The latest from this pioneering Zimbabwe pop musician is a beautiful, brooding bundle of energized melancholy. You can feel Tuku's instinctive good will and optimism struggling to blossom through the gloom of Zimbabwe's forever delayed springtime. From the first track, "Ndakuvara" (I am hurt), there's a wounded edge in his voice. The song is about a man who has been kicked by a young ox he was trying to train. The heavy beat and minor key suggest a special urgency, to the point where you wonder if there isn't a larger message. "I thought this young ox would be like its elders," sings Tuku, "and yet it has ignored its elders." Could this possibly be a comment on the violent gangs of youths who currently terrorize Zimbabwe?

Many of these ten songs raise questions like that. After the massive flap Tuku inspired in Zimbabwe in 2000 when his song "Wasakara" (You're worn out) was taken as a comment on aging President Mugabe, one inevitably listens for hidden messages in his work. But if they're there, they're well hidden indeed. Unlike his peer, Thomas Mapfumo, who blasts Zimbabwe's failed leaders with unvarnished broadsides in his new work, Tuku is disinclined to spell out political intentions. "I sing the songs," he typically says, "and people interpret them as they will."

The slow, anthem-like "Gondo" (Don't be like an eagle) is a call to control anger. "Kueskana Kwanakamba" (Laughing at each other) is a sweetly loping anti-drinking song rich with South African-style vocal harmonies. "Kucheneka" (Don't kill me) is one of the most impressive songs musically, a tight ball of rhythm, animated by sensational trap drumming from Sam Mataure. Here, Tuku taunts the casual killer: "You may as well go all the way and eat my body as well." This soulful set ends with a sadly soothing number about AIDS, "Tapera" (We have been decimated). Guest pianist Paul Hamer adds the rich warmth of South African jazz to the track.

In all, Tuku delivers a powerful musical and lyrical snapshot of life in a deeply suffering nation. We don't need to know his politics, or to read critical barbs into his proverb-laden songs. The blue mood, and that wounded, weary, but spiritually powerful voice say it all.

Contributed by: Banning Eyre for www.afropop.org