Fantastic Metropolis

I finally started to explore modern Arabic electronica. I have been listening to Algerian Raï for a decade, but in 2002 I exposed myself to musical fusions from other regions, including Morocco, Egypt and Syria. A few favourites are Aisha Kandisha’s Jarring Effects, Oojami and the Lebanese trip-hop group Soap Kills, with their warped tango rhythms and sultry vocalist Yasmine Hamdan. Equally spacey and curious, the work of Nicodemus also deserves a favourable mention, especially the evocative track “Desert Dancer” which features the heartrending vocals of Andrea Montiero. There is a wealth of musical excellence here and I anticipate losing myself in it with relish.

Miscellaneous discoveries include the Italian groups Uaragniaun and Ariondela; Päivi ärling from Finland; the fadista Cristina Branco; the amazing Guadalupe Urbina, whose Tropico Azul de Lluvia album is filled with strange and lovely songs from Costa Rica; the Afro-Peruvians Susana Baca and Cecilia Barraza; Manu Chao, Nava, Sidestepper and other Latin dance fusions; and very belatedly the bizarre and incredible experiments of Slapp Happy and Casablanca Moon, an album which contains what surely must be the most perfect love song ever written, “A Little Something”. I also absorbed plenty of new material by old favourites, Natacha Atlas, Daniela Mercury and Timbalada.

However, of all the recordings I heard in 2002, five in particular stand out. Here they are:

1. Jet Society, 18th Street Lounge, Various

I was lying in bed utterly exhausted when I heard this recording on a neighbour’s hi-fi and felt compelled to rouse myself and investigate more closely. I managed to borrow it and I quickly decided it was my album of the year. Slinky, jazzy and aware, this compilation removes the smugness from the concept of the ‘lounge’ without losing the comfort or irony. Starting with the seductive torch song “Lisboa à Noite” it soon progresses to a sequence of hypnotic tracks that are part French jazz, part sultry bossa nova, including works by Nicola Conte, Mo’ Horizons, Reminiscence Quartet, Trio Eletrico and Louise Vertigo. This is music ideal for chilling to, smiling at, being with.

2. Rough Guide to the Music of Cape Verde

I am a huge fan of the Rough Guides music series, which like the albums of Putumayo, have introduced me to so many great artists from around the world. I have long loved Brazilian samba-canção and Portuguese fado, and the songs of Cape Verde seem to combine these two traditions. They are lilting and smooth, yet imbued with intense, sometimes stark, emotion, but they can also be spiced up with traces of African rhythm. The big name is Cesária Évora, but this album contains exceptional tracks by the Mendes Brothers, the wonderful group Simentera and an insidiously catchy number by Agusto Cego called “Nha Fidjo”. But my favourite track must be Maria Alice’s sinuously graceful “Falso Testemunho”, so saturated with lost love it almost drips tears and the juice of kisses.

3. Point, by Cornelius

Imagine Talking Heads, Brian Eno and Daft Punk spiked together. Imagine the warm melodies of Brazilian music transformed into chilly automatic cyberpop. Add these on top, then imagine Japan, the land not the band. All these imaginings probably won’t conjure up visions of Keigo Oyamada, also known as Cornelius, but they might point in his general direction. Cornelius spends a lot of time on his own and allegedly also designs clothes. His music is peculiar and futuristic in an old-fashioned way. It can be soft or harsh, sometimes both at the same time. It is rarely less than stunning, and even when it isn’t, the noise that remains still utilises studio trickery in a way original enough to fix the attention. Music from a bedroom in outer space.