Top of the World

If you like rap, Nuyorican salsa, hip-hop or funk, youíll enjoy Follow Me. If you like them all, youíll love it. Because the Yerba Buena approach to tropical music is to throw all the genres together ñ often in a frantic, intoxicating danceable brew ñ and see what happens. Just when you think a rhythm is heading for an easy refrain, or when a slow song is wavering on the edge of the slush pool of lazy emotion, the massed army of brilliant musicians turn a right angle and take things elsewhere.
As on their previous albums, President Alien and Island Life, bilingualism is at the heart of Follow Me. Vocalists rap in Spanish, get ever so Latino in English, and on ëBla, Bla, Blaí join in huge choruses that combine spliced scratches of GW Bush with big-band blasts. Not since David Byrneís Rei Momo has such a lively dialogue between the US and the Caribbean been given this kind of soundtrack. On the fourth song, which features veteran funkster Joe Bataan, the message is unfettered: ëAll I want is a bilingual girlÖ two tongues are better than oneí. But the musical conversation between new urban beats and long fermented Latin American tunes is the main one ñ the albumís journey from cumbia through ska to contemporary club-oriented beats is thrilling and rich in surprises. Guests come in all shapes and sizes, with Orishas, Celia Cruz, Gogol Bordello, John Leguizamo and Diego ëEl Cigalaí popping in to add their two pesosí worth.
Chris Moss

With this collection of Sephardic songs, Valencia-based group LíHam du Focís side project Aman Aman come into their own. Aman Aman takes its name from an eastern Mediterranean expression meaning lovesickness, though it has different meanings stemming from the notion of surprise. The album is a vivid selection of exuberant songs from Turkey, Greece, Bulgaria and Morocco, dear to the hearts of a generation born around the end of the 19th century in Salonika, Istanbul and Izmir. What sets EfrÈn LÛpez and Mara Arandaís disc apart is their dynamic and exuberant approach to these 15 traditional songs. Itís as if they had opened a dusty box, found precious jewels inside and brought them out into the daylight.
Aranda has a voice as strikingly beautiful as she is herself, and her partner LÛpez on ud, tambur, santur, lavta and cumbus leads a wonderful band playing a host of strings, wind and percussion. The music evolves from simple, introductory statements of mode, melody and theme, weaving a complex tapestry alive with gleaming textures and sumptuous decorative detail. The songsí subject matter moves from love to weddings to biblical stories to lullabies. Thereís much fun to be had in the lyrics: the vivid ëLos Guisandas de la Berenjenaí, for instance, describes seven different ways of preparing aubergine, and features a chorus dedicated ëTo my uncle Cerasi, who enjoys drinking wineí. Beautifully produced, the superb liner notes are in four languages.
Jan Fairley

Until now, the revival of sevdalinka (Bosnian love song), has been largely thanks to the seductive music of Mostar Sevdah Reunion ñ forged out of the war that tore the multicultural country apart in the 90s. And itís a credit to what theyíve achieved that this innovative collection, featuring musicians from former Yugoslavia, Bulgaria, Turkey, Germany, the US and Japan, has happened at all. Many might be surprised that this CD opens with Turkish club musician Mercan Dede (pictured right), but sevdalinka gets its name from the Turkish word sevda (meaning ëloveí or ëpassioní) and this track is one of Dedeís most accomplished with quirky clarinet, haunting ney flute, robust percussion and the Bosnian vocals of Zerina Cokoja. Another song, ëMostarski Ducanií, is a sevdah classic that featured on the debut disc of Mostar Sevdah Reunion, but here itís in an unusual arrangement for four bass guitars.
The many fine musicians here include the wonderful Turkish accordionist and singer Muammer Ketenco?lu and the veteran sevdah singer Emina Ze?aj in a traditional performance with Turkish saz. But the most sublime track is surely ëSto te Nemaí by Sarajevo-born Jadranka Stojakovi?, who sang the official song of the Winter Olympics in 1984 before migrating to Japan where she recently recorded this with local musicians. This project, initiated by the Sarajevo label Yaman, is not backward looking, but about taking whatís valuable from an old ñ and in this case threatened ñ tradition and making viable and beautiful new music out of it. Itís also a demonstration of how great music has always been a product of cultural interchange. A Piranha triumph.
Simon Broughton

Independence from French colonial rule for Guinea in 1958 allowed the cream of the nationís musicians the comparative luxury of having state funding to record for the national record label Syliphone. The instructions from president SÈkou TourÈ required a musical direction that reflected the optimism of West Africaís newly de-shackled nations, whilst retaining the essence of Guinean musical tradition. AuthenticitÈ contains examples of groups from the different regions of Guinea (Orchestres FÈdÈreaux) and the better known Orchestres Nationales. The first disc covers the period 1965-72 and mostly consists of tracks that are gentle shuffles and rumbas with traditional Mande influences or Latin rhythms typical of the period. Horn sections solo with jazz phrasing that is a hangover from colonial times, whilst rhythm sections bubble away delightfully in the background. The second CD takes up the Syliphone story from 1972 to 1983 and shows how Guinean music progressed with the added sophistication of Western guitar effects, charmingly cheesy keyboards, and exposure to rock, soul and psychedelic music. Despite the Guinean governmentís drive for an ëauthenticí, anti-colonial, national music style the external influences were strong and were fundamental in making Guinean music of the period one of the most appealing cocktails in modern African music. The lyrics may reflect an indigenous Guinean post-colonial cultural identity but musically this is a spectacular fusion of African, Latin and Western popular musical styles.
In addition to exemplary performances by well known groups such as Bembeya, the Horoya Band, Keletigui, and Balla et ses Balladins, this collection contains some of the less famous Guinean groups and many of the tracks have never been available on CD before. Particularly notable are the neo-psychedelic extemporisations of 22 Novembre Band, Sombory Jazz, Palm Jazz, Syli Authentic, Nimba Jazz, and the explosive guitar interplay of the Tropical Djoli Band. The Syliphone label is one of the worldís most iconic record labels and the Sternís reissue series is a magnificent and authoritative way to enjoy the treasures of one of Africaís greatest musical nations.
Martin Sinnock

Among the musical traditions of Barcelona, Catalan rumba is the cityís very own Latino-Gypsy jewel, and it is in a perpetual state of resurgence. Compilations of masterworks from the 1950s to the 70s crop up regularly and dozens of young mestizo bands pay at the very least lip service to their influence. A loose fraternity centred around Sicus Carbonell and Rafaelito Salazar of the group Sabor de Gracia, and non-Gypsy sympathisers such as Joan Garriga, leader of the now defunct good-time combo Dusminguet, struggle to keep the rumba flame alight. Yet even Dusminguet were not immune to the seemingly irresistible lure of mestizaje ñ fusion. Colombian cumbia was a particular and enjoyable penchant of theirs, but at their guitar-strumming, palma-clapping, high-voiced best they delivered high-octane rumba spirit. Garrigaís latest group, La Troba Kung-F?, display the same strengths, notably their leaderís wild voice and accordion, and if pure rumba is thin on the grooves of their CD, they still rollick like thereís no maÒana.
Garriga also guests on the first album from Patriarcas de la Rumba. The group is an excellent idea: Tios Pali, Toni, Pepe ëEl Chinoí, Joanet and Rafael, uncle of Rafaelito Salazar are all solid bit players from the golden era. Itís also ethno-musically interesting, with rarely heard forms in their repertoire, such as the garrotÌn for example. Theyíre pretty perky in places. But overall, however, the rather laid-back jazzy Cuban twist to the arrangements and the charmingly aged voices are a touch too avuncular to provide the visceral excitement that the hardcore rumba junkie craves.
The revelation of the three is the new offering from Peret, the king of 60s pop-rumba, whose recent records have been patchy. Que Levante El Dedo is a triumphant return. Peretís voice is mature but not over the hill. The instrumentation ñ a close mesh of ventilador guitar, palmas, touches of electric lead guitar, bass and drums ñ is simple and strong. And the tunes ñ Peretís speciality since his days selling cartloads of pop-up cover EPs on the Costa Brava ñ are as catchy as ever. Real rumbas abound, on themes as diverse as dieting, grandchildren and Cuban studs. Thereís a plaintive Gypsy guajira and an unusual moritas, a sober melodic piece of flamenco a million miles from the anguished caterwauling that is nowadays de rigeur. Thereís even a terrific ëfunkyí with wah-wah guitar, organ, honking baritone sax and echo. Delicious. In the Buena Vista rumba stakes, Peret is the patriarch to put your money on.
Philip Sweeney

Budowitz are surely the best band playing old-time Jewish instrumental music from Eastern Europe around right now. The group is led by American accordion and tsimbl (cimbalom) player Joshua Horowitz and the other players come from the US, Hungary and Germany ñ among them is the brilliant clarinettist Christian Dawid. This is the third Budowitz CD since 1997, but the band arenít as well known as they deserve to be. Still, theyíre well known enough to have had these fantastic live concerts recorded by Swiss Radio in Zurich and Geneva. The playing is confident, powerful and rhythmically alive, while there are also sublime moments of delicacy and reflection ñ the gorgeous tsimbl solo of ëVoliner Khtsosí and accordion solo of ëShiyas Doinaí, for instance.
But what really makes the disc remarkable is the repertoire, which is grouped according to ten of the gubernias, or administrative districts, where klezmer music was found in Eastern Europe. These include Galitsiye, Vitebk, Kiev and Transylvania in todayís Poland, and Belarus, Ukraine and Romania. Each district is represented by a short suite of pieces ñ gathered from written sources, old recordings and the oral tradition ñ which are joined together and played as they might be in a wedding sequence. Itís a repertoire that will be unfamiliar even to those with an extensive knowledge of klezmer music. Before World War II, Jews, Gypsies and local folk musicians often played together, and there are many connections between the Jewish and regional folk styles. In Nizhni Veretski, the town where the father of Cookie Segelstein, one of the violinists, lived, the klezmer band was made up of Gypsy, Ruthenian, Jewish and Hungarian musicians. And in the Transylvanian section of this disc, the music, played by Hungarian musicians, is pure Kalotaszeg style ñ not particularly Jewish but much loved by the Szatmar Rebbe, according to Joshua Horowitz. Amongst the highlights are the three tunes from Volakhay (Wallachia), the region of the Taraf de HaÔdouks, with some extraordinarily intense fiddle playing. Throughout the disc the music is raw and gutsy ñ played with great artistry and a sense of fun.
Simon Broughton

In a Songlines interview from almost two years ago, Salif Keita enthused about the studio he had built in Bamako where he could mentor and record young Malian musicians, and he singled out two ñ Adama Coulibaly and Ibrahim Nabo. Some 18 months after their names first appeared in the pages of this magazine, we finally get to hear their albums as part of a Salif Keita PresentsÖ series on his own Wanda label, distributed via Universal Jazz. In #33, Keita explained that the intention of his label was to record and encourage the preservation of the regional variations of Malian music and the first trio of releases handsomely live up to that mission statement. Coulibaly, who accompanied Keita on his 2005 album MíBemba, hails from Wassoulou in the south of Mali. He is steeped in the traditions of the regionís donsoton (hunters) and their music, played on the rustic harp-like instruments the donsogoni and its close relative, the kamalengoni. A pupil of Sibiri SamakÈ, perhaps the best known of the Wassoulou hunter-singers, Coulibaly has a voice thatís a sinuously virtuosic instrument, although with rougher edges than Keitaís, whose guest vocals grace the opening track. Heís also a skilled player of the donsogoni and uses the instrument to create a hypnotic, almost trance-like sound that in places has strong similarities with Moroccan Gnawa. This is traditional, non-urban African music in an almost totally uncompromised form, more or less as you might hear it played by hunters in a Wassoulou village.
Ibrahim Nabo is a Songhai from the north of Mali and makes a fuller, somewhat more modern sound with the addition in places of electric bass and guitar but which is still steeped in traditional rhythms. Particularly notable is the thrilling call-and-response contrast between his own gritty vocals and the sweeter tones of his female backing singers. In his 60s, Sina Sinayoko is by far the oldest of the three and also plays music associated with Maliís huntersí societies. Singing in a deeply resonant, folk-rich voice, which will probably have someone calling him ëthe African Johnny Cashí, his take is quite different from Coulibalyís more unmediated sound and is accompanied by the gentler tones of the simbi, a MalinkÈ version of the hunterís harp. My personal favourite is Coulibalyís album, but all three can be recommended without reservation.
Nigel Williamson

ëEnjoy It!í shouts the title. And itís impossible not to enjoy these brash, brassy boogaloos and dance. Recorded in Peru between 1965 and 1969 by the MAG labelís eponymous producer, Manual A Guerrero Silvestre, they stick close to the New York models perfected by the likes of Johnny Pacheco, Joe Cuba and Johnny Rodriguez, and are high-speed, 60s crossovers of trumpet-led mambos and raunchy soul. Boogaloos spread like wildfire around Latin America, and their musical versatility guaranteed their survival into todayís clubs. These examples roam into every corner of the boogaloo/salsa style, with jazz piano solos and jovial scatting on Melocochita y Karamandukaís ëBooga Jazzí. Influence from Joe Cubaís sextet is rightly dominant in the shimmering vibes, pumped-up whistles, sharp handclaps and party-time choruses of Linaresís ëEl Pitoí and in the catchy Spanglish choruses of Tito Chicomaís ëClap Your Handsí. Pachecoís flute-led arrangements form the basis of Lucho Macedoís ëCaramelosí (even better than Pachecoís hit for Celia), and Chicomaís re-arrangement of the Tito Puente classic ëFat Mamaí. The Peruvians replaced salsaís traditional cuatro and tres guitars with electric models: theyíre responsible for Silvestre Montezís wonderfully twangy solos and Macedoís Guayabaís screaming Santana-style effects. A fabulous collection ñ and a real revelation.
Sue Steward

Esma Redûepova is a powerhouse of Gypsy music. Born in Skopje, Macedonia, she first started singing on the radio in 1956 and, quite apart from being nominated several times for the Nobel Peace Prize, has been acclaimed as an international ambassador for Roma music and has performed the world over. She and her late husband Stevo Teodosievski, have adopted 47 orphaned children over the years, and given them a musical education. Several of them are in her band, including her accordionist, composer and arranger Simeon Atanasov.
Redûepovaís signature song is ëDzelem Dzelemí, which was adopted as the anthem of the Roma people in 1971, and by far the best recording of it was made for Networkís Gypsy Queens recording in 1999. Her distinctively gritty voice makes your hair stand on end. By comparison, Gypsy Carpet, the new Network recording, is a little disappointing. There are good songs here, with spectacular playing from her clarinettist Zahir Ramadanov, but they emphasise the over-the-top cabaret element often present in Redûepovaís performances. The band, featuring clarinet, trumpet and accordion, is tight and punchy, driven by lively percussion. Itís probably much closer to her regular performing style with an electronic keyboard on some of the tracks.
My Story is a collaboration with French guitarist and lover of Gypsy music Titi Robin. With Robin playing acoustic guitar and bouzouki, and an absence of keyboard, it gives a more transparent texture to the music. The disc features a collection of songs in Romany and Macedonian that ranges across her career, plus four instrumental tracks. According to the liner notes, she wrote the autobiographical song ëMy Storyí when she was 11, which makes Wayne Rooneyís autobiography seem rather overdue. Redûepovaís speciality is dramatic ballad-like laments, which benefit from the rough edge in her voice, and thereís a good selection here, most notably ëHajiri Ma te Dikeí (Damn you Mother), a song she wrote concerning her aunt, who was sold off at an early age. She usually performs it with a black veil over her head and throws in bitter sobs for good measure. Thereís also a new version of ëDjelem, Djelemí with Robin on guitar, which becomes unusually jaunty in the middle, but doesnít equal the old Network version. My advice is to get My Story, but also to invest in Networkís double album of Gypsy Queens.
Simon Broughton

This August marks the tenth anniversary of the death of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Posthumous releases, thus far, have featured the usual scrapings from the barrel ñ outtakes and rejected tracks from album projects. Which makes this three-CD album absolutely exceptional and a must for qawwali (South Asian Sufi music) fans. This is Nusrat performing in Birmingham in 1993 and his performance is nothing short of outstanding. Technically speaking itís not the best of recordings ñ there are no sleeve notes ñ but the musical content more than compensates. Each and every number in this set is a gold nugget, including all those great old favourites, many performed in response to audience requests. There was an ecstatic atmosphere in Birmingham that night and at one point Nusrat has to scold members of the audience and order them to return to their seats as they (presumably) surged towards the stage.
Apart from old favourites such as ëAllah Hooí (Nusrat always began with this number) and ëAli da Malangí, there are two songs I hadnít heard before: ëMere Man ka Rajaí (King of my Heart) is a song in praise of the Sufi saint Baba Farid; and ëThori der Hor Thehr Jaí is a terrific Punjabi song in which Nusrat plays the lover imploring his beloved to stay a while longer because his eyes havenít, as yet, had their fill. Itís beautifully innocent, yet simultaneously wise and seductive. By the time we get to the finale, performers and audience alike seem to have surged to the giddiest high, with a couple of the chorus voices (or is it someone from the audience?) going quite audibly out of tune. Even so, I defy anyone to keep still through ëDam Mast Qalandarí. All in all, this is a most uplifting and timely reminder of the king of qawwali at his zenith.
Jameela Siddiqi