One night several years ago at an Irish pub in the East Village of New York City, the discussion of music turned to disco. It involved musicians and people over 40 years-old, people who might know what they’re talking about. Several of us were, in the heyday of Studio 54 and the disco era, into punk rock. Others of us were -- me especially -- strictly jazz heads. I reminded my friend of lonely nights in college smoking out of a four-foot bong and listening to Zappa and John Coltrane and wondering how to meet girls. They were at the campus disco parties, while we were above it all. And alone, getting in touch with ourselves.
Now a guy walked into the bar - no, this is not a joke, this is true - leans over and asks Nancy, the bartender, to put on a CD he brought. He had a box set called 100 Disco Hits and wanted to hear it. She put it on over a few protests and by the third cut half the bar was up dancing. "This shit is great, what were we thinkin’?" What were we thinking? The cuts that he played -- "Boogie Nights," "Disco Lady," "Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now" -- were all songs with soul power. Killer musicians, great singers, and songwriters that had some skills were at work on these gems. So many of the songs that turned off the young cynic back in the day -- and I was one of them -- now sound like musical versions of the politics of hope. Besides the quality of the music and the infusion of beer and liquor, these cuts stood out because the party music of today consists of desperate, vapid consumer fantasies "sung" over prepackaged, overly mechanized "music." From Justin Timberlake to Mariah Carey, this is what dance music is all about. Like rap agitators Public Enemy asked back in the ‘90's "who stole the soul?"
These memories and thoughts came to mind while listening to Koko Dozo’s new CD Illegal Space Aliens. The band members present themselves as bizarro characters. Chief producer Polarity/1, who created the beats and sounds that make the backbone of the music, dresses like a pro wrestling manager who is channeling Sun Ra. Though using synthesizer sounds, drum machines, and synth bass, his music has a distinctive, organic quality, a certain freshness and vitality. Rubio -- the self-described "multi-brained, Viking, Satanic wizard"; complete with Viking helmet and wizardly robe -- provides funky, jazzy keyboards that flesh out and add spice and musicality to the grooves. Singer Amy Douglas, the "Inter-Galactic Empress," looks like a grown up Punky Brewster turned dominatrix from Brooklyn by way of worlds beyond. But for all the outer spaceness of their image and electronic sounds, the music on Illegal Space Aliens is rooted in the organic soil of the disco, funk and soul of a bygone era.
The CD starts with dense electronic sounds that morph into a groove consisting of bass, a looped piano chord, and a beat made of these dense sounds, on the opening cut "Second Time." Amy Douglas brings flesh and soul to this cyborg of a song. With musical experience covering punk cabaret, funk with George Clinton and down-home jazz with Illinois Jacquet, she has the pipes. She also has the musicality and taste to do it just right. "Face on the Dance Floor" starts with disembodied female voices and a vocal loop of laughs. A house beat kicks in and Douglas busts out with a Donna Summers-like vocal blast: "You know you got that face... hold your face on the dance floor / wave your feet in the air / make us believe that you don’t care / smash your face on the dance floor / put your kicks in the air / wave it some more put your fuckin’ face on the dance floor." The song grooves along with interesting musical riffs and keyboard counter melodies, as Douglas goes off. The backup group female voices come back and the song’s next verse comes in. These little touches elevate this and other songs on the CD above average, boring house and dance music. You can dig this music without drugs or dancing.
Koko Dozo - "Face On The Dancefloor" Live @ Nacotheque
Some of the album’s cuts resemble the classic disco of the‘70's and ‘80's. "Boomchi" has that signature four-on-the-floor drum beat, offbeat funk bass lick, and soulful strings. The vocals come in like Chic’s classic "Good Times." Busting out in Spanish, Douglas lets fly some wailing diva vocal blasts. The song’s break down features bass drum, breathy, chanting vocals, and an over-the-top spew in Spanglish by Rubio. Euro disco brought in the dominance of synthesizers and more mechanical rhythms. "Shine" is in this mold, but the piano licks and, once again, Douglas’ voice gives the song a human face: "Shine a light / I need to know that I’m alive / Shine a light / guide me to your secret side / give me breath that can revive."
Koko Dozo mines other types of music, particularly the expansive side of soul and funk, on the slow jam "Down." This features sweet lead and backup vocals, as well as chords that move and glide in an extended middle part that seems to drift away. Then, from silence, the song starts up with vocals that remind one of soul diva’s like Chaka Khan. "D.C. Whore" combines political satire and discordant, complex funk. "Fulano de Tai" is dirge-like, with music that evokes the image of an emotional desert and recalls one of Ennio Morricone’s more psychedelic soundtracks.
One of the strengths of Illegal Space Aliens, and my regular readers please forgive me, is that there are nine choice cuts on this record. No fluff, just a statement. This should be the new trend. This should also be an example of how to make dance music that is intelligent and cool, not dumbed down to the level of morons in too-tight $90 designer jeans.
» [2010-09-01] How The Music Industry Changed; The Days Of Creating A Song, Getting It Played On The Radio, Sold Within Stores, Touring And Making A Ton Of Cash Has Basically Dried Up
