The laser-gun-like, pitch-modulating burst of the electronic tom is a cartoonish staple of 1980s music, cropping up everywhere from Duran Duran’s chart-toppers to Prince’s melodramatic rock and even Herbie Hancock’s jazz fusion. Their punctuating fills serve as a constant reminder of the era’s kitsch futurism and one setting in which they find their ideal expression is in the work of Ivory Coast singer and percussionist Antoinette Konan. Konan’s eponymous 1986 international debut is a kaleidoscopic jumble of drums – the electric, the acoustic and, crucially, the ahoko. A ribbed wooden stick with a hollowed-out shell to rub along it, the minimalist instrument is a staple of the indigenous Baoulé people of the Ivory Coast and its playing is an integral feature of Konan’s album, now reissued. Konan’s record may be rooted in the 80s but it is thoroughly modern, transplanting the traditional carnivalesque devotional songs of the Baoulé to an emerging sacred space of the era: the dancefloor. In mixing the “western” electronic sounds of drum samplers, synthesisers and twanging bass with Baoulé vocals and the ever-present thrumming of the ahoko, Konan’s record made her music a crate-digger’s must-have for the club. Among the current glut of reissues, this re-pressing sounds remarkably fresh. While downbeat numbers such as Enfants Du Monde and Evignen are dragged down by their somewhat syrupy sweetness, the short and sharp kinetic tracks are irresistible. Opener Kokoloko Tani buzzes in with those inimitable toms and a selection of Baoulé tuned bells set to Konan’s tenor, while Abidjan Adja and M’ackô are polyrhythmic gems of mid-tempo movement, a new jack swing of Africa’s west coast. Konan produced the entire record and her singular vision shows on its speedy 25-minute runtime. It is a near-perfect combination of tradition and modernism to create an imagining of a future sound, one which can only ever have existed in Konan’s hands some 33 years ago. The reissue of the 1991 debut of all-female a capella group Zap Mama, Adventures In Afropea, serves as a heart-rending reminder of the history of European blackness amid our current removal from the continent. Comprised of Congolese pop, gospel and medieval chanting, Zap Mama’s sound is an enveloping and deeply soulful testament to cultural exchange. Yemeni band El Khat deconstruct traditional folk songs into a gritty, guitar-fuelled collection of incisive statements on Saadia Jefferson, with highlights including the band’s use of junk instruments to provide a clattering foundation to tracks Atabina and Ya Raiyat. Ghanaian gospel singer Alogte Oho also releases his debut international album Mam Yinne Wa, a remarkable mix of dubby reggae, the choral music of his Frafra people and horn-laden funk – a sun-drenched, joyous listen.