Back in 1978, Konono No. 1-- going under the unabridged name Orchestre Likembé Tout Puissant Konono No. 1 (All-Powerful Likembé Orchestra Konono No. 1)-- was one of four bands recorded for a compilation called Zaire: Musiques Urbaines a Kinshasa. Their contribution, a stunning and absolutely epic 26-minute track called "Mungua-muanga" vividly illustrated the sound we associate them with today. Except nobody had a chance to notice-- the compilation didn't come out until 1985 when Ocora finally released it, by which time the music industry had already constructed its world music ghetto.
It's intriguing to think about what might have happened had that record been released in 1978-- the conditions were so ripe for something like this to catch on. Punk was giving way to post-punk, many of whose exponents incorporated global sounds into their own; punk also lionized the DIY ethos, and there's no band more DIY than Konono No. 1. How many punk bands have made their own microphones out of carved wood and car parts? As it happened, it took all the way until a few years ago for Vincent Kenis of Belgium's venerable Crammed imprint to find the band still hard at work on the streets of Kinshasa, plying their roughly amplified folkloric trance music for the citizens of Congo's bustling capital.
Kenis offered them a chance to record again, and this time, everything happened as it should have the first time: When Western audiences heard the band's whirlwind sound of chanting, scrap-metal percussion, and slightly distorted electric likembé (thumb piano), they were widely embraced as the unique and powerful band they are. Their music, which was never intended to be avant-garde, fit perfectly at the heart of the experimental rock and electronic music scenes without even trying to. Live at Couleur Café captures them at the Belgian festival of the same name and also gets them at their fiery, swirling best.
If you're not already familiar with them from their previous two albums, this is as good a place as any to get acquainted. All but three of the songs are new, and the interplay between the musicians is ultra-tight. The three likembés swarm around each other, deftly working off of bouncing rhythms played on a combination on snare drums and scrap metal. Leader Mawangu Mingiedi, now in his 70s, controls the stage, leading call-and-response chants with the dancers. The show's most climactic moment comes when the storming version of "Mama Liza" thunders to a close, its outro serving as the intro to "Mama Na Bana", an 11-minute flurry of relentless polyrhythms and virtuoso likembé playing.
About the only thing better than listening to this record would be to stand a few feet from the band's gigantic megaphone while they played a show. It's fun enough just to look at the Mad Max assemblage of gear they bring to the stage, but to hear the sound they can make with it really knocks you on your ass. They may have found their global audience a couple decades later than they should have, but Konono No. 1 have nonetheless earned it on the merits of their music.
