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.

Natty - Man Like I (album)

Ok so I'm cheating - this album isn't out yet in the US and I don't actually know a release date but I know that has never stopped a savvy music listener from hearing something great. . .
The first thing that struck me listening to Natty's calmly rasping vocals and reggae rhythms was just how much he sounded like Spearhead (who I love.) But I wasn't satisfied just saying "Oh he sounds like Spearhead," and writing him off - I liked the album a little too much to do that, so I set out to figure out what it was that I liked so much about him that differentiated him from Spearhead.After much contemplation and car time, I've decided that what it all comes down to is the weather; and more specifically, warmth.
Spearhead's music is clearly from California - quirky, colorful, and summery. True, he has some more somber songs, but on all his albums, Michael Franti has perfectly crafted songs that are bright to the point of being celebratory and perfectly suited forthe dreadlocked masses to dance barefoot to before going off to eat something vegetarian.
And it's likely that Natty caters to the same crowd. But coming from a freezing place like London, warmth is something that needs to be contained, and likely indoors. The resulting sound is every as bit as warm, but much more intimate and cozy in a "lets huddle by the fire" kind of way as opposed to a "let's go frolic in the sun."
Keeping that in mind, whole debut Man Like I is a really enjoyable listen both pleasant and mellow in a way not unlike Jack Johnson. And within this good album lie a couple of great songs. Notably, the wistfully charming "Coloured Souls." Chillingly intimate and wistful, there is an earnestness to the song that I think can push it past the hippie world and into the pop realm.
Other highlights include "Badman," which boasts a nice bit of scat, and the slightly more urgent "Cold Town."

Estelle ft. Sean Paul - "Come Over"

I know I tend to write about songs or artists that have less exposure in the public domain, but every so often, a top forty song comes along that is so well deserving of its place that not only do I turn up my speakers when it comes on in my car, I sing along to it, and badly.
I fell in love with Estelle's vocals in her collaboration with Kanye West and his killer (and dare we say Daft Punk-esque production) on "American Boy," enjoyed her collaboration with John Legend, and nearly cheered when she unwittingly did me a massive favor and paired up with one of the few and far between crossovers from reggae into mainstream; none other than party starter Sean Paul.
Naturally, I was drawn to Estelle's accent (I can't be too inconsistent) and silvery voice, but I was also impressed by her versatility. I like to think she has the staying power to make it as an R&B songstress, though its admittedly a genre I know nothing about, and she has enough sass and sex appeal to hold her own against the boys of hip hop. Since all of those qualities in a lady do well over bright reggae rhythms, "Come Over" is an excellent track. On the gentler side, there are definite R&B tones, but the hammock friendly rhythms lend it an air of lovers' rock.
Then, over an already excellent track, and in true reggae MC style, Sean Paul's vocals were laid down after the album version of the track was released, like toasting over a dub original for one of those beach jams perfect in the freakishly warm Los Angeles winter.

Currently, the song is only available on the radio, or on demand at Estelle's Myspace.

Mi Swing Es Tropical (Zeb Reggae Remix feat. Hector "Tempo" Alomar)

This song greeted my ears one cold(ish) morning this week and made me want to take a break from my love of all things gritty and rainy (England) for some pure, unadulterated sunshine. Which is exactly what that track is. I fell in love with the sunny, Puerto Rican flavored sounds of the original when I saw the brilliant, dance inspiring iPod commercial. It was to my delight when I found out that it was by none other than the good folks over at Wonderwheel - Nickodemus and his buddy Quantic, who has a knack for making world beats for white people. The original is stupidly cheerful enough, but the remix, which kicks off a highly enjoyable 10th anniversary CD drove it home for me.
What inevitably happened was that a bunch of talented musicians were listening to music and smoking far too much weed and came up with the brilliant idea of adding some reggae flavor to the already summery beats and somewhere, in a borough in Brooklyn, this solid remix was born. Blissfully ditching the dubby in favor of classic rocksteady reggae beat good enough to stand alone, Zeb manages to make the tune his own, while still maintaining the unfailingly cheerful vibe as well as commercial appeal. The bright horns get muted a bit, and the song takes on a reggae soul vibe with Latin flavor, kind of like what might happen to Fat Freddy's Drop if they went and took a vacation somewhere in Latin America.
I find it's never just about the song - it's about the whole chain reaction of events that lead up to the song and are triggered by the song. In the case of this remix (and with a little help from the release of the new Femi Kuti record), that dormant love of reggae and world music that usually only surfaces when I have the good fortune of traveling and getting away from the city has reawakened. It reminded me that amidst the routine, humdrum and stresses of everyday life there are little things that make you smile and take you away.

In the spirit of passing the cheer (the holidays are upon us after all) I've just published my first iMix with a bunch of reggae tunes to get you through the gloom - enjoy!!


Have a listen to the Zeb remix of "Mi Swing Es Tropical" here.

Slumdog Millionaire - Music from and Inspired by. .

So like a good Danny Boyle fan and like most of the people who saw Slumdog Millionaire I fell in love with this film and its soundtrack. Using A.R. Rahman as a composer was a brilliant move; Rahman got to parody the Bollywood format of music that he's so familiar with, and quite successfully explored the gritty and urban in addition to his classical repertoire.
The other touch of brilliance that some seem to be overlooking however, is the use of M.I.A. The use of her breakthrough single "Paper Planes" caused a knee-jerk reaction to immediately dismiss it as Pineapple Express was released.
And that's fair enough - "Paper Planes" has exploded to a cross genre popularity not heard since Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy." That being said the song was used twice - the original, as well as a chilled out funkafied, 70's style DFA remix, which made me pause and and listen to it with new ears, refreshed by the context. Sure the lyrics talk about weed, but they're just as much about livin' in the streets (which, as a Jewish girl from LA, I'm all about) and a level of materialism that can be found in third world countries and likely among the drug dealing population. If you haven't committed "Paper Planes" to memory, you can read the lyrics for yourself here.
The music from Slumdog Millionaire whet my appetite for more urban India meets London influenced sound that's like a late night drunken kebab with curry sauce. So I started listening to M.I.A. again to try and remember why I liked her in the first place despite the lack of gunshots and registers in her other songs. I found surprising satisfaction in some tracks off of the recent Kala with the boisterous, vaguely garage and old school hip hop influenced "XR2," which makes me want to dig out my gold hoops and wreak havoc on a bus somewhere cold and rainy. The other one that just plain makes me feel just a bit cooler than I actually am is "20 Dollar." It's laid back and rhythmic in a way that nods at the blunt smoking hip hop greats, and is actually a rude-girl interpretation of the Pixies' "Where Is My Mind," which goes to show you just how gangsta I actually am.

If this has inspired you to listen to a lot of MIA, you might also be interested in checking out the weirdly wistful remix of "Boyz" by Brazilian remixers The Twelves.

The sound of November

Ok, so this isn't really one of those official "about one song" blogs. This month, all my writing efforts have been swallowed whole by the monster that is NaNoWrimo. For those who don't know, that's National Novel Writing Month. It's an insane literary journey that saps every bit of creative energy from me in an effort to birth 50,000 words that will eventually be known as genius.

So what does that have to do with music? For me, everything. The entire concept for this novel was born out of two very key songs - the Stanton Warriors remix of Gorillaz "Feel Good, Inc.", and the song "Writer's Block," by Just Jack. "Feel Good, Inc." set the plot, and "Writer's Block," set the tone and main character. I'd go into more detail but I'll likely end up making my novel sound better than it actually is.

I know neither of these are especially new, but there's something that can be said for their inspirational qualities, both lyrically and atmospherically. Rather than trying to write about music, I've been trying to write about the initial impression music makes on me, which is a bit less concrete, and in some ways, a bit more fun.

Regardless, there are a couple songs that have worked their way onto my NaNoWriMo playlists, and thus have been making sneak appearances in the novel so here goes.

Florence and the Machine - "Dog Days are Over"
Florence is from Iceland and is fantastic and weird. Or so I've read, but I personally just think she's fantastic in a non druggy Amy Winehouse meet childlike simplicity of White Stripes kind of way.

Little Boots - "Stuck on Repeat"
Her EP has left me drooling for more. She's currently out on Vice's label in the UK and her EP is being released on IAMSAM recordings - when? Not soon enough. She's sexy and alluring in a Goldfrapp kind of way but with a Madonna-y disco glitz.

And finally, I've been listening to a crapload of (surprise) 80's and 90's UK. So yes, a lot of James and Oasis and New Order. But most importantly, in rediscovering the Gorillaz, I've also rediscovered Blur and gained a new found respect for Damon Albarn. He is the definition of prolific with each of his bands venturing into different genres (Blur - rock genius that was sadly overshadowed with the success of the song that will forever be known as "Woohoo!", the Good, Bad, and the Queen - indie rock, Gorillaz - genre bending trip hop, and now Monkey - Chinese opera??) and each retaining his distinct, vaguely atonal and perpetually angst ridden sound.

Hopefully this should be enough to chew on for the rest of the month until I return fortified, and with more coherent, educated sounding rants in the month of December.