Just when I start gloating about afrobeat legend Fela Kuti's influence permeating the underground, what should find its way through my mail slot but the new Antibalas LP? Let it be known: the American afrobeat awakening is in full effect. [Much rejoicing ensues.]
All year, Fela-inspired ensembles have been rocking dancefloors and picking fights with nervous Republicans across the country. Antibalas, of course, predates them all, having staked their claim to Fela's dynasty back in 2001 with their Ninja Tune debut, Liberation Afrobeat Vol. 1. That release beautifully conveyed Fela's bravado and bluster, even while the band was yet unable to evoke his humor, intimacy and personality. Of course, while I was thrilled to hear a new multi-culti spin on the Nigerian afrobeat legacy, I couldn't shake my disappointment at the record's lack of focus, or its departure from Fela's tried-and-true blueprint.
But, never daunted, Antibalas regrouped to drop the bomb the world was waiting for: Their 2002 follow-up Talkatif lightened their sound with sharper songwriting, including some truly memorable melodies (no mean feat within afrobeat's syncopated firestorm) that popped with addition of bright major chords, Afro-Latin rhythms, briefer track lengths, and more compelling lyrical fomentations from Duke Amayo. Now arrives the third installment of the Antibalas handbook for global empowerment, Who Is This America?, which, in the midst of the current trickle-up afrobeat revival, has Antibalas bringing a more galvanized and urgent righteous noise than ever before, and proving they lead the pack when it comes to the re-imagining and recreating of Fela's archetypal artform.
If you're familiar with afrobeat, you'll have a basic grasp of this record's sound: Clean, staccato guitars and conga 'n' snare breakbeats are quickly avalanched by monstrous horn sections, shakere counter-rhythms, and kinky clavinets. Opener "Who Is This America Dem Speak Of?" enters with several minutes of polyrhythmic pyrotechnics, before Amayo finally busts in with a scathingly ironic vocal introduction, kicking the album into a high gear it never shifts back down from. At 12 minutes, it's one of the longer tracks in the group's repertoire, though a peek at the runtimes reveals that America contains two even lengthier tracks, one of which nears the 20-minute mark. Indeed, where Antibalas' previous works were abridged for accessibility, here they've clearly become more comfortable with their staying power, and more confident with their voice.
While Fela was a master at submerging political censure under metaphor (see his 1973 release, Gentleman, a denouncement of colonialism that employed pants as symbolism), Antibalas is more didactic, though they do dabble in some amusing poetics. Both the opening track and the breakbeat powerhouse "Big Man" come down on America's wholesaling of capitalist consumerism, augmented by a newfound razor-sharp wit. That sense of humor is also apparent on "Indictment", a stylistic watershed for the band. The track opens with a Superfly-echoing riff as spastic tenor sax man Stuart Bogie recites a litany of offenses committed by everyone from Donald Rumsfeld to "the game of baseball," in what sounds like some funky People's Court. The terrific throwback production-- cracking, overmiked drums, theme-show guitar, and background chatter reminiscent of James Brown's original Live at the Apollo-- make for one of the most unique, compelling songs the group has ever laid to tape.
The decision to close America with two monumental midtempo songs gives Antibalas the opportunity to show off all the tricks and insight they've gained in their seven years together. Victor Axelrod's liquid organ initially takes something of a plodding lead on "Elephant", but at six minutes in, the track briefly dubs out and Ernesto Abreu's Yoruba vocals come on like a Nuyorican boogaloo crooner. "Sister" is a 19-minute percussive workout; every instrument-- clavinet, horns, guitar, bass-- is a drum, rising and falling through a sexy, hypnotic and occasionally spacey plotline that, even in its extended length, keeps a tight, tense grip on the ear.
Like hip-hop and reggae, afrobeat is one of the crucial forms of expression for the world's disenfranchised. As time passes and we get further from the initial heat of Fela's influence, bands like Antibalas play a greater role in keeping the flame lit. Who Is This America? is the group's most powerful fuel for the fire.
