Close window

Close window

Year END Appeal advertisement
Get our weekly e-Newsletter!
Recent Reviews
Antibalas' Afrobeat OrchestraAntibalas Who is This America Ropeadope Records,


This is the album Antibalas fans have been waiting for. Anyone who has spent time losing themselves in the polyrhythmic layers of Afrobeat funk at one of the hundreds of shows they've put on over the past half-decade knows their potential. Maybe it was their label switch, moving from the experimental Ninja Tune to the saviors of jamband and roots, Ropeadope. Maybe it was the decision (finally!) to portray on wax what they do on stage: extended versions rather than brief snippets. Maybe it was their steady gradation from pure Afrobeat to Latin flavors ("Che Che Cole" on Turntables on the Hudson 4 a great starting point). Maybe it was the inclusion of frontman's Amayo's vocals, the warmly domineering figure live finally given the chance to shine in the earpods. Or maybe it was the Yoruba deities of Lagos setting up a massive skyward sound system which the 16-member collective heard standing atop their mountain of Brooklyn, screaming, "Give us what you got already, damn it!"

What they got is one of the hottest releases this year. Formed in '98 by saxophonist Martin Perna after a brainstorm meditating on Zapatistas while in Mexico, the decision was clear: to keep the lineage of Nigeria's Fela Kuti alive. Never having received the much-deserved international attention of a Bob Marley, Kuti has been enshrined (much like his hometown club where he started the madness) by audiences globally hip to the fact that, to get inside a song, to really feel the build and sway and emotion of a tune, it takes more than 3 1/2 radio minutes. Opening with a slightly-extended take of the album title ("Who is This America Dem Speak of Today?"), the 12 minutes spent let you know they're in it for the full ride. And while this, again like their performances, is a group effort, there's something undeniably engaging about the power of Amayo's vocals. His likeness to Kuti is poignant, but for those who've watched his show-stealing live antics, he is a character unto himself. The man can rhyme a hypnotic pattern relating the CIA, HMO and NBA and make sense of it; it's the suspending of disbelief comprising his craft.

"I personally tend to like the mid-tempo and slower grooves because that's where you feel the hypnotic elements," he told me earlier this year in an interview for Rattapallax. "If you go too fast you tend to miss the message. But in terms of an Afrobeat show, there needs to be room for the meditative aspect and hopefully people leave with new rejuvenation with whatever struggle they have." The blaring subject matter of struggle on this record is, obviously, the upcoming election. "Indictment," the shortest cut here, is brilliant in its maddening horn lines and bullet-like drum patterns, along with shouted indictments of Bush, Rice, Cheney and crew. But they never loose the groove; like proper political statements, the song doesn't submit to a message, but enhances it. Even more so on the closing "Sister," a heartfelt tune where Amayo truly muscles his way through the slowest - and longest - cut at 19+ minutes. He doesn't even speak until after 9, and when he does, this track dedicated to masculine support and softening towards women carries you gorgeously to the album's end.

"Not jams" drummer Phill Ballman told me a few years back in a piece in Relix, assured that, despite the circuit they constantly find themselves on, Antibalas is not a jamband. Searing through the 14-minute "Elephant," a traditional Yoruba chant arranged and sung by Ernesto Abreu, the freeform feeling is structured tightly. Throughout any show there may be moments of improvisation, but when dealing with 15 other cats on stage, one best not stray. This has been Antibalas' cornerstone: the ability to keep to the program while liberating the sound enough to sound completely inspired by the moment. With Talkatif and Liberation Afrobeat Vol. 1, their first two records, this never came across quite right. Fortunately the Orishas caught wind of it and decided it was time to speak up.
Contributed by Derek Beres