sounds, with their mixing of traditional Zimbabwean mbira (thumb piano) music, Congolese rumba and American rock’n’roll and country making an irresistibly dancey, sunshine-happy music.

Out of the nearly-30 tracks on this compilation, though, there has always been one track that stands out to me. While most of The Shed Sessions have that light, airy tone that makes jit such a feel-good music, the track ‘Manhenga’ is different. To start with, it’s actually a lot closer to mbira music than their usual fare, and to the angrier, more acidic musical form of chimurenga, especially with its very strong 6/8 rhythm (compare it to the track ‘Ndave Kuena’ by Thomas Mapfumo from 1987, which clearly has its roots in, or from the same source as, ‘Manhenga’). But there’s something else. There’s a darkness to it. When I was younger this track legit creeped me out; it’s spooky in a way that is hard to describe…but I’ll try. I think it may have something to do with the fact that it is musically quite close to their other stuff with the lighter vibes, the high-pitched guitars, the interweaving lines, the close harmonies, but the big difference is that it’s in a minor key as opposed to the otherwise consistent major of the rest of their oeuvre. And that slight change of scale turns it all on its head. The guitars that usually sound jangly instead feel paper-thin and fragile, the endless repeating of phrases and riffs that usually sounds so jubilant instead feels claustrophobic. Even Biggie’s shrill whistling adds a creepiness rather than jollity. It’s unlike any other track on this album, and in The Bhundu Boy’s recording career, as far as I’ve heard. It doesn’t freak me out as much as it did, but it makes me feel things that I don’t expect to feel from their music, and that’s surely a sign of a very special piece.