First Listen: Sidestepper, 'Supernatural Love'

Sidestepper's new album, Supernatural Love, comes out Feb. 5.
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Sidestepper’s new album, Supernatural Love, comes out Feb. 5. Marica Cardona/Courtesy of the artist hide caption

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It’s hard to keep a good idea down. In 1996, Richard Blair and Sidestepper introduced their innovative mix of Afro-Colombian and pop music to a Colombian scene that was about to explode onto the world stage.

The masterminds behind Bomba Estereo and the rappers in Choc Quib Town have said that Sidestepper’s music opened their minds to the possibilities of ignoring boundaries and mining Afro-Colombian musical traditions. Now, Blair has reassembled Sidestepper for a new album, Supernatural Love, and it’s hardly a nostalgic look back. Instead, it shimmers and percolates with guitars and Afro-Colombian percussion, it’s sung in Spanish and English, it looks forward constantly and, once again, it illuminates a musical path likely to influence the next generation of Colombian innovators.

Sidestepper, ‘Supernatural Love’

Cover for Supernatural Love

Fuego Que Te Llama

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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On The Line

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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Supernatural Love

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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Come See Us Play

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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Magangué

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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Song For The Sinner

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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Lover

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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Hear The Rain Come

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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Celestial

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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Supernatural Soul

  • Artist: Sidestepper
  • From: Supernatural Love
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Our Top Discoveries At globalFEST 2016

One of the many great outfits Astrid Hadad showcased during her performance at globalFEST, at New York City's Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
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    One of the many great outfits Astrid Hadad showcased during her performance at globalFEST, at New York City’s Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
    Ebru Yildiz/NPR
  • Colombia's Afro-Champeta champions Tribu Baharu set off a dance party during their globalFEST performance, at New York City's Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
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    Colombia’s Afro-Champeta champions Tribu Baharu set off a dance party during their globalFEST performance, at New York City’s Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
    Ebru Yildiz/NPR
  • Mariana Sadovska performed a set of theatrical Eastern European folk during globalFEST, at New York City's Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
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    Mariana Sadovska performed a set of theatrical Eastern European folk during globalFEST, at New York City’s Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
    Ebru Yildiz/NPR
  • Fendika is a traditional Ethiopian dance-and music troupe led by Melaku Belay (center), performing during globalFEST at New York City's Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
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    Fendika is a traditional Ethiopian dance-and music troupe led by Melaku Belay (center), performing during globalFEST at New York City’s Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
    Ebru Yildiz/NPR
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    New Orleans-based Debauche specialize in what they describe as “Russian mafia ballads” —their globalFEST performance at New York City’s Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016 was one of the evening’s sweatier moments.
    Ebru Yildiz/NPR
  • Tribu Baharu performs during globalFEST at New York City's Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
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    Tribu Baharu performs during globalFEST at New York City’s Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
    Ebru Yildiz/NPR
  • Haiti's Lakou Mizik, who performed during globalFEST at New York City's Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016, is a multi-generational big-band mixing the island's vodou traditions with communal dance grooves.
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    Haiti’s Lakou Mizik, who performed during globalFEST at New York City’s Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016, is a multi-generational big-band mixing the island’s vodou traditions with communal dance grooves.
    Ebru Yildiz/NPR
  • The men in the Stelios Petrakis Quartet are virtuousos of Crete's musical and dance forms; they performed in Webster Hall's Marlin Room, during globalFEST in New York City on Jan. 17, 2016.
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    The men in the Stelios Petrakis Quartet are virtuousos of Crete’s musical and dance forms; they performed in Webster Hall’s Marlin Room, during globalFEST in New York City on Jan. 17, 2016.
    Ebru Yildiz/NPR
  • London's troupe of bhangra drummers, The Dhol Foundation, performs during globalFEST at New York City's Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
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    London’s troupe of bhangra drummers, The Dhol Foundation, performs during globalFEST at New York City’s Webster Hall on Jan. 17, 2016.
    Ebru Yildiz/NPR

On Sunday, Jan. 17, globalFEST, one of America’s premiere showcases of musical talent from around the world, once again took over the three stages at Manhattan’s Webster Hall. The one-evening festival has few American rivals in the way it simultaneously expands and condenses musical perspectives. The performances here move naturally between those that are heady and thought-provoking and those that are rhythmically sumptuous and sweat-inducing. Sometimes the shift from, say, Eastern European folk theater to Afro-Caribbean party music to Parisian electro-swing to Bhangra drums creates deep, wonderful contexts about the world we live in; at others, it is jarring. Which is what makes the whole thing such a hoot.

To discuss the evening’s performances and insights, All Songs Considered host Bob Boilen is joined by NPR Music’s Piotr Orlov, NPR contributor and Afropop.org senior editor Banning Eyre and Rob Weisberg of WQXR (who also hosts WFMU’s Transpacific Sound Paradise). In this week’s podcast, above, they revisit some of the highlights and favorite discoveries from this year’s globalFEST.

You can also listen to some spotlight performances from Webster Hall, featured below.

Our Top Discoveries At globalFEST 2016

Music Maker Blues Revue.

Music Maker Blues Revue. Ebru Yildiz for NPR hide caption

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Music Maker Blues Revue feat. Robert Lee Coleman

  • Song: Country Women

An essential part of the Hillsborough, N.C.-based non-profit, Music Maker Relief Foundation, which assists lesser known aging artists who made huge contributions to American musical traditions and have fallen on hard times, Music Maker Blues Revue is a rotating cast of soul and blues ringers. Robert Lee Coleman was long-time guitarist for Percy Sledge and a one-time member of the JB’s. –Piotr Orlov

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Somi.

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Somi

  • Song: Ankara Sundays

Somi grew up the American Midwest as the child of East African parents, and her maverick career as a vocalist and composer can be seen as a quest to resolve her own complex identity. A superb jazz singer, Somi has lived in various parts of Africa and creates an elegant and highly individualized amalgam of the musics she has loved and the bi-continental experiences that have shaped her life. —Banning Eyre

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Fendika.

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Fendika

  • Song: Oromiya

Led by the dancer Melaku Belay, Ethiopia’s Fendika is a small music+dance group performing traditional Azmari music, most often at the Addis Ababa club/house of culture where Belay is also an artistic director. The amplified instrumentation featuring the krar (a five- and six-string lute) and the muted kebero drums creates a raw modern, rocked-up sound from time-honored roots. —Piotr Orlov

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Astrid Hadad.

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Astrid Hadad

  • Song: El Ombligo De La Luna (The Moon Belly Button)

A star in Mexico, Astrid Hadad is a product of Mexico City’s lively cabaret scene. Since breaking through in a 1985 production called Donna Giovanni, an all-female adaptation of Mozart’s opera, she became famous for her own satirical musical-theater shows spoofing Mexican and global culture high and low, She’s known for her extravagant and bizarre costumes, but also uses satire to make cutting socio-political points. —Rob Weisberg

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Mariana Sadovska.

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Mariana Sadovska

  • Song: Spell

Mariana Sadovska is a charismatic and adventurous musical and theatrical performer. She began her career in avant garde theater, but also traveled across Ukraine, her home country, to learn songs from village women. She combines these influences and uses an array of traditional and non-traditional vocal techniques to create some of the most distinctive interpretations of traditional song you’ll hear anywhere. —Rob Weisberg

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Stelios Petrakis Quartet.

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Stelios Petrakis Quartet

  • Song: Pare Me Nyhta

Stelios Petrakis, virtuosic lyra (fiddle) player and composer from Crete is a leading figure in the lively Greek roots music scene who also branches out through cross-cultural collaborations with musicians from around the world. He formed the Cretan music quartet to spotlight both the traditional songs and dances of his home island as well as his own compositions inspired by tradition. —Rob Weisberg

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Simon Shaheen.

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Simon Shaheen

  • Song: Sidi Mansour (My Grandpa Mansour)

Simon Shaheen may be the greatest musical ambassador from the wide world of Arabic music to the U.S. His new ensemble Zafir combines Middle Eastern and North African art music with flamenco and original compositions rich with spontaneity and improvisation. —Banning Eyre

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Lakou Mizik.

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Lakou Mizik

  • Song: Bon Tan (Good Times)

Lakou Mizik is a multi-generational big-band from the Haitian capital of Port-Au-Prince, created in the wake of the devastating 2010 earthquake in order to uphold the island’s social roots music. The sound of Vodou drummers, Rara horns and an accordionist blend into a soulful and party-oriented rasin experience, an Afro-Soca Carnival vibe of the highest order. –Piotr Orlov

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Songs We Love: Tribu Baharú, 'Made in Tribu Baharú'

Tribu Baharú
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Tribu Baharú, Pa'l Más Exigente Bailador (Tambora 2015)

Tribu Baharú, Pa’l Más Exigente Bailador (Tambora 2015) courtesy of the label hide caption

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There are very few guarantees in life. But one of them must — must! — be that as soon as you hear “Made in Tribu Baharú,” you’ll start moving. (I promise.) It’s a song from Tribu Baharú, a band from Bogotá, Colombia — and the sextet’s high-energy, abundantly joyful calls to the dance floor belie a complicated history.

Tribu Baharú’s musical style, called champeta, originated as a type of folk music within communities of African descent along Colombia’s Caribbean coast. Not acknowledging their country’s African heritage and its history in the slave trade, many people in Colombia looked down on the sounds of champeta and the people it represented. (In fact, there are reportedly still people who would like to try to squelch champeta; these days, the charge is that it encourages teen pregnancy.)

In the 1970s and ’80s, traveling West African sailors docking in ports like Cartagena and Barranquilla carried along LPs of Congolese soukous as well as Ghanaian and Nigerian highlife bands. Colombian artists began soaking up the lilting guitars and big, jazzy harmonies, and all those influences started commingling in the “picó” (sound system) culture of Colombia’s ports. That is how a modern, dazzlingly energetic and decidedly African champeta was born.

Tribu Baharú is a band of champeta champions, who turn that melange of influences into an incredibly fun live show. The first time I saw this group live was in Spain in 2014; that night, they turned a crowd of spectators into a solid mass of sweaty dancers. If you are in New York City, you can have your own turn this coming Sunday night, when Tribu Baharú appear at the annual showcase — summit, really — of musical talents from around the world: globalFEST.

Tribu Baharú’s album Pa’l Más Exigente Bailador is out now on Tambora.

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Eva Salina's Love For Balkan Music Is Lifelong — And Accidental

Eva Salina's new album is called Lema Lema: Eva Salina Sings Saban Bajramovic.
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Eva Salina’s new album is called Lema Lema: Eva Salina Sings Saban Bajramovic. Deborah Feingold/Courtesy of the artist hide caption

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Eva Salina has Dutch and Jewish roots and hails from a quiet California beach town — but musically, she’s traveled a path far afield from her upbringing. The Santa Cruz native says she was headed in quite a different direction when she stumbled into a love for traditional Balkan vocal music.

“I was interested, always, in other cultures, and someone gave me a tape of some Yiddish songs,” she says. “I was 7 years old, and I taught myself all of those songs. My parents, in their desire to encourage my interest, looked around for someone who might be able to teach me, and when the search for a Yiddish singing teacher came up dry, they stumbled upon a young woman who grew up in Hawaii and had been singing Balkan music for 15 years at that point.”

Salina grew up into a modern interpreter of Balkan styles. Her new album, Lema Lema: Eva Salina Sings Saban Bajramovic, pays tribute to a late musician whose story is shrouded in mystery and urban legend. She joined NPR’s Rachel Martin to talk about it; hear more of their conversation at the audio link.

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60 Years Later, A Wild, Baffling Recording Finds A Modern Spark

The Brothers Nazaroff is five klezmer musicians from three continents, brought together by a love of the curious 1954 recording Jewish Freilach Songs.
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The Brothers Nazaroff is five klezmer musicians from three continents, brought together by a love of the curious 1954 recording Jewish Freilach Songs. Fumie Suzuki hide caption

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Playing Yiddish music in public was once so common among Jewish immigrants who lived near the beaches in New York and Los Angeles that it came to be known as “boardwalk music.” That’s where I found The Brothers Nazaroff: on the boardwalk at Coney Island, being filmed by a Hungarian director making a documentary about the klezmer group.

“Not everybody loves this, you know?” says the band’s accordion player, Daniel Kahn. “And I don’t expect everybody to love it. This is for people who are willing to have a good time, people who understand it’s subversive to be joyous in public.”

That’s an understandable attitude when you consider the band’s namesake. In 1954, Folkways Records released an album by a mysterious man known as “Prince” Nazaroff. The 10-inch Jewish Freilach Songs sold so poorly that to date, the royalties total less than a thousand dollars. And yet, the recording has inspired several generations of musicians and writers since then.

The cover of the original Jewish Freilach Songs.

The cover of the original Jewish Freilach Songs. Folkways Records hide caption

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The Brothers Nazaroff are remaking the disc with a tribute release called The Happy Prince — though the group, which comprises klezmer musicians from three continents, is a lot more polished than their inspiration. Michael Wex, author of the best-selling book Born to Kvetch: Yiddish Language and Culture in All Its Moods, says he was taken aback when when he heard the original 1954 recording.

“My my initial reaction to it was, ‘How the hell did this get recorded?'” he says. “It sounds like the Yiddish-speaking janitor and a bunch of his friends at Folkways broke in one night, and just sort of seized the equipment and started playing songs.”

Wex points out that Folkways Records head Moe Asch was the son of Sholem Asch, the most important Yiddish writer in America in the early 20th Century — so he was certainly plugged in to the Yiddish arts scene. But he thinks there may be another reason Asch put out the Nazaroff 10-inch.

“The Nazaroff stuff was recorded right after Asch had released Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music,” he says. “It’s almost as if Asch wanted to do a kind of Yiddish pendant to Harry Smith’s anthology.”

Bob Cohen, the Budapest-based mandolinist of The Brothers Nazaroff, concurs: “It was a fluke that he was recorded. People recorded what would elevate the culture. They didn’t record what Jewish drunks did in the back room of a bar. But why were we in the back room of a bar?”

Because that’s where this music was often played: in Yiddish bars. Daniel Kahn says his bandmates think of Prince Nazaroff as the wild grandfather they never met.

“His mandolin, it’s out of tune. The accordion’s out of tune. But nobody cares — they’re just playing as hard and as wild as possible,” Kahn says. “The way he spits out his Yiddish lyrics has a kind of raw energy. Frankly, it’s the same raw energy that I hear in early punk rock.”

Prince Nazaroff’s sole album of Yiddish music has brought together some of the biggest names in klezmer music today. In addition to Cohen and Kahn, The Brothers Nazaroff includes the fiddler Jake Shulman-Ment, Russian singer Psoy Korolenko and vocalist and guitarist Michael Alpert, who was named an NEA National Heritage Fellow this year.

[embedded content]
YouTube

But as exuberant as the music is, many of the details of Prince Nazaroff’s life remain less clear. We do know that he was born in Russia in 1892, and that a man named Nicholas Nazaroff is listed in U.S. census records as having two children — but Kahn says no one in the band has been able to track them down.

“We have yet to hear from any of his relatives, nor have the people at Smithsonian,” Kahn says. “He was buried in countless bargain record crates at the back room of many used record stores. That’s the only grave of his that we know of.”

But Kahn and the rest of the Brothers Nazaroff have managed a kind of closure: Their new CD is out on the same label that released their namesake’s vinyl record more than 60 years ago.

Jon Kalish is a New York-based reporter and writer.

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Songs We Love: Tokyo Black Star, 'Mitokomon'

Tokyo Black Star.

Mitokomon

8:32

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Edo Express EP (World Famous)

Courtesy of the artist

Though he possesses an unquestioned pedigree in straight-ahead house and techno circles, Alex Prat (a.k.a. Alex From Tokyo, co-founder of Tokyo Black Star) is a musical nomad who looks to reveal his wandering spirit at every turn. That’s the vibe at the heart of “Mitokomon,” the globally curious opening track from the Edo Express EP, the group’s first new release in years. Prat recorded it with his Tokyo Black Star partner, engineer Isao Kumano, and modular-synthesizer operator Kenichi Takagi; together, they explore the sounds and rhythms of far-off lands at a studio in the heart of Japan’s capital.

“Mitokomon” centers on the analog synth and rudimentary drum-machine textures of 1970s West African musicians (and budding technologists) such as Francis Bebey and William Onyeabor, whose recently rescued sounds once pointed to the future and now paint a nostalgic, acoustically warm picture of globalization. Amid the twin layers of polyrhythmic percussion, as well as keyboards and a guitar that root the track in a quasi-reggae skank, lies an elongated, repeating synthesizer line of ambient panoramic beauty. Transpose that line to outlier orchestral timbres, then play it behind 70mm scenes of a rider in the desert, and you could mistake this music for a classic Ennio Morricone “Spaghetti Western” score (another era’s global-culture mashup). When all the melodic elements finally drop off, what’s left sounds uncannily like the skeletal beat to Strafe’s 1984 electro classic “Set It Off,” at which point Prat’s original pedigree comes into focus once again.

Edo Express EP is out now on World Famous.

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With No Museum, Thousands Of Mexican Instruments Pile Into This Apartment

Guillermo Contreras strums the five-string guitarra de golpe.
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Guillermo Contreras strums the five-string guitarra de golpe. Courtesy of Betto Arcos hide caption

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There’s a place in Mexico City that’s filled with thousands of musical instruments from all over Latin America — some of them more than 100 years old. It’s not a museum or music school. It’s an apartment. Actually, the collection’s grown so much, it now fills two apartments. It’s the result of a lifelong passion for the instruments and their history, as well as a determination to share them.

Guillermo Contreras is a brawny 63-year-old with gray hair and a beard, wearing blue jeans and a black dress shirt, but when he opens the door, you barely notice him. There are instruments everywhere. It’s more than any museum collection I’ve ever seen.

“No, I’ve filled one museum with 300 pieces,” Contreras says. “I can tell you, there are more than 4,000 instruments here.”

He’s got Jaranas, vihuelas, guitarrones, bajo quintos — all Mexican offspring of the Spanish guitar, which was brought here during the colonial period. There are also violins and harps of every size, marimbas, dozens of percussion instruments, and wind instruments of every shape, length and sound.

He pulls out a reed flute and says it was played by the Aztecs. The instrument is still played in a region of northeastern Mexico.

Contreras was an architect by profession when he traveled to a small town south of Mexico City in the late 1960s. He met a group of old musicians, some born in the late 1800s, who were playing instruments from that period.?

“They thought it was amusing that a guy from the city would visit them and have so much interest in their music, which was sort of dying,” Contreras says. “Many of them wanted to give me their 10-string guitars, and I couldn’t take that away from the family.”

Jaranas, psalteries and other instruments in Guillermo Contreras' apartment.

Jaranas, psalteries and other instruments in Guillermo Contreras’ apartment. Courtesy of Betto Arcos hide caption

toggle caption Courtesy of Betto Arcos

A few months later, he went back and found that some of the musicians had died. He asked their families about the centuries-old instruments — and says he was stunned by what he heard.

“An instrument from the 19th century, already destroyed, had been turned into a chicken feeder; another one became a little kid’s wooden horse.”

Contreras decided then and there that he would dedicate his life to documenting and preserving his country’s musical heritage.

Contreras is not just an instrument collector. He also knows each instrument’s individual history and how to play it. He pulls out a guitarra séptima, a 14-string guitar that was widely played across Mexico in the 19th century. Next, he demonstrates how to play a five-string guitarra de golpe, a strumming guitar still played in the state of Guerrero.

Contreras walks the walk, says Graco Posadas, director of programming at the CENART, the National Center of the Arts in Mexico City.

“Every time you ask him about the music,” Posadas says, “he’ll tell you he’s already been to the mountains, he’s already walked the kilometers, and he’s the only one that’s dedicated time to preserve those instruments, some of which have disappeared, unless he has them, and from every region in Mexico.”

In addition to the instruments, Guillermo Contreras has also amassed a large collection of field recordings, old photos and music publications dating back hundreds of years. He spends 16 hours a week sharing what he knows.

Everything to keep a beat.

Everything to keep a beat. Courtesy of Betto Arcos hide caption

toggle caption Courtesy of Betto Arcos

In a small classroom at the National School of Music, three students tap small turtle-shell drums with deer horns as Contreras plays a small bamboo flute. It’s the same melody that’s been played by Zapotec people of Oaxaca for hundreds of years. One of the students is Dalila Franco. She’s been studying music with Contreras for about a year.

“These rhythms, these melodic patterns, are calling us Mexicans; they’re telling us who we are, even if we don’t understand what they’re trying to tell us,” Franco says. “So the School of Music offers two tracks: the Western approach we inherited from Europe, where we learn the music of Beethoven, Mozart and Bach. But there’s also this other one that has a lot to do with our identity.”

For more than four decades, Guillermo Contreras has been a mentor and teacher to dozens of young musicians. He’s tried to get funding to build a museum and a music school, without success. But he keeps collecting and teaching because, he says, these instruments and their history are precious reminders of our humanity.

“I feel that this helps me understand a little bit more about life, as seen through the art of music and the musical instrument, which I believe are the most precious creations of humanity.”

With or without a museum, Contreras says that’s reason enough to continue collecting them, though he says he’s a little worried about finding space for more.

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In Exile, Burundian Musicians Create Out Of Crisis

The members of Melodika live in a group house together in Kigali, Rwanda. Percussionist Omer Nzoyisaba is far left, with singer Christian Ninteretse third from the left.

The members of Melodika live in a group house together in Kigali, Rwanda. Percussionist Omer Nzoyisaba is far left, with singer Christian Ninteretse third from the left. Michael May/NPR hide caption

toggle caption Michael May/NPR

Political violence has engulfed the African nation of Burundi. The U.N. Security Council has passed a resolution to try and prevent potential genocide, while refugees have been pouring into neighboring Rwanda. Among them is a group of musicians who fled their homes without any instruments.

Bertrand Ninteretse is a Burundian video artist and rapper who goes by the name Kaya Free. In April, he videotaped the death of a fellow protester shot by Burundian police. The protests were targeting the president, Pierre Nkurunziza, who’d defied the constitution and seized a third term in office. Since then, Nkurunziza’s police and party militias have cracked down on anyone seen as anti-government. In this country of only six million, more than 200,000 have fled. Kaya says he had to flee because he was on a police hit list.

When he reached the Rwandan capital of Kigali, he grabbed his smartphone and started tracking down his friends.

“Now we have Whatsapp, we have Facebook,” Kaya says. “We can write, ‘Hey, I’m in Kigali. Hey, we have a big house — even you can stay here.’ ‘Oh, really, Kaya! Okay, we come.'”

Kaya and his wife found themselves hosting Burundian musicians, each a star in his genre: jazz, reggae, traditional Burundian folk. Only they now had no instruments, no money, no chairs, even. They did have plastic pots and pans, as well as beer bottles.

Onstage, Melodika borrows guitars and drums, but at home, Pascal Niyonzima (left) practices on plastic tubs.

Onstage, Melodika borrows guitars and drums, but at home, Pascal Niyonzima (left) practices on plastic tubs. Michael May/NPR hide caption

toggle caption Michael May/NPR

Back in Burundi, these musicians would not have shared the same stage. Now, in this living-room jam, over this traditional rhythm rose the voice of an R&B singer — actually the winner of Prix-Music, which is like the Burundian version of American Idol.

“It was like a dream,” Kaya says. “For me, it was amazing. To see jazz people, traditional people, the winner of Prix-Music — they are together to sing songs.”

In a different house, still without chairs and instruments, percussionist Omer Nzoyisaba says this new group “was about our voices only.” He used to play traditional music at weddings. Next to him is a bassist accustomed to playing in nightclubs and a guitarist who performed in international hotels.

R&B singer Christian Ninteretse says the band, called Melodika, was created so they could eat. But it’s become something more.

“You were just friends,” Ninteretse tells his bandmates, “but because of the problems, you became family.”

Melodika now performs around Rwanda using borrowed guitars and drums. But back home, it’s just kitchen supplies and voices. The members refused to talk politics, but they said their message is one of unity. Ethnic unity. Regional unity. That’s why their playlist can follow an urban love song with a traditional homesick lament called “Yes, Mama.”

They pray, like so many exiles, for a chance to return home. They also hope to continue this journey, and to collect funds to make an album and travel the world with their music.

This is Burundi’s new sound, they say, with the confidence of stars. It’s just one that took a crisis to create.

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Latitudes: 10 Favorite Global Music Picks From 2015

Ibeyi: Lisa-Kaindé Diaz and Naomi Diaz.

Ibeyi: Lisa-Kaindé Diaz and Naomi Diaz. Courtesy of the artists hide caption

toggle caption Courtesy of the artists

2015 was a year in which global music (whatever that term does or doesn’t mean) overlapped even more than usual with other genres — and the results were dazzling.

Much of that broadening has evolved organically. Some of the “roots” artists I’ve selected for this year-end list, like Islam Chipsy and EEK, aren’t keeping tradition trapped in amber: unyielding, unchanging or stagnating. Instead, they’re using modern production gear and styles, the natural tools of 21st-century artists worldwide.

Other projects are more intentionally cross-fertilized, like the Africa Express rendering of an iconic piece of modern Western music, Terry Riley’s In C. Still others, such as the French-Cuban duo Ibeyi and Four Tet’s Morning/Evening album, are ones I heard alongside my friends at Alt.Latino and Recommended Dose, and could exist comfortably on many genre-focused year-end lists.

During a year that frankly could have used as much musical uplift as possible, these artists and their creative output, albums and singles and videos alike, affirmed the power of artistic connection — human connection — for me. I hope they do the same for you.


Ibeyi: ‘Ibeyi’

I’ve probably talked and written about the French-Cuban twin duo Ibeyi more than any other newcomers, first when their EP arrived in 2014, and then again when they released their eponymous debut this year. The sound sisters Lisa-Kaindé Diaz and Naomi Diaz have is simply intoxicating: a mix of deep soul, electronics and shades of jazz and hip-hop planted in Afro-Cuban ground, layers of their voices, piano, cajón, batá, synths and samples.

Ibeyi frames their mostly English (and occasionally French) lyrics with Yoruba chants. Their self-identity is enveloped in the Afro-Cuban santeria tradition they inherited from their father, renowned Cuban percussionist Miguel “Angá” Díaz. Even the duo’s name is steeped in Yoruba meaning; “ibeji” means “twins” — and twins are both astoundingly common in West Africa and especially prized in Yoruba culture. From the big, thudding beats of “River” and the ecstasies of “Oya” to the sinking, strange harmonies of “Think of You” and the tender “Yanira,” this is a remarkable album from a pair of old souls.

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Ibeyi YouTube

Islam Chipsy & EEK: ‘Trinity’

A couple of years ago, Syrian wedding singer Omar Souleyman became a darling of the American and European tastemaking circuit. But I always thought the real genius in Souleyman’s band was his largely unheralded keyboardist, Rizan Sa’id. The keyboard takes front and center in Egypt with Cairo’s Islam Chipsy and his trio EEK, who released their debut studio album, Kahraba (Electricity), this year. With drummers Khaled Mando and Islam Tata, Islam Chipsy creates a solid wall of frenzied, psychedelic, distorted sound underpinned by insistent electro-chaabi beats. EEK’s music is all instrumental, but it will definitely make you want to sing, shout — and for sure dance.

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Sakanaction: ‘Shin Takarajima’ (New Treasure Island)

When I needed a boost over the last few months, one tune I immediately turned to was a bright and bubbly earworm from Japan. The group is Sakanaction, a Japanese art-rock band from Sapporo. Their single “Shin Takarajima” (New Treasure Island) is the theme for the movie Bakuman, which in turn is based on the Bakuman manga series.

Along with the super-hooky song, I love the visual style of Sakanaction’s video — especially the band’s unperturbable, gray-swathed deadpan in the midst of a squad of sunny cheerleaders.


Sam Lee: ‘The Fade In Time’

When British singer and song collector Sam Lee and his band performed at our Tiny Desk this summer, more than one NPR Music staffer was in tears. The arrangements that appear on The Fade In Time are fabulously imaginative and sophisticated, between the warm instrumentals (ranging from trumpet and cello to the Indian sruti box and a Japanese koto) and cleverly interlayed archival folk recordings. They form a gorgeous frame for Lee’s voice and underline his undeniable passion for keeping old songs from England, Ireland and Scotland alive, particularly those from “outsiders” like the Roma and the Scottish and Irish Travelers. With songs like the rolling “Johnny O’the Brine,” the haunting war ballad “Bonny Bunch of Roses” and the achingly lovely “Blackbird” beaded like gems on a necklace, I’ve played this brilliant album countless times already. You will, too.

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Sam Lee YouTube

Xaos: ‘Xaos’

To be Greek means to be part of a people whose collective identity seems to exist, for better or worse, in several historical epochs simultaneously, from the ancients to the Byzantines and onward into the present. This is an idea that recurs in the work of some of our greatest poets and authors, but it’s a hard idea to translate into music. Yet it’s what I thought of immediately upon first hearing this moody and gorgeous album. It’s the first release from the duo Xaos (pronounced “HAH-ohs,” it translates to “chaos”). It is a collaboration between Ahetas, an electronic music composer, keyboardist and painter born in Australia and raised in Greece, and Dubulah, a German-born producer and artist of Greek-English parentage whose collaborators have included Dub Colossus and Samuel Yirga.

On each track, they carefully build layers of swirling sonics, referencing many points in the Greek experience with instruments like the Pontic lyra (a three-stringed, bowed lute) and the delicate kanonaki zither blended with modern electronics. But you don’t have to think about such cultural specificities — just let yourself sink deep, deep down into the wine-dark sea of sound.

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Xaos YouTube

Africa Express: Terry Riley, ‘In C’

Terry Riley‘s iconic In C, originally composed in 1964, is an infinitely malleable feast of sound: It’s a piece playable by any group of musicians for as long as they desire. Here, it travels to West Africa through instruments like the ngoni lute, the xylophone-like balafon and the kora, a cousin of the harp along with guitar, melodica and vocals. Their ranks include such English and American heavy hitters as Brian Eno, Damon Albarn and Nick Zinner of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Earlier this year, Riley told me that this conception of In C was incredibly creative, and “treated so freely that you see it as a whole new piece.” What higher compliment could there be for this fresh-sounding, absolutely transporting 41-minute ride?

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Tate YouTube

Four Tet: ‘Morning’

One of the smartest cross-genre outings this year came via British producer Four Tet (a.k.a. Kieran Hebden) and his two-song Morning/Evening album. The sample for “Morning” is the divine Lata Mangeshkar singing a classic 1983 Bollywood film number, “Main Teri Chhoti Behana Hoon.” It’s a dramatic, sad song, but here Four Tet lifts it into a contemplative realm with layers of synths and, believe it or not, kick-drum. The overall — and quite stunning — effect is of a dreamy alaap coming and going in gentle waves of sound. In the tradition of Indian classical music ragas that are meant to be played at specific times of day and night, the other half of Four Tet’s album flips to an atmospheric evening mood.

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Mbongwana Star: ‘From Kinshasa’

Another sublimely genre-thrashing album this year was also a debut, Mbongwana Star‘s first album, From Kinshasa. The band (whose name includes the Lingala word for “change”) is helmed by Yakala “Coco” Ngambali and Nsituvuidi “Théo” Nzonza, two former members of the inventive Staff Benda Bilili, a group that unfortunately imploded acrimoniously a couple of years ago. Working alongside Irish-French producer Doctor L (a.k.a. Liam Farrell), the band splits open expectations of the “sound of Africa.” Rather, they take traditional Congolese dance-band music and shoot it straight into some future sound. They filter elements of electronica, post-punk and funk through a scrim of modern production, layering in distortion, reverb and metallic percussion.

For one of the tracks, “Malukayi,” Mbongwana Star is joined by the coolly funky Konono No. 1, with a video that conjures up the fantastical world of a Congolese young man, dressed as an astronaut, ambling through the thrumming streets of Kinshasa. This is densely layered dance music for the alienated, floating out in space.

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World Circuit Records YouTube

Saad Lamjarred: ‘Lm3allem’ (Boss)

Who’s rivaling Drake for video views right now? How about Moroccan pop superstar and actor Saad Lamjarred, whose spring single “Lm3allem” (“Teacher,” or as Lamjarred’s team translates it, “Boss”) continues its hold on YouTube.

The son of singer Bachir Abdou and actress Nezha Regragui, Lamjarred offers an eye-poppingly fresh video that matches the stylistically polyglot electro/Arab pop/hip-hop track. While the Moroccan-born, U.K.-based artist Hassan Hajjaj is credited just as the video’s costume designer, his thematic preoccupations dominate the look of “Lm3allem,” starting with those young women on motorbikes.

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Saad Lamjarred YouTube

A-WA: ‘Habib Galbi’ (Love Of My Heart)

Imagine the band Haim meeting the late Ofra Haza, with some EDM thrown in for good measure. That’s the wave the fast-rising Israeli sister act A-WA — Tair, Liron and Tagel Haim — rides. They pull inspiration from their Yemeni Jewish roots, as well as exploring commonalities with their Arab neighbors, including language; the band usually sings in Yemeni Arabic.

Produced by Tomer Yosef, whose band Balkan Beat Box provided the hooky sample for the Jason Derulo hit “Talk Dirty,” A-WA cheekily pairs old and new both sonically and visually, as you’ll see in the video for their song “Habib Galbi” (Love of My Heart), filmed near their home village in the barren desert of Israel’s far south. Check out the tasselled snapbacks on their track-suited dancing friends — caps that manage to reference both hip-hop and traditional tarboosh hats, a.k.a. fezzes. And consider this song a warm-up — the trio is planning a U.S. tour for spring 2016.

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A-WA YouTube

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Songs We Love: Rusangano Family, 'Heathrow'

Rusangano Family.
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Rusangano Family. Courtesy of the artist hide caption

toggle caption Courtesy of the artist

"Heathrow" art.

Courtesy of the artist

“When I see Police I’m Amadou Diallo/ Haunted by the bodies Sahara swallowed/ Did I flee Lampedusa to die over you? ” asks the Togolese MC, MuRli on “Heathrow,’ by the Limerick, Ireland-based trio, Rusangano Family. The song is a mix of immigrant emotions from a first-person perspective that’s as personal as it political. It’s about small stories and big narratives more than facts and figures; the xenophobia, racism and gaze of Empire may be secondary but they’re ever-present as MuRli worries about things both existential and tangible. He’s an African in Ireland “looking out of place like Columbus did” and wishing to talk to “a local girl I met in a Pizza Hut,” but “I’m on 20 euros a week and my pocket is weak so no cash in my strategy.” There’s no distinction between his right to survival and his desire for a crush—all aspects of his life are marked by struggle and threatened with violence.

Where the London airport of the song-title fits into this scenario is never delineated, but it’s made clear when Zimbabwean MC God Knows raps, “Took off in Lagos/ And only Europe can save us.” Heathrow is about hope deferred, and “Heathrow” is about assimilation (“Depressed under pressure of making decisions/ To change my feathers and flock with the others”), being seen and not heard (“Silence in customs/ Just prayers in the bathrooms/ Black cleaners in staff rooms”), homesickness (“I’m living on fish and chips but deep inside I’m craving fetri“) and “asylum seekers, sugar daddies in slippers, spooning Nubian grim reapers.”

Everything here is piercing and impressionistic, down to producer mynameisjOhn’s hi-hat happy soundtrack that’s full of siren synths and imposing guitar twangs. The music sounds like the suffocating rush of determination and apprehension at a militarized checkpoint. mynameisjOhn is the group’s lone member of Irish heritage, and his contributions here are as pivotal as those of the MC’s. (Last year, mynameisjOhn also produced the bulk of MuRli’s debut EP, Surface Tension, and released, Rusangano / Family, a full length with God Knows, which featured appearances by MuRli, before the three formed into Rusangano Family.) God Knows and MuRli’s observations are full of the resilience of shattered dreams; mynameisjOhn’s backdrop sounds like the boots doing the shattering. It’s a timely combination that tries to makes sense of heady issue by focusing on the human aspects of migration. We may not know why MuRli fled to and from Lampedusa, an Italian island off the coast of Tunisia that’s become a European landing base for refugees leaving North Africa; but listening to “Heathrow” we know that—like many immigrants before and after— he still seeks a home that continues to be elusive.

Rusangano Family’s album, Let The Dead Bury The Dead is due for release in early 2016. ?

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