Top of the World

Itís official: we can all relax. Amadou & Mariam have come up trumps on their potentially difficult follow-up to Dimanche ‡ Bamako. Itís a disc that moves their catchy, good-natured sound away from the blues of yore and dispatches it ñ fist and devilís horns aloft ñ into rock territory. Which is hardly surprising ñ as a kid, Amadou Bagayoko grew up in Bamako listening to Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and other heavy-riffing British rockers. Heís said that they never sounded British to him; they sounded African. Welcome To Mali certainly takes African music as its inspiration, mixing traditional rhythms and instruments ñ balafon (xylophone), kora (harp-lute) and njarka fiddle ñ with rock guitars, celestial female choruses and the duoís sweet-and-sour vocals.
Amadou & Mariamís 2005 breakthrough album Dimanche ‡ Bamako was celebrated as much for producer Manu Chaoís sonic trickery as for its unique mix of sweet melodies and funky grooves. On their follow-up, co-producers Marc-Antoine Moreau and Lauren Jais let Amadou & Mariam set the agenda on tracks such as the guitar-heavy ëBozosí and the rollicking title-track, with its furious chords, keyboard wig-outs and heartfelt cries of ëBamako, here we goí. In between the unnecessary cameos by Kínaan and Juan Rozoff are the big horns of ëCompagnon de la Vieí, the pop nugget ëDjamaí and delicate, music-box touches of ëCe Níest Pas Boní. Sound effects are used sparingly but wisely: the single, ëSabalií, produced by Damon Albarn, is a faux-naÔf experiment in echo, bass and electronics that bears repeated listening. But itís only when Amadou & Mariam are rocking out ñ and they do so a lot ñ that they really, truly sound at home.
Jane Cornwel

From the moment this one dropped onto the CD player, it was a huge relief: LaBrassBanda are not one of the umpteen soundalike Gypsy bands, but something much fresher ñ a deeply original Gypsy-funk brass band who play their stylish compositions with intent, great chops and bags of humorous character. Somewhere off the shores of Lake Chiemsee in Upper Bavaria, this five-piece of three horns, drums, bass and vocals have come up with a killer combination of big riffs, Lalo Schifrin-style arrangements and all-out floor fillers. The influences in the horns flit from Tex-Mex mariachi in the sassy opening track, ëBrassbandaí to tuba-driven ska on the excellent ëAutobahní and, elsewhere, elements of New Orleans, 80s pop, the Balkans and local Bavarian polka are all thrown into the mix with equally good judgement. The production is tight and unobtrusive, letting the phenomenal playing shine through while never overdoing the effects, bells and whistles. Forget the Gypsy compilations, the blow-hards and the soundalike orkestars and treat yourself to a pure slice of fuel-injected S¸ddeutsche funk.
Lemez Lovas

The New York Times has described the port city of Buenaventura as ëthe most dangerous place in Colombiaí. Channel 4ís Dispatches recently portrayed it as a steamy, lawless coastal dump where a jungle labyrinth of mangrove swamps, rivers and creeks hides the dodgiest drug traffickers in the Western hemisphere. Perhaps unsurprisingly, itís also home to of some of the earthiest, most ethnically fascinating Latin music on the planet. If you thought Colombian music was basically cumbia in its various forms, this album will come as a revelation, presenting clear strains of the African marimba, 6/8 rhythms and raw ancestral chants. Itís all about grupos and conjuntos: large bands playing as part of their community. Grupo Saboreo do a wonderful brass-powered salsa with clear Cuban elements. Grupo Socavon are a marimba ensemble, with their gaze across the continent to Africa. Grupo Bahia seem to be a bit of both, and their song ëCantarÈí has some of the lushness of South African choral music. Thereís a hint of jazz along the way, a romantic ballad, and of course a cumbia or two. Itís very varied but, in a way, itís all beach music, constructed around rhythms designed for letting your body go and your good spirits out to play. Some of the genres are entirely new to me. Ever heard of ëChoco-Colombian folk/Netherlands Antilles fusioní? Well, thatís how this compilation winds up, and all Iíll say is itís no end-of-the-party winding-down piece. Rather, PacÌfico Colombiano sounds like the promise of a whole new Latin music fiesta.
Chris Moss

Tango is in some ways as much European as it is Argentinian. For one thing, many of the Argentinians who played and danced it in the years of its genesis were born in the old country. Hereís an album that resurrects the sound of Romanian tango as played in the cafÈs and parks, restaurants and clubs of Bucharest ñ the onetime ësleazy Paris of the Eastí as the liner notes proclaim ñ during the 1930s. Oana Cătălina Chiţu (pronounced Kitsu) and her seven-piece band combine the lost tango songs of that era with the folk ballads of Maria Tănase (the Romanian Piaf, who died in 1963). Thereís no bandoneÛn (squeezebox); instead there is an accordion, a cimbalom, sax and a clarinet, as well as the more usual guitar, bass, percussion and violin. The songs are gloomy and melodramatic, but they are built on strident rhythms, and most have a winning danceability. Chiţuís voice is somewhere between Marlene Dietrich and Edith Piaf, and very unlike anything youíre likely to have heard before on a tango album. The folk numbers are faster, demanding more manic steps than even the most gifted tango dancer could manage.
Chiţu grew up in rural Romania, singing in the church choir as a child, and learning the guitar in her early years. She is more at home in her own folk vernacular, and you get the feeling the skilled musicians are happier performing their own stuff too. The goal of this album is clear: to reclaim tango as a suppressed form and so recall a rich, cultured, cosmopolitan Bucharest. The timing is perfect, as Bucharest sloughs off its dark cape to become a fun city once again.
Chris Moss

After Upmixing, the remix album that turned tracks from 2006ís Uprooting into a remarkably effective dub-reggae dance album, comes the fourth studio album proper from one of the great bands in European roots and leftfield dance music. The powerful, rousing vocal harmonies of the Village Bandís trio of female singers and string players ñ Maja, Magdalena and Sylwia ñ are to the fore on the opening track ëWise Kid Songí. Theyíre matched for energy and raw power by the songís relentless riff played out on Wojtek Krzakís violin, twisting half way through with dubby effects pedals that spiral the song into the realm of the spirits.
The a capella vocal drones of ëIs Anybody in There?í are the bandís call-and-response take on pan-African music, while the jittery, muddy, plucked and scratched beats of ëSkip Funkí sees the bandís dream of a funk-disco roots music made real. Majaís more glacial vocals are complemented on ëHeartbeatí with the soulful tones of guest singer, the Polish soul artist Natalia Przybysz. Its sparse backing features just Wojtek Krzakís plucked violin, over which the two women weave an intense and effective sound tapestry.
Viola player Tomasz Kukurba from Krakowís klezmer trio Kroke (best known for their work with Nigel Kennedy) guests on the track, ë1.5 hí, whose rigid structure is buoyed by shifting planes of strings and Majaís solo voice. The bandís preoccupation with the mysteries of an ancient, pagan Europe has deep roots in their music, and throughout, Infinity takes WVBís haunting acoustic band sound into abstract territory, with all sorts of unexpected musical details springing forth, like loose frames from a Jan ävankmajer animation.
Tim Cumming

Many would say that a little world fusion goes a long way. But not in the case of nomadic Moroccan musician U- Cef. Back in 2000, he created what now sounds like one of the defining pieces of world fusion with his digital/electronica celebration of Moroccan music, Halalium, shimmering kaleidoscopically with its myriad influences and samples: it drew on Andalusian music, drumíníbass, Charles Mingus, Gnawa riffing, ragga and the haunting Bínet Houriyat chorus. Unsurprisingly, it profoundly influenced the rising generation of Moroccan musicians.
With this second album, his debut on Brusselsí visionary Crammed Discs label, he has produced a different kind of masterpiece ñ a more tranced-out, dance floor friendly set, with less high-concept electronica than its predecessor. Over the last seven years, U-Cef has spent much more time in Morocco, DJing and playing music, and every pore of every track is aglow with those influences. Check the torrents of qanun and nay, the Gnawa inflections in the polyrhythms of ëMoíRockíníRollí or the traditional rhythms of ëHilalí; or the overall trance-like use of repetitive vocal patterns which Moroccanise even the ingeniously used batucada rhythm of ëMarhaBahiaí; or the ragga of ëHamdouíllahí. And finally, consider the risky double whammy that he pulls off so brilliantly: creating not just a new version of world fusion but adding a sprinkling of collaborations with guest star luminaries like Damon Albarn, Rachid Taha and Justin Adams, without diluting the force of the album. In fact, all of his guests rise to the challenge and exceed expectations. A dazzling tour de force.
Max Reinhardt

In reggae circles there can be few more legendary characters than Lee ëScratchí Perry. A natural entertainer, Perry has always had two careers ñ one as recording artist, the other as production guru. Talented, certainly, but Perry has an erratic character that has seen his live performances ñ where he appears in trademark jewel-encrusted cap ñ and studio recordings fluctuate in quality. Happily, any lingering doubts are quickly dispersed on The Mighty Upsetter. Here heís back to his sparkling best ñ not bad for a septuagarian. The album sees Perry reunited with British producer Adrian Sherwood, who was behind some of his more successful late 1980s and early 90s albums. Sherwood seems to get the very best out of Perry ñ disciplining him enough to produce a coherent sound, yet allowing him just the right amount of quirkiness to make this an exemplary body of work.
Sherwoodís clean production doesnít content itself at rehashing reggae standards ñ thereís a genuine desire to push the boundaries of the genre. This can be heard on the opening Indian-inspired ëExercisingí featuring Perryís spooky, gruff vocals. ëInternational Broadcasterí is similarly innovative, commencing with a high-pitched ëBooooí from Perry and proceeding with a bouncy hip-hop beat completed with DJ Moodie scratches and a rap cameo from Londonís Roots Manuva. Other stand-outs include the rootsy ëKilimanjaroí and effortlessly cool ëYellow Tongueí, featuring the beautiful vocals of Tunisian-French singer Samia Farah. But the most memorable track has to be ëPolitical Confusioní in which Perry derides Bush and Blair, speak-sings of ëWeapons of Mass Deceptioní and bigs up Hugo Ch·vez, Hamas and Hezbollah. A truly memorable album ñ and the best thing to happen to reggae in a while.
Ed Stocker

Spainís XosÈ Manuel BudiÒo is always a musician to watch out for, continually pushing the envelope of his native Galician music further, often in more than one direction at once. Home shows his experimental journey continuing with top musicians as invited guests. The accordion of Basque trikitixa maestro Kepa Junkera opens the rumbustious ëOllin Kaní while the jazz saxophone of Jorge Pardo (key member of Paco de LucÌaís pioneering flamenco group) is there for ëOllos de Salí. And, naturally, the album features his close friend, the cutting-edge Galician singer and piper Mercedes PeÛn, who duets with herself to quite wondrous effect on the beautiful ëInmaterialí. BudiÒo loves to play around in his own recording studio and on his Mac laptop with found sounds and samples. This works blissfully with the ancient voices (from ëAires de Terraí) sampled for the mesmerising ëSempre Alal·í. The way his pipes take up the haunting vocal melody makes the piece totally thrilling. Other times this work takes more getting used to, as with the introduction to ëPedra de Abalarí, which then develops brilliantly with gorgeous violin from Jacky Molard and piano from Paulo Borges.
Hints of various Cuban riffs for the mysterious ëVia Sacra 3í with its marimba and techno touches create a tantalising effect. Straight-up stuff such as ëOrtegalí, with its dense banks of voices, and the closing solo, ëImos Djí, are terrific stuff, as is the fluid and filmic ëNacÌn Na Espumaí. There are always touches of genius in any BudiÒo disc, but Home is full of them.
Jan Fairley

WOMADís conversation piece this year occurred at the 11th hour, when Jah Wobbleí s dazzling, circus-like Chinese Dub Orchestra left us spellbound. As the musicians packed up a guzheng zither, Jewís harp, electric guitar, classical flute and Chinese percussion, Wobble unplugged the bass which had subtly driven the performance.
Wobble is one of world musicís most intelligently eclectic mavericks. He swapped the Invaders of the Heart for this project, but never abandons his passion for dub-reggae. His basslines ñ melodic, stomping and dub-echoey ñ accompany music more Chinese than dub but even on ëL1 Dubí and ëLií, where the boat is pushed closest to Jamaica, Zi Lan Liaoís tangy guzheng-picking complements the electric guitarís stark 1960s twang. The two singers with Mongolian and Tibetan backgrounds bring vocal riches without any off-putting shrillness. ëWalking the Horseí and ëHorse Mountain Songí are sung by Gu Ying Ji, evoking the Mongolian plains, and Wang Jingquís richer voice, on ëHappy Tibetan Girlí is a rivalling high point. In ëYellow Mountainí (and its dub version), Clive Bellís classical flute paints Chinese landscapes as Wobble and Zi maintain a fugue-like dance around the zitherís ice-crisp melodies. Has the wandering bass player found his home?
Sue Steward

The voice of Sasha (Shashwati Mandal Paul) positively sparkles while introducing us to this high-energy (now almost extinct) song form called tappa, a semi-classical style inspired by the folk music of the camel drivers of Punjab and Sindh, who travelled along a section of the old silk route that led to Afghanistan. This recording came about as a result of Sense producer, Derek Roberts, feeling an immediate affinity with the genre and wanting to enhance it by adding a string section for rhythm, as well as melodic and harmonic embellishment. The result is absolutely mind-blowing ñ the additional music bringing a dramatic edge to the exotic terrain of these songs.
Tappa ñ as we hear it today ñ is said to be the invention of Ghulam Nabi Shorie (nicknamed ëShori-miyaí) of Lucknow district. He had trained in khayal (classical vocal) but, in the folk songs of the camel drivers (whose trembling, high-pitched voices were made shakier by being camel-bound for the best part of the day), he found a greater potential for rhythmic intricacy. The ragas employed in tappa tend to be of the lighter, more romantic variety. Track four, ëMhaara Jiyaraí is particularly catchy and one where the string section sounds absolutely exquisite. The lyrics ñ sung in all the languages along that stretch of the silk route ñ are drawn from the tragic tales of legendary lovers separated by vast distances across treacherous landscapes, providing a convenient allegory for humankindís spiritual quest. Itís extremely rare to come across an album that makes a total impact on the senses: not just musically and technically, but by conjuring up evocative images of travelling musicians carrying an enormous cultural treasure across the sand dunes.
Jameela Siddiqi