Founder rate ends 9th September.

We’re rebuilding theartsdesk to secure the future of real arts journalism. Be part of it by subscribing: if you do it now, the founders’ rate of just £40 yearly is yours FOR LIFE!

SUBSCRIBE NOW 

CD: Baloji - 137 Avenue Kaniama

Congolese-Belgian singer-songwriter rolls continents and decades into a singular vision

share this article

The death of “world music” is a wonderfully reassuring thing. That is to say, with every year that passes, it becomes less and less possible for media and consumers to bracket together music from outside the US and Europe as a single thing, and easier and easier for us to understand specific talents and currents within global culture for what they are. Obviously the fact I need to even say this means there's a good way to go. But talents like Baloji, the Congolese-born, Belgian-raised singer-songwriter, are blasting away the simplistic distinctions.

As this album kicks off, the cascading guitars and syncopated bounce of the drum patterns in “Glossine (Zombie)” instantly press the buttons that say “this is an African record”. But before the song is half finished, sounds and patterns that are both hip hop and techno have snuck in, with such subtlety and absolute musical logic that the track is cut loose from its continental associations. Ditto on the next track “L'Hiver Indien / Ghetto Mirador”: here not only do we have the black Atlantic connections between Congo, Cuba and Calypso in the guitar arpeggios, but Baloji's rapping joins then dots from the triplets of Memphis and Atlanta hiphop to those riffs. Not in a cultural fusion way, either; rather, just feeling as if all these elements are being put to use for the expression of a singular musical vision.

And as the record goes on, the more it feels like a personal record, and the less the specific elements matter. Even if your French is as rudimentary as mine, the strength of Baloji's expression is such that you get drawn into his storytelling, whether it's over Michael Jackson / Quincy Jones disco funk, low and slow trip hop, Congolese rumba or any combination thereof. And in the last third of the album, though it gets very moody and introspective, you get kept buoyant by the constant interjection of infectious hooks, until the last two tracks of the album pick everything back up in quite spectacular fashion. This is a unique album, brilliantly structured, and not belonging to any continent, any genre, or any style except for Baloji's own.

This is not done in a cultural fusion way; rather, just feeling as if all these elements are being put to use for the expression of a singular musical vision

rating

4

share this article

Help secure the future of arts journalism

In this era of algorithmic recommendation, opaquely sponsored content and AI slop, theartsdesk’s mission to preserve real journalistic and critical values has never been more important.

If you like what you see here, please join us 
in this mission.

Subscribing to the site will help us in our coming 
redesign and expansion.


If you do this before the 9th September this will be at our guaranteed founder’s rate: 
your subs will never increase again.

Subscribe now for £5 per month. 
or yearly for just £40.

Or if you simply want to support us with a one-off donation, you can do so here.

more new music

Two decades on from Patti Smith and the original pink sheep, the anniversary edition proved again that Latitude's real headliners are rarely at the top of the bill
From Korean bluegrass to gigantic Ugandan xylophones, the global diversity of musical life is here
A championing, but also perhaps a dilution, of South African innovation
The return of a punk-era landmark of British art rock
With a danceable rock feel she displays her burgeoning creativity
The garage rockers don't do themselves justice on new album
Andy Dragazis’ musical alter-ego offers nods to legendary arranger and producer Charles Stepney
The welcome return of a foundational album of electronic minimalism