Africa to the ATL

ANTHONY DAVID
The Red Clay Chronicles (Brash)

An early friendship between two Atlantians inspired the musical careers of both India.Arie and Anthony David. Indeed, India sounds magnificent on the duet “Words” here on David’s sophomore outing. But it’s his soulful guitar strumming and reliance on a dusky, woodsy R&B-inflected voice proving his true calling card. Turning up production on tasteful beats and proving his place as modern troubadour with penetrating lyrics, his fervent slides on “Smoke One” and the funky “Sho Nuff” will make these records as memorable as any by Donny Hathaway and Bill Withers: “Everything is Everything” has that intimate, lean on him sort of soul.

CAMILLE
Le Fil (Narada)

Cutting her teeth with unique Parisian band Nouvelle Vague (whose last album featured bossa nova covers of ‘80s songs by the likes of Joy Division), Camille’s second solo outing has already won accolades on her home continent. A predominantly a cappella record, backed by light, yet effective, instrumentation, Le Fil plays like a diary of inner terrain: secrets, emotions, victories, defeat. It is a passionate attempt at showing the integrity the voice, and many voices, can accomplish. The tasteful arrangements on the quiet “Pour Que L'amour Me Quitte” and “Vertige” are reflective and soft. Yet when she puts it into second gear, as on the Rahzel-inspired “Ta Douleur,” the groove is unavoidable. Throughout the entire record a continual hum underlies each song, and the album closes with nearly 39 minutes of nothing but Camille’s a cappella drone. Given the quality of the entire album, it is not the only thing buzzing.

SALIF KEITA
M’Bemba (Decca)

The “Golden Voice of Mali” shines brighter as Salif Keita evolves from his previous brilliance on Moffou. The guitarist/vocalist is simply on fire. Since his days in the late ‘70s with Les Ambassadeurs, Keita has not only become one of Africa’s most important musical figures, he’s done it with a cultural taboo encoded by birthright. Turning an old superstition on its head – that of being albino – he recently began funneling 10% of all royalties to a new foundation for albino children. With records like M’Bemba, that money should prove mighty; few acoustic musicians of his continent prove as diverse and open-minded. This becomes apparent in the hyper strains of “Ladji,” a tour de force featuring a beautiful call-and-response hook interspersed by flourishes of Celtic and Bollywood accents, as well as dancehall great Buju Banton bouncing patois English off his Bambara lyrics. On “Lambo” he returns to the ‘80s feel that made him infamous, reminiscent of fellow pioneers Orchestra Baobob and Bembeya Jazz, in which blazing guitars and tight percussion set fire to the dance floor. The production is outstanding throughout, capturing the upbeat guitars and precise cadence of “Laban” and “Calculer,” lying seamlessly beside the more reflective “Dery” and “Moriba.” On that last number, also the album’s closer, Keita takes an approach in the vain of Baaba Maal: haunting, sober guitars and a bone-chilling poetry nearly screamed through an impassioned entrancement. You can almost envision the musicians’ inducement during recording sessions. There’s too much magic to believe they were not tapping into something primal, earthy and, to the world outside, sonically astounding.

ETRAN FINATAWA
Introducing Etran Finatawa (Introducing/World Music Network)

One of the obvious benefits of global technologies is taking a peek into sights and sounds that would otherwise have remained fable or hearsay, or, possibly, never heard at all. Given the generous influx of African music piped into American stereos year after year, we are continually educating ourselves about this diverse continent through a range of cultures. Thanks to Tuareg rock/blues/roots band Tinariwen the West was introduced to a unique desert-folk-meets-blues soundscape. Taking cue, Etran Finatawa is next in that queue, although with a much rootsier, grittier and overall more hypnotic sound. A blending of 10 musician from two tribes of Niger, their debut is a fantastical voyage through deep, heavy-handed percussion with luminous earth tone bass lines (thanks to producer Chris Birkett, who recorded the band in one room in France). The lush textures of the azakalabo (water-flooding calabash), akayaure (metal rings on a metal plate, worn on legs) and the occasional lilt of the odiliri, a traditional flute, mesh with call-and-response vocals, both ceremonial and informational in content. The six-string guitar playing is excellent, weaving and ducking into handclaps and the calabash. The vocals truly drive this project, accentuated by leader Ghalitane Khamidoune. Much like the Gnawa of Morocco (Birkett’s bass also adds a sintir feel), these songs are healing: “Ronde,” which almost mimics the overnight lila ceremony of the Gnawa, and “Maleele,” about a beautiful girl that comes to dance in call to spirits. The most trance-inducing number, however, is certainly the closing “Heeme.” A song honoring the culture’s camel races, it is too short at just over four minutes. Again like Gnawa, or possibly the Qawwals of Pakistan, it has that special gravity in which 24 minutes would be more appropriate.

KAL
Kal (Asphalt Tango)

During a recent interview with Kal founder Dragan Ristic, the outspoken frontman lashed out against the term “gypsy,” pointing toward its inherent bias to Rom culture. He referred to various organizations and committees dedicated to preserving and – as his band is doing – evolving the flexible nature of Roma people. Snippets of bhangra, tango, blues, flamenco, Arabian rhythms and hip-hop burrow inside Kal’s dozen tracks. Showing the adaptability of Romani culture is not only a musical realization for this crew, but a social mission. Just as the Rom traveled from India and re-rooted themselves in numerous lands, picking up and transforming various folk music along the way, the Serbian Ristic uses jet planes to transport his style to the planet. Light use of electronics, guitar and fiddle virtuosity fuel this animated fire. The opening “Duj Duj” is prime for dance floors, featuring blaring, shiny guitars, Turkish percussion and the crucial horn lines reminiscent of Balkan brass. “Dvojka” continues an upbeat escalade with a drum ‘n bass backdrop laden with stellar violin strains. But Ristic does not keep it hyped: “Lili” and “Djelem, Djelem” represent the restive states of Romani song. The marching band sound on “Boro Boro” adds a large feel to the record; the epic clarinet and female vocals add an intense charm. The finger-picking violin/accordion play on “Mozzarella” – complete with the necessary good-time whistling – brings the record back to the Hungarian tanchez vibe. Ristic goes to tremendous lengths at including all his influences on Kal. No matter which direction you turn, he’s there with a bottle of vodka and a smile, waiting for you to join the dance.