Came across this tie-dye agent orange space-face frisco freakout poster and loved it. What’s not to like about a winged headdress wearing, serpent mouthed, alice cooper painted warrior princess radiating electricity?
I recently got hip to David Thai’s site, Killahbeez, which has some great all around content, ranging from fashion, art, and some phenomenal music interviews. I liked the interview with Lykke Li so much, I decided to post it for all of you here. Expect to see some regular contributions!
Swedish songstress Lykke Li is all but 22 years old, but her debut album, Youth Novels, is making heads turn. An explosion of electronic pop-rock with a little new age thrown into the mix, Lykke Li’s raspy, almost childlike vocals transcend lightly-layered, minimalist instrumentals. Singles “I’m Good I’m Gone,” “Little Bit” and “Breaking It Up” are already impacting global airwaves, not to mention Lykke Li’s avant-garde sense of personal style, which has been heavily noted by more than one fashionista. Despite her busy touring schedule (read: over 25 stops which include Paris, London, New York, Vancouver, San Francisco and Copenhagen), Lykke Li gave Killahbeez a hot minute to answer a few questions that have been on our minds.
To read the full interview, click the image above, or go HERE.
BY DANIEL HARJU
Have you had that unsettling feeling when you stare blankly at record store shelves and nothing stands out to tickle that musical chakra point of yours?
“If you’re feeling depressed, low, disturbed, irritable, out-of-sorts, sad, frustrated or wildly demented, then folks, we suggest you seek out a quiet place, indulge in some soothing meditation and cut away that headache by listening to this inspirational album,” read the liner notes of “Lazy Bones” by Witch. I was lucky enough to heed their advice and it might have changed my life. But let’s start in the right end.
Zambia in the mid 1970s was a place in flux. To the south, Nelson Mandela and his ANC (you know, that famous terrorist-turned-Nobel-laureate and his organization) were fighting a war against apartheid, as were many other liberation movements all around the African continent. A decade earlier, Zambia had gained independence from the British Empire, but still the country and its people were struggling. When the price of Zambia’s livelihood copper dropped, the country plunged into a financial crisis. The “dept” allowed World Bank and International Monetary Fund to sink its neo-imperialist claws into the sore flesh of Zambia and, in the end, just about every African nation.
During this time of social and political turmoil, and against the backdrop of Pan-Africanism, several Zambian musical groups flowered like gorgeous psychedelic orchids in a grim landscape shaped by poverty, war and other calamities. Two of these bands, Witch and Amanaz, shone like true gems reflecting not only the cultural context in which they appeared (both bands were from the Copperbelt region of Zambia), but also musical influences from American and British psychedelic music of date.
If it weren’t for aficionados of afro-psych such as German-based label Shadoks Music, who reissued both Witch’s 1975 album “Lazy Bones” and Amanaz’s “Africa” of the same year, these cultural jewels might have remained obscured in copper mine dust.
Upon first hearing Amanaz’s “Africa,” I was delighted by the organic feel of the recording and its enlightened mix of African and Western influences. Eventually the songs took on otherworldly qualities, radiating as if permeated with empathy for humanity and consequently veiled in melancholy. Amanaz’s mournful beauty holds a timeless emotional depth and instills in the listener a yearning for some mystical place.
Seven songs on “Africa” were sung in English and three in Bemba, a language predominantly spoken in Zambia. The band had several songwriters, which gave the five-piece an eclectic sound that resounded within its own parameters. “Africa” is a wondrous journey past plentiful vocals harmonies sung with distinctively different-sounding voices, soft guitar melodies that sway like tall grass in the wind, hypnotic down-to-earth rhythms and haunting fire-fly fuzz guitars that encircle an otherwise tranquil soundscape.
“I Am Very Far” opens with a dinosaur guitar riff and quickly changes into a sad but harmoniously sung ballad about an unreachable lover. The song is heavy by way of gravity, carried by powerful dipping vocal melodies, driven by rocking-chair rhythms and adorned with guitar licks that flutter like birds in evening sky.
Perhaps the most captivating song on the album is the epic five-minute title track. The song’s dolefully sung call-and-response vocals (in Bemba) are intersected by muddy guitar riffs and the beautifully audial depiction of “Africa” is pushed forward by quick cyclical rhythms in 6/8 time signature. At one point, the song is reduced to vacuum of subtle rhythmic pattering, only to be refilled with the same descending fuzz guitar riffs. Despite the fact that I can only speculate on the song’s subject matter (man-inflicted apocalypse?), it still never fails to strike that emotional tear-jerk chord.
The Witch performing in Zambia
On the heavier side of Amanaz stands Witch (a.k.a. We Intend To Cause Havoc). Compared to the melancholic beauty of Amanaz, the Witch’s sound is both heavier and funkier, their melodies and grooves more recognizable, and their overall sentiment more upbeat. Crammed with fuzz guitars and injected with a healthy doze of cry-baby wah-wahs, “Lazy Bones” is jam-packed with incredibly groovy moments, catchy hooks and clever melodies. Witch successfully combined the socio-political awareness à la Fela Kuti with the bang-you-head-against-the-wall grooviness of Black Sabbath and Deep Purple.
With songs like “Motherless Child”, “Havoc” and “Off Ma Boots,” Witch channeled political awareness and anger through heavy rock tunes that expressed solidarity with victims of war, poverty and injustices. Witch got it! Not only did they understand how powerful rock’n’roll can be as a medium for social and political commentary, they also presented their message with an inventive psychedelic flair. If only more bands of today could see the light, or better, to come up with their own illuminating messages.
With “Strange Dreams,” Witch gets of their soapbox and leads us into a wonderful piece of psychedelic escapism. “Drifting on the Nile with Mary Ann, in a small boat, feeling free,” sings vocalist Emanyeo Jagari Chanda, while the band lays down some backup instrumentation so groovy it would have made Buffalo Springfield pot-green with envy.
Witch runs the musical gamut with “Lazy Bones.” The 10 songs range from the afro-beat rhythms and harmonies of “October Nights,” to the Black Sabbathesque chugga-chugga on “Black Tears,” to the Stonesy rhythm ’n’ blues sweetness of “Little Clown.”
An extolment of Zambian afro-psych would be incomplete without mentioning Chrissy Zebby Tembo, whose 1974 album with the Ngozi Family, entitled “My Ancestors,” is a master-piece in its own right. Tembo’s infectious pop songs are structured cyclically, drenched in fuzz guitar, and sung with a much more celebratory feel than both Witch and Amanaz.
This hauntingly beautiful opus is a five-minute travel-with-your-mind odyssey filled with call and response vocal harmonies, descending guitar riffs and wish-you-thought-of-that-one-yourself chord progressions. Listen out for the drums and the muted guitar string strumming in the breakdown. This song seems to foreshadow an apocalypse; it produces that feeling in the stomach you get from watching dark and menacing thunder clouds enter the horizon.
“So poor I could die, so hungry I ate, Off Ma Boots!” This song quite possibly has the sickest groove ever! The excellent rhythm guitar just bounces of the drums and bass, while the fuzz lead-guitar flies across the room like a crazy bat.
“Feeling good, feeling bad. Are you upset in your mind? Come back to me we stay together. You will find peace and love. Please baby, come back to me. I am lonely you are lonely. If you really love me baby, come back to my home today. You know that I love you. You are lonely and I’m lonely. Don’t feel bad feel free. If you really love me baby, Alright!” How could she not come back to this guy!? Listen out for the über-cool space-age guitar effect.
