The Breakdown
If ever there was an imprint that was more than just another indie record label it’s Bongo Joe. A musicians’ collective, a community, a shop and watering hole, a barometer of Geneva’s underground scene, an epicentre for ‘post -world’ music, this cutting-edge Swiss co-op is now in its tenth year. Fitting then that Bongo Joe’s founder Cyril Yeterian should be a contributor to one the label’s final releases during this anniversary celebration, the second album from Yalla Miku, naturally called ‘2’.
Cyril and his namesake buddy Cyril Bondi were central to Yalla Miku’s self-titled debut (yes there not too fussed about album titles) from 2023, inputting guitar, vocals plus “UFO banjo” and drums respectively. The band now returns for Yalla Miku’s second statement with an intent to re-imagine their energetic cocktail of post punk, dub, afrobeat, kosmische and East African rhythmics within a tighter framework.
The two Cyrils are again at the core as is Eritrean krar player and vocalist Samuel Ades Tesfagergsh but elsewhere Yalla Miku have trimmed down from the original septet to a five piece. In comes fellow Genevan scenesters Louise Knobil on bass and vocals plus experimental musician Emma Souharce on electronics and synths. That does mean that for ‘2’ Anouar Baouna’s guembri and the darbouka of Ali Bouchaki are missing from the soundscape this time but the resulting dynamic is perhaps more persistent and powerful than on the band’s searching debut.
From the opening ratcheted chords of Al Sayf, this refreshed Yalla Miku seem to have a clear sight of their overall intention to up the volume and velocity. A twitchy angular riff, spindly garage rock keys, Yetarian’s soulful vocal, dug deep from his Arabic roots and Bondi’s whip-crack drumming, combine to deliver a thrusting art punk statement and that’s just the opening. Alemuye seems determined to keep up the pace, chiming in with a buoyant Krar and keys combo before Knobil’s pumping bass joins Bondi’s for some alt-rock swaggering. It’s an infectious, reliable stomp that’s briskly stirred with some Yalla Miku magic, Ades Tesfagergsh’s electrifying Krar and distinct Eritrean vocal warble cutting in on the back of a quirky desert rock gallop. The contrast is sharp but that’s symptomatic of this group’s singular approach to “fusion”. Yalla Miku thrive on ramming styles together and seeing where the confluence of sound takes them.
So don’t be taken in by the swivelling funky opening to Al 3Mal, it doesn’t prepare you for the doom metal riffs, Ades Tesfagergsh’s towering vocal incantations or the frazzled electronic breakdowns. It’s all deliciously nineties Laswell. Le Palais De Bachar also uses its twists and turns to unsettle and excite. With Gang Of Four guitar scrabble as a foundation, the surprises come from different angles, busy snatches of vocal scats, robotic scratches and industrial percussion somehow clinging together in a tense squabble. It’s the perfect backdrop for Ades to sing of hope after the years of chaos.
As a collective that naturally respond to fresh influences, the input of Louise Knobil and Emma Souharce bring an experimental avant pop sensibility to album ‘2’. Souharce injects some cool, sardonic spoken word to the punk garage work out of Post – Aventures, painting a near-future picture with a dismissive smirk. That same snippy satire and dead pan delivery gives the kosmische thrusting Maximum Self-Care an extra edge as she despairs of the “right leggings/the right chakra/the right visa” individualism of today. Here Knobil’s harmonic Peter Hook-ish bass lines power the song’s fluid repetition alongside Souharce’s neo-prog keyboard riff with Cyril Bondi’s swinging beats making the final sprint. Completing this adsurdist pop song trio on ‘2’ is the quirky and quizzical Scarlett Chien. This is lo-fi Flying Lizard’s art rock at its finest, a melange of retro farfisa sounds, one note guitar, multi lingual chants and surf rock shuffle. Here Yalla Miku let the ideas unwind rather than pile more in before a final psychedelic descent into the echo chamber (or maybe the inner world of a Pokemon fried mind).
There’s a parallel on ‘2’ with Bondi and Yeterian’s last album as Cyril Cyril which also drew on a spiritual connection to the early 2000’s Genevan squat scene and the agit political, multi-cultural foundations of the Bongo Joe community. So naturally the songs which revolve around Krar playing vocalist Ades Tesfagergsh’s experiences and reflections as a refugee in Switzerland, are pivotal to the album’s strengths. Embeyto, named after his home town in Eritrea, looks tensely at the old traditions that now seem distant to him within a smouldering deep dub soundtrack haunted by his hovering voice, twanging Morricone guitar and crackles of electronics. More Wobble-esque bass throb rumbles under La Tour Eiffel, Tesfagergsh’s recollections of his dream destination once he had been granted legal right to remain. Here is a song which switch-backs through a giddy whirl of influences, industrial dub, nimble desert blues, looping indie pop backing vocals and locked in Krar patterns. As a homely acoustic flute song plays out through the closing swirl you can’t question the spontaneous daring that make Yalla Miku such an intriguing band.
This may not be an album for world music purists or wholesome fusion enthusiasts but if you’re looking for something more daring, raucous and outside-the-box, Yalla Miku’s ‘2’ would be well worth the plunge.
Get your copy of Yalla Miku ‘2’ from your local record store or direct from Bongo Joe HERE
No Comment