320 kbps | 127 MB | LINKS
Goths is the upcoming sixteenth studio album by the Mountain Goats, to be released on May 19, 2017, on Merge Records. Bassist Peter Hughes described the album’s theme as goth, covering the bands that “never made it out of Fender’s Ballroom, the Gene Loves Jezebels of the world—the ones whose gothic paths were overtaken by the realities of life, or of its opposite.” It is the first album by the Mountain Goats to not feature any guitars (excluding Bass Guitar).
(Songs mixed and mastered by Kang Joseph Lamont)
Location: Motong Geding, East Sumba
Sound: Jungga as played by Haingu (pronounced with a silent "u", real name Yohanes Terpanjang)
Note: This is the third post in the Sumba Strings series. To learn more about the kind of music Haingu is playing, check out Sumba Strings, Pt. 1.
Haingu’s voice was breaking, and his jungga was sliding more and more out of tune with every pluck. We were sitting crosslegged on the rough floorboards of his front porch, an empty container of betel nut pushed politely to our feet. Haingu had greeted us as soon as we pulled up to his house on motorbike, a pencil-thin mustache hugging his gap-toothed smile. He was clearly used to random folks showing up, wanting to hear his songs - he’d been up late into the night, singing for other visitors. That was the problem, he said: his voice was shot.
There was a solution, he said, a way to warm up his voice. Peci, or distilled rice wine, a potent brew that seemed more likely to shred the vocal cords than make things any better. We’d seen the way Haingu had winced, though, when his voice cracked, shaking his head in disappointment during instrumental breaks. It always works, he insisted.
A family member disappeared inside and came back with a small glass and a bottle full of the stuff. He filled the glass, knocked it back, and re-tuned the jungga, whose tuning pegs were nothing more than sticks wrapped with brake cable threads. Ok, he said, let’s try this again.
He cradled the jungga in his arms, its heart-shaped sound-hole in front of his chest, and began to sing. The sound that emerged was a total transformation: where before there had been strained creaks, there were now smooth tones, as warm as the peci in his belly. Haingu smiled as he hit the high notes, satisfied.
Between songs, we passed around the glass, taking shots. The local guys would knock it back like water, while we bule cringed as the warmth hit our stomachs, croaking out an “Mmm, delicious!” to much laughter from the seasoned peci pros. Tongue loosened, Haingu would look me in the eyes and confess, “Life is hard here. We're struggling people.” He explained that most of his money was made from folks who would come to hear him play, just like us. There was a system that was seemingly known by all folks in this corner of the island: come to Haingu’s house and tell him your woes, and he’ll sing a song to match your situation, handpicking verses full of poetic understanding and advice. A singing, slightly drunk folk therapist. It wasn't always so effective, though: one visitor, after confessing and hearing Haingu's song, was filled even more with sadness. "He hung himself," Haingu said.
Haingu had never recorded in a studio, but everyone in East Sumba knew his name. Back in the nineties and early 2000s, other Sumbanese used to show up with simple tape recorders and record their musical therapy sessions, the tapes passed around and copied from village to village. When cell phones with cameras and decent microphones became affordable, that became the new medium. We met folks who had never met Haingu but had crude recordings of his on their handphone, passed on from friend to friend.
I’d first heard of Haingu from the Smithsonian Folkways album Music of Indonesia, Vol. 20: Indonesian Guitars. American ethnomusicologist Philip Yampolsky had recorded him twenty years before, in a village not far from where we sat. “Ah, Pak Philip”, he remembered. “That was back when we lived on the mountain. Before our house burned down.” Life is hard, indeed.
In the spirit of the medium, I told Haingu about my own difficulties. I want to propose to my girlfriend, I confessed, but I’m afraid that her parents don’t approve of me. A slight dramatization of the reality, but it felt universal enough that Haingu could work with it: I couldn’t imagine Haingu had any available verses about the struggles of getting an Indonesian visa. He listened with warm understanding and said okay, I’ve got a song for you. Are your recorders ready?
The song was in Kambera, a language totally lost on me. But as he played, Haingu would look at me with eyes of twinkling empathy, the soulful sound of universal hardships in his voice. My life was nowhere near as hard as Haingu’s, not even close, and we both knew it. We came with fancy gadgets and tripods, and we’d soon leave again. But Haingu had listened anyway, and he’d sung for me. After the song was over, I asked what he’d said. “I sang that the best thing for you to do, if you really want to get married, is to just do it.” The next week, I followed his advice and proposed to my girlfriend on a hill outside of Bandung, Haingu’s words briefly sliding through my mind.
After Haingu’s last song, he ended his session as I’m sure he’s done many times before: with an advertisement. “I live in Motong Geding village”, he announced. “For folks who want to hear my songs, come on down the road via the road with the Mandiri shop. Now, if you’re already at the Mandiri shop, take the white road and you’ll reach my house.” As he stood up and shook our hands one by one, I took the moment to stealthily slip some bills into his palm, thanking him for his generosity. Half drunk from sopi, we touched noses in the Sumbanese style, with my buddy Logan confusedly going in for a kiss as his turn came. Woozy and happy, we followed his kids to a baking, deserted beach and played in the placid sea. Hiding our pink bodies beneath the surface, we looked back towards Sumba from the warm waters with disbelief.
At last month’s Atlantic Music Expo in Cape Verde, we met Nedjim Bouizzol, guitarist, singer, songwriter and leader of the band Labess. After growing up in Algeria, Nedjim relocated to Montreal, Canada at age 18 and has released three albums with Labess since 2007, the latest being La Route, released in 2016. He’s spent this past year in Barranquilla, on the Caribbean coast of Colombia, where he’s been collaborating with local Colombian and Cuban musicians.
“What I’ve understood is that we all have roots in Africa. Because if we compare the Cubans, the Colombians and all their rhythms with all of the rhythms that we have in Algeria–there’s a lot in common. Beyond that, there’s a second big similarity even if it’s not visible, and that’s Arab culture. Because Arab culture and Spanish culture co-existed for eight centuries. Whenever there’s a little bit of flamenco, the people here react right away.”
When pressed to describe his sound, Nedjim offers “gypsy chaabi” or even “chaabi cumbia” for his latest project. Chaabi is an Algerian folk music inspired by the vocal traditions of Arab and Berber Andalusian music. The Spanish region of Andalusia is also where flamenco originated, a style which Nedjim cites as his main influence, with specific interest in “rumba flamenca,” which developed out of flamenco in late 19th century Andalusia when Cuban music first reached Spain. “The roots of flamenco are Arab too, you know. It was in Andalusia, and for eight centuries Andalusia was shared between Arabs, Gypsies and Spanish people. So when I heard flamenco for the first time I was like, ‘Wow, this is my music.’ I felt as if I had grown up there, you know?” Nedjim also draws from the musical traditions of the Romani (or Gypsy) people who migrated through North Africa from India around a thousand years ago and have a rich folk music tradition, having contributed significantly to flamenco as well.
In Nedjim’s words, Labess is an “adventure of many musicians.” Collaboration is key to his approach to music and an important source of inspiration. He constantly seeks “just to meet other people, other humans, other stories, other cultures, other melodies.” When he arrived in Montreal, he met musicians from many different countries, including Colombia, Cuba and Haiti. “The common point was Africa,” Nedjim says. “The rhythms of Africa are everywhere. In Uganda or West Africa, the rhythms are very similar. Even in Cuba or Colombia, that is the common part. After that, the melodies are a little different: in Algeria we have the Turkish influence and the Gypsy influence too.” In Colombia, he also finds a shared experience of conflict: Nedjim’s family left Algeria in the 1990s due to the civil war and growing violence, whereas Colombia has seen armed conflict between the government and various armed groups since the mid-1960s. Many of his songs draw upon this painful past, and he sees sharing stories and experiences as crucial towards dealing with one’s struggles: “In the beginning I felt like I’m suffering just by myself. But when you compare, everyone is talking about the same story, when I arrive to Colombia, people have a little bit of the same story.”
“Labess means chevere” in Arabic, Nedjim says, offering the Colombian slang term which can be approximated to “all good.” “It’s a key word because in North Africa we always use this word, ‘labess.’ It’s the question and the affirmation too.” All good? All good. After a year in Barranquilla, Nedjim has absorbed a lot of Colombian culture. He went there initially for an artistic residency, but after having been exposed to the local musicians, he decided to come back for a much more in depth project. He’s spent the time working with Colombian and Cuban musicians based in the coastal city, bringing together North African and Algerian musical traditions with the local cumbia and vallenato styles. The result is is a highly energetic fusion driven by Nedjim’s skilled guitar alongside Afro-Latin percussion, the quintessential vallenato accordion and the fiery horns that he was so strongly drawn to upon his first visit to Barranquilla. Sistema Solar’s MC Walter “Indigo” Hernandez has also performed with the group, and Nedjim was featured on the band’s latest album.
Supported by the Alliance Française, Labess y la Banda de Barranquilla has performed around Colombia and will be touring the country in May. An album is in the works to be recorded over the next year: “inshallah,” adds Nedjim.
BONUS: We recorded Labess performing an acoustic version of Colombian musician Carlos Vives’ classic song “Rosa” at the Atlantic Music Expo.
320 kbps | 196 MB | LINKS
Tracks:
1. Strand Of Oaks – Radio Kids (04:31)
2. Tinariwen – Sastanàqqàm (03:24)
3. Lift To Experience – Falling From Cloud 9 (04:41)
4. Mind Over Mirrors – Restore & Slip (06:43)
5. The Feelies – Gone Gone Gone (03:42)
6. Jens Lekman – What’s That Perfume That You Wear? (03:31)
7. Duke Garwood – Coldblooded (03:09)
8. Allison Crutchfield – Dean’s Room (04:17)
9. Michael Chapman – Memphis In Winter (06:49)
10. Son Volt – Back Against The Wall (03:27)
11. Nikki Lane – Jackpot (03:32)
12. Tim Darcy – Tall Glass Of Water (03:24)
13. Six Organs Of Admittance – Taken By Ascent (07:11)
14. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard – Sleep Drifter (04:36)
15. The Necks – Timepiece [Excerpt] (11:09)
320 kbps | 105 MB | LINKS
This CD is the brainchild of John Henry, blues enthusiast, promoter and businessman from Waterville, OH (near Toledo). Henry has been an instrumental figure in the blues scene in Ohio for decades. One of the best blues venues in the Toledo area is Henry’s shop, Third Street Cigar, in downtown Waterville. This intimate setting hosts national touring acts, as well as local bands, on a regular basis. Henry founded his record company Third Street Cigar Records in 2017 . Henry recognized Bobby G’s talent and enthusiasm and enlisted his long time friend, Johnny Rawls, to produce this CD for Bobby G on the Third Street Cigar Records label.
VBR~267 kbps | 85 MB | LINKS
Now a quintet, the second album for Fluff & Gravy from The Harmed Brothers, a Portland outfit framed around founding members Ray Vietti and Alex Salcido, follows on from last year’s A Lovely Conversation EP. Included, are two numbers from that EP, the distorted guitars pop-rocker relationship-in-crisis title-track and the slow building soulful ballad When I Get Back.
The other tracks are a mix of new material and new versions of old songs, such as the album opener, Greetings From Mardi Gras; a song about a relationship that breaks up while on the road. It originally featured on 2010’s limited release All The Lies You Wanna Hear. Here it’s been extended by almost two minutes and, introduced with the sound of rain, transformed from an alt-country jog to something far more wearier and sad, sung in a cracked voice, coloured by mournful violin and erupting into a brief tumult towards the end.
From the same album, they also revisit the screw-up themed Cryin’Shame, replacing the banjo with piano and strings and again giving it a more melancholic pace. Then, from 2012’s Come Morning, while Elvis The Lion retains its slow tempo, it too is longer and gets a more muscular arrangement with a dominant bluesy electric guitar.
Everything else is previously unrecorded, the first up being another road song, the twangy rolling drive of alt-country Adopt A Highway, though relatively more positive (“oh yeah we’ll be broke, but we’ll never be broken”). The Wind is another slow, melancholic, dusty ballad, streaked with pedal steel and a steady snare beat rhythm while organ swirls in the background. Another song about the toll of life on the road is the steady-paced Life In Progress (“I’m thinking about packing it up, this life on the road without love, just turning the van around and coming back home”), a track that’s awash with brooding electric guitar.
Of the remaining two new songs, the salvation-seeking Don’t Wanna Be Lonesome is a slow swaying country waltz with mariachi horns with the album bringing down the shutters on the simple piano ballad Sunshine, gospel-tinged with handclaps and choral voices in the final stretch, echoing its predecessor’s hope on its chorus refrain “we’re gonna find our way home again.”
![VA - The African Guitar Box [5×Vinyl Limited Edition] (2012)](http://www.israbox.pw/uploads/posts/2017-05/1494248849_13223.jpg)
![VA - The African Guitar Box [5Vinyl Limited Edition] (2012)](http://lossless-galaxy.ru/uploads/posts/2017-05/thumbs/1494250427_13223.jpg "VA - The African Guitar Box [5Vinyl Limited Edition] (2012)")
