Niger’s finest are just as exciting as they were on their two previous albums, with a bit more assurance and studio polish. Cramming in more triplets than a Migos mixtape, four drummers hardly seem like enough; it’s a wonder they don’t literally burn through them, Spinal Tap-style. The singers are the principal source of variety (even the guy who shouts “Zama” again and again) and collectively do a pretty good job at stamping their individuality over the blazing, shifting rhythms. Guitarist Almeida is the ringmaster, constructing circular riffs that the band could play around ad infinitum if they were on what all the Afrobeat guys are on, only here the groove’s orbit will often shift to a different center with no loss of momentum, like the band’s solved the three-body problem. Enjoy their stable era while it lasts.
Grade: A (“Entente”, “Trankil”, “Belles Reines”)
Youssou N’Dour & le Super Etoile de Dakar: Fatteliku: Live in Athens 1987 (2013)
Raxas Bercy showcases post-apostrophe Ndour as Africa’s greatest superstar (the case becomes a slam dunk when you can see it); this has him as Africa’s hottest young singer, whose astonishing voice is still so lacking in international cachet that he’s supporting Peter Gabriel (who in fairness was absurdly popular in 1987.) “Nelson Mandela” is a blatant attempt to rectify this, but it’s hard to complain about his political commitment even if shouting out Zimbabwe isn’t as unifying today as it was 30 years ago. But otherwise concessions to Western (slash Near Eastern) ears don’t go much beyond calling for handclaps in English. The band mostly plays straight sax-and-guitars mbalax, with a rhythm section in such disciplined form that Habib Faye, early in his tenure as Ndour’s shot-caller that only ended with his death this April, can afford a turn on the keys from time to time. As a bonus, Gabriel and Ndour team up for an “In Your Eyes,” which is worth hearing up to twice.
Grade: A MINUS (“Immigrés”, “Kocc Barma”, “Ndobine”)
Elza Soares: Deus é Mulher
The Woman at the End of the World, though terrific, was perhaps too committed to fatalism to build any real tension. The mood here is similarly ominous, with God Herself pissed that we misgendered her for so long. But this time She offers roads to apocalypse that are humbling rather than humiliating: 2–1 losses rather than 7–1. The compositions are a little more varied, the instrumentation quite a lot more heroic, and Soares is willing to grunt and yowl to put over, say, Kiko Dinucci and Clima giving us a moment to scream, beautifully, with the world. Hyenas may rip out our hearts while we do so, but at least we’re communicating.
Grade: A MINUS (“Hienas Na TV”, “Banho”, “O Que Se Cala”)
American Edit
I struggled with the American Epic box set for three discs, in which the average quality of the ones on the Harry Smiths blew away the average quality of the ones that weren’t. Then the Midwest disc hit and I was OMG OMG HIT AFTER HIT AND I FINALLY GIVE A SHIT ABOUT GEESHIE WILEY before the final disc provided a tolerable falling off. Still, let’s cheat a little and combine disc four with the uniformly strong (if short on surprise) American Epic: The Best of Blues subset. That sums to over two hours of all killer, in sequence or on shuffle, that hints at the breadth of the full epic. Now somebody get the documentary down to an hour and a half and send me a VHS.
Grade: A MINUS (Henry Thomas, “Bull Doze Blues”; Cannon’s Jug Stompers, “Walk Right In”; Geeshie Wiley, “Last Kind Words Blues”)
I’m Not Here to Hunt Rabbits
Botswanan guitarists with weird tunings and sometimes weirder fingering: video of leadoff artist Solly Sebotso shows him playing his acoustic like a slide guitar, except without a slide and without sliding so uh not really. It’s pointless to deny oneself the visual pleasure of fingers flying around necks in dexterous and unexpected ways, so much of the material here is best consumed on Bokete7’s YouTube channel. However, most of this still succeeds as music, at least when the keyboards are kept hidden. Most enthusiastic in show is Sebongile Kgaila: he makes you believe that although he’s happier as a relatively conventional four-stringer than as a rabbit hunter, he was probably pretty good at the latter.
Grade: B PLUS (“Tika Molamu (Knobkerrie Throw)”, “Rampoka”, “Gladys”)
ODDS & ENDS
Anelis Assumpção: Taurina
Polyhedral songs about baking and other feminist metaphors delivered with consummate smoothness — perhaps too much, but it’s better to err on the side of food safety (“Mortal à Toa”, “Moela”, “Chá de Jasmim”)
Camarão: The Imaginary Soundtrack to a Brazilian Western Movie 1964–1974
Lively accordions-&-oompah, each cut having the two-and-a-bit minute precision of a 45 side, and you’re doing better than me if you can tell the A’s and B’s apart (“A Cigana Ihe Enganao”, “Sereia Do Mar”, “Os Camarões”)
Betsayda Machado & Parranda el Clavo: Loe Loa: Rural Recordings Under the Mango Tree
Professional big loud Afro-Venezuelan voice sings big and loud while her less professional cheerleaders drum on anything they can find in excellent sound quality (“Oh, Santa Rosa”, “Sentimiento”)
Eliza Carthy & the Wayward Band: Big Machine
Britfolk who are best at what you’d think they’d be best at — minor keys, fast fiddlin’, generally letting Carthy run the show — and not so best when they let anyone else sing, let alone rap (“Devil in the Woman”, “The Fitter’s Song”)
Marcel Khalife: Andalusia of Love
Thoughtfully beautiful album that those whose taste in Andalusian-themed culture tends toward sharing tapas and a nice sherry instead of or in addition to slicing up eyeballs should find useful (“Nahla”, “Ouhibouki”)
