357: Hailu Mergia & Dahlak Band // Wede Harer Guzo
Wede Harer Guzo
Hailu Mergia & Dahlak Band
1970s, Ms Recording (Bandcamp)
I can’t 100% recall, but I’m pretty sure this was the first African record I ever bought (it was this or Nass El Ghiwane), and I wasn’t the only one—I’ve got a few friends with exactly one African record in their collection, and it’s this. When his music was rediscovered in 2016 after Awesome Tapes From Africa pressed this record (using Mergia’s own cassette copy as a source), Wede Harer Guzo became for western music nerds a part of that small company of gateway albums to the music of an entire continent. Let’s play a game of Remember Some Guys.
Remember Some Guys: That One African Record Edition
Expensive Shit
Who is William Onyeabor?
Wede Harer Guzo
Nigeria 70 (The Definitive Story of 1970’s Funky Lagos)
A dollar bin Miriam Makeba LP
uh
TEN$ION
Remain in Light (honorary)
God I’m tired. Anyway, I’ve always had kind of an uncertain relationship with this record. Mergia’s organ can sound like a cool balm on my aching brain or… elevator music. Dahlak Band can sound like a perfect fusion of the floaty “intellectual highlife” of Celestine Ukwu and the grooves of Booker T. and the MG’s… or, what were we talking about? An entire side just past me by unnoticed, yet again. I think this has more to do with me than it does with the record… though at a cassette-length hour-plus run time, some ideas do get repeated.
(Three ellipses in one paragraph… I think that’s more than I’ve used in this whole series so far. I’m so tired of writing these things man. I’m not even really divorced, I can’t wait to leave.)
Anyway, again, at its best, the record is transcendently beautiful. The way Mergia’s organ expands and contracts like the shimmer of light on dark water on “Anchin Kfu Ayinkash,” guitarist Dawit Kassa answering his pauses with little soulful licks… there the ellipses go again. Sometimes the record feels like it’s insinuating I should go to the lobby for more popcorn. Maybe I’ll buy Raisinettes?
It’s very good I’m saying, obviously. See you tomorrow.
357/365
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Declutter Tumblr
The new layout it a whole mess. Thankfully Xkit can already help with a bunch of this! I'm sure it'll give more options soon.
Vanilla Tumblr:
(I have marked in red what can be removed. The tabs can be set not to stick, so you will really only see them at the top of your dash. Empty box on the left for hidden notifications and shop sparkle, i just didn't have any. I'm EU so no Live for me).
Xkit Rewritten Tumblr:
The settings I use:
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222: Metal Urbain // Les hommes mort sont dangereux
Les hommes mort sont dangereux
Metal Urbain
1981, Celluloid
This past summer I listened to a bunch of archived John Peel radio show broadcasts from 1978. Aside from the considerable pleasures of soaking in Peel’s dry, sardonic point of view, there was something voyeuristically thrilling about hearing how familiar punk anthems first hit the airwaves. Whether it be listening to Peel enjoy the Undertones’ “Teenage Kicks” so much he’s compelled to play it twice in a row; hearing the introduction of Los Angeles’s X to UK audiences; or even realizing that in the heart of the punk era he was still playing Van Der Graaf Generator and the Albion Band right alongside the new wavers, the exercise offered a context to the songs and era that experiencing the tracks as discrete works lacks.
It was also a reminder of just how fertile the scene was, the programmes studied with (mostly) forgotten bands who disappeared after making a handful of miraculous seven-inches. So, let’s Remember Some Guys.
Remembering Some Guys: John Peel Discoveries Edition
Llygod Ffyrnig: An incredible Welsh punk band (trans. The Ferocious Mice) with one three-track single that everyone should hear this instant: “N.C.B.”
Radio Stars: English New Wave band by one of the other guys in Sparks. They made a song about Baffin Island (called “Baffin Island”)!
pragVEC: Cool London post-punk band with synth contributions from Jim Thirlwell: “Nervous”
La Peste: Boston punk band and authors of one ink black perfect single called “Better Off Dead”
Snakefinger: Okay, the Residents aren’t a discovery, but the Snakefinger solo track “The Spot” sure was to me! It’s so good!
Tyla Gang: Pub rock that kicks the unsuspected crotch that joins Johnny Thunders with the J. Geils Band, they have at least one track that I could carve on my heart: “No Roses”
Automatics: “When the Tanks Roll Over Poland Again” was a new wave number one track in 1978! I ain’t never had heard of it neither. C’est parfait.
Fabulous Poodles: Probably should’ve found them sooner! The Who/Kinks-y rock, let’s hear “Mirror Star” again why don’t we?
Strangeways: “Show Her You Care” is pure shake & pop heaven, feels so giddy it might shake itself and you to pieces.
The Desperate Bicycles: DIY never had a truer troupe of champions and were it not for their refusal to reissue their material in any form, they might be known as punk’s Beat Happening. Try “Smokescreen”!
Skids: Art punks from Dunfermline, Scotland, they’re heavy enough to be a NWOBHM band, but with all sorts a weird skittering going on. Six times? “Six Times”!
Metal Urbain, about which more below.
Metal Urbain were one of France’s first punk bands and a Peel fav that skipped right over a few stages of evolution and hatched fully formed with 1977’s “Paris Maquis” (a reference to the WWII French Resistance) single as a “synth punk” band in the same year the Damned and the Pistols were just getting off the blocks. (The same year, incidentally, that Suicide’s first LP dropped on the other side of the Atlanic.) Employing a cheapo drum machine in place of a human percussionist, Metal Urbain were nasty, snarling anti-everything punks with a laudable hatred for fascists and some rather less laudable hatred toward women (the grotesque shocker “Crève Salope,” or “Die Bitch”). The drum machine gives their simple songs a jerking, pitiless momentum, and if most of their songs sound pretty samey, at least they’re all playing the same pretty great punk song. Singer Eric Débris sounds kinda like a harsher Joe Strummer (plus that sort of wet, venomous quality French speakers get when they snarl), and they consistently find riffs that feel like exposed switchblades.
Still, they do have a hair more range than most retrospectives grant them. The skulking “Snuff Movie” finds them traipsing onto Suicide’s streets, while “Pop Poubelle” (“Pop Trash”) pulls the archetypal punk move of dolling out a super catchy surf-inspired lick on the song about how catchy pop music sucks and is bad. 1981’s Les hommes morts song dangereux (Dead Men Are Dangerous) compilation rounds up nearly everything they did during their original run, and makes for a convincing statement: every punk fan should hear the likes of “Futurama,” “Panik,” and “Hystérie connective”—so what’s stopping ya?
222/365
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