Showing posts with label Gambia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gambia. Show all posts

Friday, 2 August 2019

214: In Trance, by JuJu

JuJu (United Kingdom/Gambia)
In Trance (2011)
7 tracks, 69 minutes
BandcampSpotifyiTunes

Juldeh’s nyanyero was the first one-string fiddle I’d (consciously) heard, and it sounded crazy to me. I thought it was a flute at first, and sometimes it sounds like a natural trumpet, sometimes it sounds like a fiddle in the American or Irish traditions. But its sound is literally just horsehair on horsehair, one set stretched over a goat-skin covered calabash, the other into a bow. Yet out of that fairly simple instrument (there is only one string, after all), you get all these sounds, and a surprising range too. He uses his nyanyero as a solo instrument, and also to accompany his vocals in the traditional style of the Fula gawlo (griot).

And then you’ve got Justin Adams on electric guitar. Justin has been a staple on the world music scene for decades. He’s played with and produced everyone from Jah Wobble’s Invaders of the Heart, Natacha Atlas and Sinéad O’Connor to Tinariwen, Lo’Jo, Canzoniere Grecanico Salentino and even the Emirati band Takht al Emarat. His own style is one of electric blues spiced up with sounds from across north-west Africa, such as the musics of the Tuareg, Songhai, Berber, Gnawa and Arab people.

Get these two musicians together and the music they make is immense. Their playing slots so well together: Juldeh bends his slightly more into the bluesy frame, Justin crafts his whole thing around Juldeh’s own tradition. The end result is something that is a rocking mid-point between the two, but with neither musician being overly precious about changing and evolving their own sound, either. Together, the duo had already had a couple of albums: their first, 2007’s Soul Science, was very organic and rootsy, an artefact of the musicians’ first meetings with all the excitement that comes along with it; the follow-up, 2009’s Tell No Lies, was a much more polished record that even strikes me as a little poppy in places and showed a progression in their collaborative songwriting. For In Trance, they took it to a different place.

In Trance is harder and heavier than their first two albums, and that’s also reflected by them taking on the name JuJu – signifying their new-found bandification alongside drummer Dave Smith (later of Fofoulah), percussionist Martyn Barker and bassist Billy Fuller. But as the name also implies, there is more a focus on trance for this album. Unlike the previous two, the pieces included here aren’t a neat four minutes – three even stretch out near the 15 minute mark. Instead, the tracks are much more open-ended, the music based on endless loops over which mutual improvisation takes centre stage. The pieces evolve in their performance in a way a little reminiscent of jazz fusion, although there is little jazz in the music itself, save maybe for a few rhythmic conceptions. At its core it is still really – totally – bluesy, and Juldeh’s Fula sound permeates it all in the best way.

The track ‘Deep Sahara’ is probably my favourite of this set of great tracks, and it really shows how the album works so well. It’s actually based on the track ‘Sahara’ from Tell No Lies, but its treatment here turns it into something from another realm. Starting with an Arabic taqsim-like opening where Justin and Juldeh take turns exploring the scales and flexing their muscles in anticipation of what’s to come, the song itself starts after about two minutes. It’s rocky with a slightly loping, Moroccan-like rhythm and, of course, as much blues as you could hope for. But then the ‘song’ portion only lasts for another two minutes. After that, it’s all groove. Juldeh takes extended solos on his nyanyero, occasionally sings around and in-between the melody left implied by the song, which comes around every so often but with no regularity. Throughout, Justin’s guitar, mostly playing rhythm, is slowly getting more and more distorted and psychedelic…and then towards the end, so slowly as you won’t even notice it until it’s on top of you, there’s no vocals, or guitar, or nyanyero, it’s just all drums: drum kit, bendir, tama, bringing the track to a banging end at almost 15 mnutes. What a great way to end a piece. It’s all appropriately hypnotic, and although its structure is unusual, nothing at all sounds out-of-place. And that’s the case for this whole album.

In Trance turned out to be the only album that they’d release as JuJu – not too long after it came out, the band were snapped up wholesale by Robert Plant to become his Sensational Space Shifters. The band’s original set-up was literally JuJu but with Plant on vocals and occasional harmonica – not a bad mix to be honest. And that’s the way the band continued: they toured around the world, released an album, members came and went. Juldeh eventually moved back to Gambia in 2017 and was replaced by English folk fiddler Seth Lakeman, taking with him most of the last remnants of the JuJu sound.

Sunday, 28 April 2019

118: Fofoulah, by Fofoulah

Fofoulah (United Kingdom/Senegal/Gambia)
Fofoulah (2014)
9 tracks, 40 minutes
BandcampSpotifyiTunes

As the brainchild of a jazz drummer with an intense interest in West African drumming, it’s no wonder that Fofoulah’s sound is so rhythmically intense. The group was formed by Dave Smith, who’s currently best known as the drummer for Robert Plant after the Led Zep man absorbed the brilliant Afro-blues trance group JuJu into his own Sensational Space Shifters. Smith became a major force in the UK jazz scene before becoming obsessed with the Senegambian sabar drums and their amazingly complex rhythms.

So that’s where Fofoulah’s music starts. The drums are all-important, and between Smith on drum kit and Gambian percussionist Kaw Secka on the tama talking drum – and both with the sabar – they create whole soundworlds just out of skin, stick and finger. The polyrhythms shift constantly throughout, a brilliant mix of traditional West African styles and jazz, and with other incursions from dub and hip-hop. That basis informs the rest too, which layers up Wolof songs with astro-jazz solos, synthscapes and highlife-informed guitars.

There’s also great contributions here from Tom Challenger, a great sax player who straddles jazz and classical worlds (and occasionally looks disconcertingly like an older version of me) and Batch Gueye, a Wolof griot who’s become an important part of the UK African music scene, as well as guest musicians Juldeh Camara, Iness Mezel and Ghostpoet.

Fofoulah was the group’s first album and they absolutely burst onto the scene with it – it sounds much more accomplished and assured than a debut would lead you to believe, and I do think a big part of that is Smith’s rhythmic wizardry. They’ve not long come out with a second album, Daega Rek, which I’ve not managed to listen to yet, but I’m interested to find out how four years of touring and maturing have changed their sound.