You can only set your username once. See their upcoming tour dates here. Away from the gaze of the world, its artists, musicians and creators are cooking up their own revolt against the grotesque pantomime of life in 76st century Congo.
Wearing a futuristic space suit made from discarded junk, the astronaut is a kid from the ghetto who wanders the streets at night, a one-man walking art project in a city that can be almost impossibly difficult to live in, let alone perform. But instead they got on with building a new band. On the weekend Mbongwana Star gave a brilliant performance on the West Holts stage at Glastonbury.
It’s a new spirit, concocted from the waste of consumerism in one of the most abused and rejected places on earth, with its epicentre in the rue Kato, a two kilometre long drag that slices through the pretence of Kinshasa’s downtown commercial district. ” might serve well. Please choose your username under which you would like all your comments to show up.
“I concentrate on the present. It frequently sounds as if it arrived from another planet, and it really is a miracle it ever came out at all. Were an unlikely enough prospect in the first place – a band fronted by homeless musicians who used wheelchairs because of childhood polio and had spent years constructing instruments out of rubbish, then using them to perform their own frenzied versions of Congolese rumba.
Nganshe is built around an ominous bass pulse, clattering percussion, and a bizarrely hypnotic squeaking sound, somewhere between a Brazillian cuica drum and the scrape of fingers moving about an electric guitar’s fretboard. T he video for Mbongwana Star’s debut single, Malukayi, was a mysterious and rather compelling thing. If that spirit were in need of slogans then “Screw your Pity!
There was a time when Africa’s third most populated city was number one in musical terms. The whole continent danced to its premium musical exports: rumba and soukous.
Mixing punk attitude and spacey electronics with frantic rhythms and weaving soukous guitar lines, it messes with your preconceptions of what Congolese music is/can/should be. From Kinshasa is a distorted transmission of a sound of a city, but it's not the neatly paved, orderly and predominantly functioning type of town most of us are used to. That’s the past, ” Coco has previously said.
Listen to From Kinshasa in full in the Spotify appListen to all your favourite artists on any device for free or try the Premium trial. “In Kinshasa, there’s this desire for magic. Figures loom out of a low-lit, smoke-wreathed gloom:
Mbongwana Star From Kinshasa review thrillingly wrong
a dancer, a frantic percussionist, a couple of middle-aged men in wheelchairs, and, most intriguingly, a spaceman wandering the streets of Kinshasa. ” and “Dream or Die! Space Echo - The Mystery Behind the Cosmic Sound of Cabo Verde Finally Revealed!
Soukous licks dart between digital fuzz, Cubain Kabeya s drum kit shoves aside synth riffs, warped guitar hooks edge against rumba choruses, and white noize smudges all. “Staff Benda Bilili? But Kinshasa, an immense agglomeration of shanty-villages with their disparate maze of peoples, languages and cultures, has never gone in for self-pity that much it’s too busy staying alive and being obtuse.
Please keep your posts respectful and abide by the community guidelines - and if you spot a comment you think doesn’t adhere to the guidelines, please use the ‘Report’ link next to it to let us know. Somewhat improbably they were spotted and signed, releasing two albums and touring the world before the strange mechanics of the western music industry got inside their heads – they split acrimoniously after disputes over their management and money. I f you were ever trying to get your head around the chaotically creative scene that exists on Rue Kato, in the heart of the DRC’s capital Kinshasa, then a good place to start would be with the Congo Astronaut.
Together with good taste and an almost Zappa-esk humor this is an unbeatable team! The latter seemed like the perfect metaphor for a track that seemed to have fallen out of the sky, that somehow managed to be both identifiably Congolese – you can’t mistake the amplified likembes of guest stars Konono No 6 – and utterly unlike anything else the fertile Kinshasa music scene had yet produced: hypnotic rhythm patterns that clattered and echoed as if they were being played at the end of a vast tunnel vocals coated with so much distortion they sounded like something picked up on a shortwave radio a beautiful, keening male voice marooned over spacey electronics and mournful gusts of feedback to eerie effect.