 Tony Allen I swear I'm not one of those people who says "Sweeeeet!" but there's no other way to put it: this is one sweeeeet fucking album. Tony Allen was the drummer for Fela Kuti during the classic years of Fela's glorious Afrobeat, and on Black Voices he turns out a contemporary version of the Fela sound, with the most irresistable, enrapturing drums ever. The disc is an eternal groove, amorphous but solid, with the drums front and center and lots of percussion floating in and out of the mix. Allen isn't as strong a vocalist or lyricist as Fela was, but who the fuck cares when your feet and head are swaying and bobbing and your fat ole booty is clenching and swooning? The music is very much along the lines of the great Fela albums, but with some electronic remixy elements thrown in that prevent it from being derivative of the master. How much of Allen was in Fela, or Fela in Allen, I don't know, all I know is I love the music, and I'm pleased as can be to see that Allen has produced a new release nearly as brilliant as the Afrika 70 albums I treasure so much. Word on the street is that some of Allen's own solo material from the 70s is going to see reissue on CD soon, and I can't wait. This is the only disc I've heard by him, and as must be real clear by now, I dig it. I bought it on a whim shortly before taking a trip up the Pacific Coast Highway from LA to San Francisco, and I listened to it for about four hours straight, with the sun shining and the road winding around the cliffs overlooking the coast – one of my best memories, and listening to this now takes me right back there. It was the exact right music at the exact right moment. Beyond that specific emotional connection, the music is just really fucking good. Tony's drumming is as tight as Tom Bosley's very best Ziploc (didn't he advertise Ziploc for awhile? If not, change previous simile to "as tight as Tom Bosley's waistband"), his snare finding impossibly tasty patterns and rendering you powerless to resist the groove. This is more dangerous than a snake charmer. Is a snake charmer dangerous? Man, my similes need some serious work. Distorted electric piano and clavinet, bass, phased vocals, some rolling-boil fuzz guitar, and a whole truckload of funky funky rhythm. The disc is programmed interestingly, with two of the tracks appearing twice in different mixes and another appearing only as a remix, but no original version. The whole thing comes of kind of like a Bill Laswell mix of a Fela album, a la Panthalassa – and now that I've said that out loud, can I have a hallelujah on how good a fucking disc that would be?! Damn. Best track on Black Voices is "The Same Blood," just over eight minutes of pure groove goodness. "Asiko" appears twice, the second time being a "silent mix" that draws out the ambience and focuses on the percussion rather than the straight drumming. "Black Voices" appears first as a remix, then later the original version appears, and it's a revelation – great, great, great, great song. Peter Gabriel should be sat down and forced to listen to this, and maybe he'd stop with all the worldbeat and go back to prog-rock. "I can't keep up with that, I'm going to go write a concept album!" he cries. This is deeply funky and just very fucking good. Heavy, heavy, wonderful, cool shit. My sole problem with the disc is that some of the vocals are mixed a bit far up front, especially on the first two cuts, and it just doesn't sit perfectly for me, sonically. By track three, though, the disc just COOKS and SMOKES and BURNS and all that stuff you like if it's drumming or sex, but not your house or mother-in-law.
Review by Chance Meeting |