Herve & Kissy Sell Out "Rikkalicious"

I have to give kudos to a mix by none other than the DJs of Manctastic club collective known as Shoplifters for turning me onto this tune and reminding me that house music is my heartbeat. While I was already familiar with Kissy Sell Out for his prolific remixing and independent record label holding, I knew nothing of Herve. After doing a little research (ahem, looking at his Myspace page) I discovered his more familiar alter ego The Count, whose done some work with Sinden. If you've never heard of either, it just means that he's cool.
Regardless, "Rikkalicious" doesn't sound much like either Kissy Sell Out's or Herve's signature ghetto booty beat sounds - though both producers display an ability move throughout the electronic sphere with chameleon like ease.
In the case of "Rikkalicious," the two producers have nostalgically paid homage to the 90's roots of electronic music, when house and trance used to hang out together because they didn't know any better. There is an unabashed and anthemic trance groove in this tune, (tarted up with a bit of analog synths but essentially pure) that make for that orgasmic build up which leads to the inevitable fist pump that is the reason I fell in love with dance music.
Everything about this song is just right from the quirky blippy bit to do a glowstick show (if you're into that sort of thing), to the lush female vocals looped in, true to the disco roots of house. While the club mix provides a heightened dance floor experience, I have to hand it to the hefty 12" mix; clocking in at a lovely 7:26, it allows the listener a perfect amount of time to get into the groove and finishes with an unhurried, blissful outro that acts like a cool down after the adrenaline rush.

Check it.

Kailash Kher - "Dilruba"

I have to thank this discovery to Morning Becomes Eclectic on KCRW. Every time I get too jaded with Morning Becomes Eclectic thinking that I'm too hip/knowledgeable to be impressed by their content, there's a song that comes on leaving me itching to find out the name, and humbling me from backseat DJ back to average listener.
As soon as I heard the first strains of "Dilruba," I was convinced it was Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan song remixed. I turned up the volume and realized that there was no electronic production, and no fancy tricks with the instrumentals; merely playful syncopation, and an undulating rhythm that sounded so fresh I wondered if Nusrat hadn't collaborated with some hip producer towards the end of his life and career.
So it was to my great surprise when I found out that this gem was by Kailash Kher, a succesful Indian pop and Sufi singer today, who is actually a judge for Indian Idol (which is exactly what it sounds like.) True to his sound and his genre, Kailash claims Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan as a great inspiration, which warmed my heart. While I know nothing about Sufi music, I do remember one of the songs that initially got me interested in world music (and remains one of my favorite songs of all time to this day), found on a mixtape given to my parents by a groundbreaking DJ who would later become my boss and mentor.
The song was Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's "Mustt a Mustt," which grabbed me with the perfectly restrained raw power of Nusrat's vocals, as well as the meditative chanting and a rhythm that I now know sounds a bit like reggae. It's so beautifully calming, I think that when trip-hop legends Massive Attack remixed the original, it was partially out of jealousy for not having recreated the chilled out vibe electronically, despite being chillout masters.
All the elements of a Nusrat tune are there in "Dilruba" - the gently lulling rhythm, tranquil backing chorus and tightly controlled quivering vocals. Yet Kailash's voice is younger, more polished, with a distinctly pop finish, and his instrumental section is fuller and richer. In this case, newer isn't necessarily better than - rather, "Dilruba" is a perfect example of a evolved touches on a traditional genre with a respectful acknowledgment of its master.

Sidenote: I've listened to this at least twenty times today, and each time I listen, I love this song a little more because of its devotional aspect. I find it fascinating that a devotional singer can reach such a level of popularity, especially one so integrated with even the secular side of a culture. While part of me wants to look up the meaning of the lyrics, another part of me (the part of me that will win) doesn't care. There's something primal (and dare I say mystical) about not analyzing and being able to listen to music from another religion (especially one at such odds with my own) and allowing myself only to appreciate its beauty and be moved by whatever parts of it I do understand.

Listen.

Amadou and Mariam - Welcome to Mali (album)

As a commuter, music is essential to my daily experience. Without it, the hours spent in the car can be dull, and feel like wasted time with unsatisfactory snippets of tired songs on the radio, or another hour with an album I've listened to one too many times. Until I come across an album like "Welcome to Mali" - an album so perfect it begs to be savored with motion and an incredible VW Jetta sound system.
Yes, I know that "perfect," is a very lavish term of praise. But I loved "Welcome to Mali" that much. To date, I have spent many hours behind the wheel contemplating just what words to choose to describe this wonderfully bright, happy album which turns something as mundane as a commute into a tolerable, if not enjoyable experience.
I fell in love with this joyous blind couple's music on the Manu Chao produced "Dimanche a Bamako." It had the signautre stamp of Manu Chao, with bold strokes of color, Manu's distinctive nasal backing vocals, and the natural talent and organic sounds of Amadou and Mariam. The album remains one of my favorite albums of all time to this day. Desperate for more, I had a listen to their 1999 release "Sou Ni Tile" which provided a lot of insight into their raw untouched sound - a more traditionally Malian sound with hints of bluegrass and loads of untapped potential, sort of like a naturally beautiful girl who has no idea what she would look like with makeup.
Though produced by Damon Albarn, (who I adore), I was dubious that he could make me love "Welcome to Mali" in the way that Manu Chao made me love "Dimanche a Bamako." Well, I have to give Damon even more kudos - his production is masterful and invisible. The album sounds closer to the folky, bluegrassy sounds of "Sou Ni Tile," but with a fresh coat of gloss.
Every song swells and crackles with life, streaked with reggae, afrobeat, bluegrass, rockabilly.
The album is a joy from start to finish. The sparse, electronic soundspace of "Sabali," with tender lyrics set to crisp beats is unlike anything I've ever heard from them, and sets the tone for an album that shows just the right amount of evolution for a seasoned artist.
Highlights include, "Djuru," which showcases a stunning bit of kora, as well as the romantic, "Je Te Kiffe," (which roughly translates to "I dig you") and has gentle instrumentals framing Amadou's beautifully uneven vocals. It is immediately followed by "Masiteladi," which bursts from the speakers with an incredible rock / blues guitar that is on par with Ry Cooder.
There is also the bouyant foot tapping "Sebeke," which is packed with rhythms, guitars, and quirky electronic bits for a tune so packed with joy and emotion and color that it makes me happy to be alive.

"Welcome to Mali" comes out in the US in March 2009 on Nonesuch Records.
I have no idea if they plan to tour the US, but I sure hope so, as their live concert remains of the most positive concert going experiences I've ever had.

Find out more about them on MySpace.



Correction - it has just been brought to my attention that Damon Albarn only produced "Sabali" while the rest of the album was produced by Marc-Antoine Moreau and Lauren Jais, who have been with the band for a majority of their album. Which means that while the album still rocks thoroughly, it is Marc-Antoine and Lauren, as well as Amadou and Mariam who deserve credit for near perfect evolution.