Listening Notes, Ultra-Brief (Pt. 128)
Balani Show Super Hits: Electronic Street Parties from Mali   (Sahelsounds)
âBalani Showâ refers to the Malian street parties enlivening boulevards from Bamako to Sikasso as well as the energetic dance music created by urban remixers specifically for such festivities, and from the way compiler Christopher Kirkley describes the styleâs genesis, itâs tough to deny parallels with The Bronx circa 1975. You know the story, or one like it: once balaphon players started proving too expensive for everyday hire, DJs and creative types started fucking around with records and sound systems, only in true millennial fashion the innovations were driven by laptops and cellphones rather than cds or turntables. Kirkley promises the ten tracks and seven artists represented herein showcase songs blessed with âheavy rotationâ in Bamako, and the result is this quite literal awesome tape from Africa - balafon patterns over incessant electro-beats, melodic chant and Bambara raps atop shekere and djembe instrumentation, rhythmic variations on coupĂ© dĂ©calĂ©, kuduro, and good old hip-hop. And while the production isnât especially dense, occasional auto-tuned vocals and ad hoc synth flourishes add melodic variety to the all-encompassing groove. Our compiler recommends a very loud volume for recreating that outdoor Malian milieu. Private art, it has its pleasures. But public art is sometimes so damn necessary.  Â
Bandcamp/digital. Â Â Vinyl.
 Moreno and LâOrch First Moja-One, Vol. 2: More Pili   (Sternâs)
Sternâs ongoing archival dig into the vaults of Nairobiâs AIT Records brings more West African soukous from the husky-voiced Moreno Batamba, who leapt between labels and crisscrossed national borders with Orchestra Moja-One before his early death. Vol. 1 bundled a 1983 Moreno album with rare 1977 acetates. This digital-only follow-up is early 1980s, with two unreleased cuts from â81 and six of eight tracks pushing beyond nine minutes. No horns and only a few sporadic keyboard washes, but plenty of rippling guitar from Mokili Sesti, on loan from fellow Congolese bandleader Samba Mapangalaâs mighty Orchestra Virunga (Mapangala himself contributes backing vocals to âDunia Ni Duaraâ). Familiar names surface; Lava Machine once again occupies the drum kit, and much love is rendered unto Morenoâs beloved Tanzanian girlfriend, Pili. And while the brisk arpeggios and rumba breakdowns of soukous/lingala prove as always remarkably sustaining, if itâs variety you seek, the final three tracks suggest this natural performerâs wide range - the jubilant reggae of âSitaki Mambo,â some organist channelling Spooner Oldham on soul ballad âMariana,â and the raw guitar of lo-fi closer âBokilaâ.Â
Nils Petter MolvÊr, Switch   (Okeh Records)
One of this Norwegian fusioneerâs cornier albums, what with the Joni Mitchell title allusions and the weighty presence of pedal steel guitarist Geir SundstĂžl. Lending a nice Bill Frisell/spaced cowboy vibe to the windswept Man With No Name vistas of opener âSwitch,â SundstĂžl assumes the duet position for the four all-too-aptly-named âIntrusionsâ that swallow fifteen minutes of playing time. But whenever MolvĂŠr lets drummer Erland Dahlen cut loose, this shimmers and slams, the leaderâs close-miked trumpet snarling above synth gurgles and layered percussive rivers. Those quieter corners have their pleasures. Still, for that cosmic worldbeat fix, program the album thusly and call it an EP: âThe Kit,â âStrange Pillows,â âBathroomâ.