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The West still has a tendency to evaluate music from Africa in slightly condescending terms–witness how anything rhythmic or percussion-led is so often described as tribal, like it just shuffled up in a grass skirt waving a spear. Of course, anyone listening to a good amount of music from the continent will know the African nations are as subject to the contemporary cultural tides as anywhere on Earth. And it's perhaps Konono No.1, a street dance band from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, who most neatly encapsulates this mélange of modernity and tradition.
Africa has long been the junkyard of the West, and it's in this territory of discarded scrap that Konono make their home. Founded in 1980 by likembé master Mawangu Mingiedi, Konono fuse the polyrhythmic dance sounds of Bazombo trance with a spirit of makeshift invention: scrap metal drums, homemade speakers built with magnets salvaged from car radios, and so on. One suspects that their debut album, 2005's Congotronics, won critical plaudits because of rather than despite its roughshod vigour–and if the long-awaited follow-up, Assume Crash Position, takes a softer, more organic approach, it hasn't tempered their sense of electric motion.
This fuller sound comes courtesy of an extended band, which sees Mingiedi's original line-up augmented by new personnel including a raft of new vocalists, guitarist Manuaku Pepe Felly and members of fellow Congotronics band Kasai Allstars. There is evidence of a cleaner sound, too–those electric likembé thumb pianos, which once blasted through distortion, now sing slightly cleaner, and the crash of scrap drums is subsumed deeper into the mix. Under Mingiedi's command, though, you feel the band still have the leadership to turn on a dime: see how Thin Legs switches from its menacing, polyrhythmic opening to a sudden explosion of melody, male and female voices interlocking joyfully.
Assume Crash Position comes to a head with Konono Wa Wa Wa, which builds to a delirious climax, likembé soloing with all the cartoonish intricacy of bluegrass banjo plucking. The album ends in new territory for Konono–a mournful solo piece by Mingiedi where he details his romantic woes over chimes of unplugged thumb piano.
Assume Crash Position doesn't have the immediate impact of Congotronics, but it shows Konono are still morphing and innovating, led by a spirit of discovery–and whatever they find and pick up along the way. --Louis Pattison
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DMC Update, (Darren Wall), May 2010
(5 stars) A magical brew like little else...Producer Vincent Kenis has created another masterpiece...trance music completely redefined. Awesome.
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Customer Reviews
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Format:Audio CD
Another album from Congotronics. Energetic and upbeat tunes from Konono Nr 1! A lot of thumb-piano, drums and strong vocals.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews on Amazon.com (beta)
Amazon.com:
1 review
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
21st Century Schizoid Men
1 Jun 2011
Format:Audio CD
[If you don't yet know TP Konono No. 1, this album is not for you. You want Congotronics, do you EVER.]
I was a bit worried about this release, thinking that their recent whirlwind tour of Europe and the US, and their collaboration with Herbie Hancock, Bjork et al might have gone to their heads, and they might have "sold out."
No such fear at all, unfortunately. If anything, they've retrenched and created a (somewhat) more traditional album. Many of the songs at least start out sounding like more-or-less standard African music: calls, responses, normal-sounding instrumentation.
They're good at it, but if you're like me, you came here for more of the unique thing these guys invented, their rule-wrecking, joy 'n giggle-producing percussive noise ANIMAL that is their big rude black foot in the door of 21st Century music. When the standard-sounding singing goes on here for a bit too long, you might get impatient for the percussive animal to break out.
Well, don't worry: it shows up regularly. There's lots of percussive joy here, and the real gem is the 12-minute "Konono Wa Wa Wa": you liked them before but thought you knew their limits? Hah! The first 6:45 is fairly standard, but then all Hell breaks loose exactly as God ordained it.
Most of the tracks start out fairly standard, but then get properly chaotic as they go on. The real exception is Nakobala Lususo Te, the last track, which is a quiet, acoustic study by the band's founder on the likembé. Listen and get a few hints of exactly where this delightful, insane music originated. But then put on "Konono Wa Wa Wa" again with the volume turned to eleven, on repeat...
I was a bit worried about this release, thinking that their recent whirlwind tour of Europe and the US, and their collaboration with Herbie Hancock, Bjork et al might have gone to their heads, and they might have "sold out."
No such fear at all, unfortunately. If anything, they've retrenched and created a (somewhat) more traditional album. Many of the songs at least start out sounding like more-or-less standard African music: calls, responses, normal-sounding instrumentation.
They're good at it, but if you're like me, you came here for more of the unique thing these guys invented, their rule-wrecking, joy 'n giggle-producing percussive noise ANIMAL that is their big rude black foot in the door of 21st Century music. When the standard-sounding singing goes on here for a bit too long, you might get impatient for the percussive animal to break out.
Well, don't worry: it shows up regularly. There's lots of percussive joy here, and the real gem is the 12-minute "Konono Wa Wa Wa": you liked them before but thought you knew their limits? Hah! The first 6:45 is fairly standard, but then all Hell breaks loose exactly as God ordained it.
Most of the tracks start out fairly standard, but then get properly chaotic as they go on. The real exception is Nakobala Lususo Te, the last track, which is a quiet, acoustic study by the band's founder on the likembé. Listen and get a few hints of exactly where this delightful, insane music originated. But then put on "Konono Wa Wa Wa" again with the volume turned to eleven, on repeat...
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