music reviews


FELA KUTI Afrodisiac (Partisan) AAAAA


If James Brown was the Godfather Of Soul, Fela Kuti was Afrobe- at’s equivalent. With as many LPs as wives, it’s tricky to know where to start in Fela’s vast catalogue: many would dip in at Zom- bie, Expensive Shit or Shakara, but less well known is Afrodisiac, the fifth in a series of 50th anniversary reissues. Where most of Fela’s tunes build slowly over 15 minutes or more, Alu Jon Jonki Jon sets off at a blistering pace, with Tony Allen’s octopus-like drums, syncopated horns, Fela’s sermonising and electric piano riffs. Jeun Ko Ku aka Chop’n Quench is an instrumental beloved by the likes of Masters At Work, and Eko Ile is a super-heavy funk jam. Fela sings in his native tongue, hiding some of the more overt- ly political lyrics from the Anglophone world, although Je’nwi Temi / Don’t Gag Me shows a man unafraid to speak his own mind.


CHRIS SEAL


GILLES PETERSON & LIONEL LOUEKE


HH Reimagined (Edition) AAA


Meet West African guitarist Lionel Loueke, emo- tional-jazz expert. Then introduce his mentor, Herbie Hancock, who inspired Loueke’s album HH – a tribute to the legendary pianist’s compo- sitions. And then throw Gilles Peterson, French- born DJ, into the mix. What do you get when you mix all these together? HH Reimagined, an oddball of an album. The recreational record from the two takes the already-joyful album HH into an electronic-jolted wonderland, though at times nothing similar to the original. One Finger Snap’s initial, sinister-sounding guitar riff trans- forms into a repetitive dance track, complete with echoing robotic vocals. Watermelon Man starts off with an underwater type distortion, leading into pounding warped drums and alien sound-ef- fects. The pick of the bunch for me is Tell Me A Bedtime Sto- ry,


an eight-minute assortment of jungle bird-caws,


clangs and warming riffs. An eccentric, ex- otic record, all in all.


industrial INDIA MUNDAY JAMIE LENMAN


The Atheist (Big Scary Monsters) AAAA


Jamie Lenman goes for his broadest strokes yet on this very good collection of heavier than aver- age indie-rock storm- ers. The Atheist is a post-lockdown album of emotional release, full of singalong cho- ruses, big drums and even bigger themes. Though opener This Is All There Is’ theme and content is bombastic and blunt, the other bookend, War Of Doubt, is a powerful and broodingly effective closer that packs a real punch. In between, Lenman is even better when he deals with love (My Anchor) and smaller, but no less important, matters such as Bad Friends; using the more commercial rock textures to tell uncomplicated stories that have complicated feelings behind them. Song On My


36


Tongue is perhaps the best example of this. Len- man recorded all the parts himself and it’s a tes- tament to his delivery – and Mark Roberts’ pro- duction – that The Atheist is full of performances you can believe in.


JOHN-PAUL DAVIES


LEFTFIELD This Is What We Do (Virgin) AAAA


Leftfield’s debut album, 1995’s seminal, speak- er-blowing deep dub and futuristic Afrobeat-im- mersed Leftism, remains a contender for best ever dance music full-length. Consequently, any subsequent releases are held up in comparison to that weighty debut. This Is What We Do is the closest Leftfield have come to giving Leftism something to fret about: an electro-heavy mon- ster that’s akin to a Bronx block party soaking up the vibes of the Brotherhood Club in De- troit, with an end result that is undeniably a Neil Barnes creation. Poet Lemn Sissay, who featured on Leftism’s 21st Century Poem, returns to the Leftfield fold for the poignant Making A Dif- ference, while the fine first three tracks to be re- leased from the album – Pulse, Accumulator and Full Way Round, featuring Grian Chat- ten


DC – are not even the best of the dozen that make up This Is What We Do. After three decades, Leftfield still reign supreme.


from Fontaines DAVID NOBAKHT


sibilities Of Modern Shopping (Cherry Red) AAAA


Mozart Estate


new name for Go-Kart Mozart which means this is the return of Lawrence, a singular prince of British in- dependent music (see also Felt and Denim) whose surname is a matter of public record but never used out of


is the


MOZART ESTATE Pop-Up! Ker-Ching! And The Pos-


theatricality of The Fool and The Tip Of An Ar- row’s chug are a welcome callback to Henki, the Geordie artist’s recent collaboration with Finnish metallers Circle, while Horse And Rider gives the listener an unexpectedly stirring send-off. There will inevitably be those who take one look


time and recoil, cry- ing self-indulgence, but if anyone should be given the licence to do what he wants, it’s Dawson – a true origi- nal in an age of feeble facsimiles.


at the running BEN WOOLHEAD SWEET BABOO


The Wreckage (Amazing Tapes From Canton) AAAAA


This latest from Ste- phen Black aka Sweet Baboo is actually his first under that mon- iker since 2017, and The Wreckage sits up there alongside the material of Black’s previous collaborators (Cate LeBon, Gruff Rhys et al) in its clean indie freshness. A psychedelic undercurrent flows through the album, not in the usual sonic meanderings you may expect but in the lightness of voice, unusual chord progressions and shifts in texture. Black sounds like a modern Syd Barrett on songs like the beautifully bouncy Worry and there’s shades of 90s luminaries like The Divine Comedy elsewhere. But the difference is that Ba- boo is just more consistent, his style is harmo- nious without being uninteresting, his writing is strong without being alienating. In short, this re- ally is an excellent album of songs that pay their dues but are thoroughly modern and refreshingly unique. You’d be hard pushed to find someone who wouldn’t enjoy music this good.


JOHN-PAUL DAVIES TOM JENKINS


It Comes In The Morning, It Hangs


In The Evening Sky (Xtra Mile) AAA


some kind of deferential omertà. This excruciat- ingly titled album was recorded with a small or- chestra’s worth of musicians but, in its inimitable assembly of synthpop, glam, powerpop and mu- sical theatre sounds like the mad DIY vision of a solitary man and his digital workstation, which I mean entirely as a compliment. Likewise when I say that very few albums in recent years have in- duced more genuine laughs than P!K!&TPOMS: mostly via the lyrics, from a reference in the opening song to hook-handed terror cleric Abu Hamza onwards, but also the precise placement of (possibly synthesised) pedal steel in the track Four White Men In A Black Car.


NOEL GARDNER


RICHARD DAWSON The Ruby Cord (Weird World) AAAA


Weighing in at 41 minutes long and composed of several distinct segments, The Hermit – the remarkable opening track on Richard Dawson’s new record – is effectively an album in its own right. An extended meditative, lugubrious in- troduction – brushed drums, notes left to hang heavy – gives way to hallucinogenic pastoral folk that is both experimental and epic. Front- loading the LP like this is fraught with danger, but what follows isn’t overshadowed. The initial


Following an impressive set at this year’s Swn Festival, Welsh singer-songwriter and former Straight Lines frontman Tom Jenkins has re- turned with his second solo album. On It Comes In The Morning, It Hangs In The Evening Sky, Jenkins offers his own brand of alternative folk to good effect here with songs such as Products of The Western World (which includes a lovely bit of pedal steel guitar), the beautiful Cocaine Hearts, and the semi-epic Back Roads, all com- ing to life with the help of Jenkins’ backing band. Closing track 2086 (Write It On My Grave) starts with just Jenkins and his guitar, before said back- ing band comes in for an almighty finish, and is just one of the high- lights along with those mentioned above. A solidly good album, cementing Jenkins’ place as one of Wales’ talented songwriters right now.


JOSHUA WILLIAMS


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