Alejandra Cárdenas (aka Ale Hop) adds psychedelic Afro-Latin rhythms and aerated electronics to Congolese guitarist Titi Bakorta's uplifting soukous-tinged riffs on 'Mapambazuko', dreaming up a cross-continental fusion that bridges the gap between Congolese pop and angular avant-minimalism. Features remixes from Flora Yin-Wong and KMRU.
Anyone who caught Bakorta's under-the-radar debut, last year's 'Molende', will already know that the veteran performer - who's taken his blurry folk and R&B abstractions throughout Africa - is a force to be reckoned with. Peruvian artist and researcher Cárdenas meanwhile, has built up an impressive reputation over the last few years for not only her genre-piercing electro-acoustic experiments (such as 2021's 'The Life of Insects'), but her inventive collaborations, the most recent of which, 'Agua Dulce', found her working with percussionist Laura Robles on a technoid deployment of traditional cajón rhythms. The duo formulated 'Mapambazuko' while Cárdenas was on residency at Nyege Nyege's studio in Kampala, and set to work figuring out how their individual approaches might best harmonize: Cárdenas ended up handling the rhythms and effects, while Bakorta was tasked with laying down the melodies.
The album springs to life with the ebullient 'Bonne année', a swift-footed track that winds Bakorta's sunny phrases around Cárdenas' shuffled, slippery beat. Bakorta's voice is loud and clear on this one, and his multi-layered riffs propel us from Kampala to the heavens, but it's Cárdenas who frays the edges, fractalizing her thuds and rubbery pops and positioning a neon spotlight on the carnival's main stage. The mood continues on the title track, maybe the album's most unashamedly joyful moment, as Cárdenas decorates Bakorta's twangy earworms with dislodged squelches, white noise bursts and powdery rhythmic flurries. It takes a murkier left turn on 'Así baila el sintetizador', as Bajorta slips into a bluesy minor key, and Cárdenas responds with urgent, distorted kicks and evocative synthesized insectoid chirps, and when we reach 'Una cumbia en Kinshasa', the duo have truly found their feet, highlighting some of the rhythmic correlations between Peruvian cumbia (a notoriously hallucinogenic strain) and balmy Congolese pop.
Cárdenas even throws in her own extended rework of the latter, fleshing out the beat to breaking point, when the track splinters dramatically. And we're treated to a thrumming, meditative deconstruction of 'Nitaangaza', the album's majestically blunted finale, by Kenyan sound artist KMRU. But it's left to Flora Yin-Wong to handle the final post-credits sequence, with a sinister, stripped-n-slowed remix of 'Así baila...' that wrings out the ritualistic doom from Cárdenas' original rhythmic flutters.
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Alejandra Cárdenas (aka Ale Hop) adds psychedelic Afro-Latin rhythms and aerated electronics to Congolese guitarist Titi Bakorta's uplifting soukous-tinged riffs on 'Mapambazuko', dreaming up a cross-continental fusion that bridges the gap between Congolese pop and angular avant-minimalism. Features remixes from Flora Yin-Wong and KMRU.
Anyone who caught Bakorta's under-the-radar debut, last year's 'Molende', will already know that the veteran performer - who's taken his blurry folk and R&B abstractions throughout Africa - is a force to be reckoned with. Peruvian artist and researcher Cárdenas meanwhile, has built up an impressive reputation over the last few years for not only her genre-piercing electro-acoustic experiments (such as 2021's 'The Life of Insects'), but her inventive collaborations, the most recent of which, 'Agua Dulce', found her working with percussionist Laura Robles on a technoid deployment of traditional cajón rhythms. The duo formulated 'Mapambazuko' while Cárdenas was on residency at Nyege Nyege's studio in Kampala, and set to work figuring out how their individual approaches might best harmonize: Cárdenas ended up handling the rhythms and effects, while Bakorta was tasked with laying down the melodies.
The album springs to life with the ebullient 'Bonne année', a swift-footed track that winds Bakorta's sunny phrases around Cárdenas' shuffled, slippery beat. Bakorta's voice is loud and clear on this one, and his multi-layered riffs propel us from Kampala to the heavens, but it's Cárdenas who frays the edges, fractalizing her thuds and rubbery pops and positioning a neon spotlight on the carnival's main stage. The mood continues on the title track, maybe the album's most unashamedly joyful moment, as Cárdenas decorates Bakorta's twangy earworms with dislodged squelches, white noise bursts and powdery rhythmic flurries. It takes a murkier left turn on 'Así baila el sintetizador', as Bajorta slips into a bluesy minor key, and Cárdenas responds with urgent, distorted kicks and evocative synthesized insectoid chirps, and when we reach 'Una cumbia en Kinshasa', the duo have truly found their feet, highlighting some of the rhythmic correlations between Peruvian cumbia (a notoriously hallucinogenic strain) and balmy Congolese pop.
Cárdenas even throws in her own extended rework of the latter, fleshing out the beat to breaking point, when the track splinters dramatically. And we're treated to a thrumming, meditative deconstruction of 'Nitaangaza', the album's majestically blunted finale, by Kenyan sound artist KMRU. But it's left to Flora Yin-Wong to handle the final post-credits sequence, with a sinister, stripped-n-slowed remix of 'Así baila...' that wrings out the ritualistic doom from Cárdenas' original rhythmic flutters.
Alejandra Cárdenas (aka Ale Hop) adds psychedelic Afro-Latin rhythms and aerated electronics to Congolese guitarist Titi Bakorta's uplifting soukous-tinged riffs on 'Mapambazuko', dreaming up a cross-continental fusion that bridges the gap between Congolese pop and angular avant-minimalism. Features remixes from Flora Yin-Wong and KMRU.
Anyone who caught Bakorta's under-the-radar debut, last year's 'Molende', will already know that the veteran performer - who's taken his blurry folk and R&B abstractions throughout Africa - is a force to be reckoned with. Peruvian artist and researcher Cárdenas meanwhile, has built up an impressive reputation over the last few years for not only her genre-piercing electro-acoustic experiments (such as 2021's 'The Life of Insects'), but her inventive collaborations, the most recent of which, 'Agua Dulce', found her working with percussionist Laura Robles on a technoid deployment of traditional cajón rhythms. The duo formulated 'Mapambazuko' while Cárdenas was on residency at Nyege Nyege's studio in Kampala, and set to work figuring out how their individual approaches might best harmonize: Cárdenas ended up handling the rhythms and effects, while Bakorta was tasked with laying down the melodies.
The album springs to life with the ebullient 'Bonne année', a swift-footed track that winds Bakorta's sunny phrases around Cárdenas' shuffled, slippery beat. Bakorta's voice is loud and clear on this one, and his multi-layered riffs propel us from Kampala to the heavens, but it's Cárdenas who frays the edges, fractalizing her thuds and rubbery pops and positioning a neon spotlight on the carnival's main stage. The mood continues on the title track, maybe the album's most unashamedly joyful moment, as Cárdenas decorates Bakorta's twangy earworms with dislodged squelches, white noise bursts and powdery rhythmic flurries. It takes a murkier left turn on 'Así baila el sintetizador', as Bajorta slips into a bluesy minor key, and Cárdenas responds with urgent, distorted kicks and evocative synthesized insectoid chirps, and when we reach 'Una cumbia en Kinshasa', the duo have truly found their feet, highlighting some of the rhythmic correlations between Peruvian cumbia (a notoriously hallucinogenic strain) and balmy Congolese pop.
Cárdenas even throws in her own extended rework of the latter, fleshing out the beat to breaking point, when the track splinters dramatically. And we're treated to a thrumming, meditative deconstruction of 'Nitaangaza', the album's majestically blunted finale, by Kenyan sound artist KMRU. But it's left to Flora Yin-Wong to handle the final post-credits sequence, with a sinister, stripped-n-slowed remix of 'Así baila...' that wrings out the ritualistic doom from Cárdenas' original rhythmic flutters.
Alejandra Cárdenas (aka Ale Hop) adds psychedelic Afro-Latin rhythms and aerated electronics to Congolese guitarist Titi Bakorta's uplifting soukous-tinged riffs on 'Mapambazuko', dreaming up a cross-continental fusion that bridges the gap between Congolese pop and angular avant-minimalism. Features remixes from Flora Yin-Wong and KMRU.
Anyone who caught Bakorta's under-the-radar debut, last year's 'Molende', will already know that the veteran performer - who's taken his blurry folk and R&B abstractions throughout Africa - is a force to be reckoned with. Peruvian artist and researcher Cárdenas meanwhile, has built up an impressive reputation over the last few years for not only her genre-piercing electro-acoustic experiments (such as 2021's 'The Life of Insects'), but her inventive collaborations, the most recent of which, 'Agua Dulce', found her working with percussionist Laura Robles on a technoid deployment of traditional cajón rhythms. The duo formulated 'Mapambazuko' while Cárdenas was on residency at Nyege Nyege's studio in Kampala, and set to work figuring out how their individual approaches might best harmonize: Cárdenas ended up handling the rhythms and effects, while Bakorta was tasked with laying down the melodies.
The album springs to life with the ebullient 'Bonne année', a swift-footed track that winds Bakorta's sunny phrases around Cárdenas' shuffled, slippery beat. Bakorta's voice is loud and clear on this one, and his multi-layered riffs propel us from Kampala to the heavens, but it's Cárdenas who frays the edges, fractalizing her thuds and rubbery pops and positioning a neon spotlight on the carnival's main stage. The mood continues on the title track, maybe the album's most unashamedly joyful moment, as Cárdenas decorates Bakorta's twangy earworms with dislodged squelches, white noise bursts and powdery rhythmic flurries. It takes a murkier left turn on 'Así baila el sintetizador', as Bajorta slips into a bluesy minor key, and Cárdenas responds with urgent, distorted kicks and evocative synthesized insectoid chirps, and when we reach 'Una cumbia en Kinshasa', the duo have truly found their feet, highlighting some of the rhythmic correlations between Peruvian cumbia (a notoriously hallucinogenic strain) and balmy Congolese pop.
Cárdenas even throws in her own extended rework of the latter, fleshing out the beat to breaking point, when the track splinters dramatically. And we're treated to a thrumming, meditative deconstruction of 'Nitaangaza', the album's majestically blunted finale, by Kenyan sound artist KMRU. But it's left to Flora Yin-Wong to handle the final post-credits sequence, with a sinister, stripped-n-slowed remix of 'Así baila...' that wrings out the ritualistic doom from Cárdenas' original rhythmic flutters.