(Credits: Far Out / Kokoko!)

THE SKINNY: Historically, the traditional music styles of Africa have always leaned more towards danceable rhythms than other continents. Particularly in Central Africa and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, the lineage of traditional folk music has never particularly gone away. In fact, the dance-centric folk music of the Congo helped to influence the nation’s modern musical output, with more and more artists combining the nation’s distinctive sound with modern sensibilities and music technology. Perhaps the greatest example of this experimentalism in the modern age comes in the form of Kokoko!, based in the capital city of Kinshasa. 

Since first getting together back in 2016, the Kinshasa collective have been pushing the boundaries of experimental electronica, embracing a vast range of seemingly disparate musical influences and techniques to create their own distinctive sound. With their new album, Butu, the collective builds upon and diversifies the sound of their debut, 2019’s Fongola, with utterly compelling results. If you were at risk of being more than a little reductive, you could refer to Butu as an album of dance music, but there is so much more to be gained from the album than non-consequential dancing. 

Most modern dance albums, particularly recently, are built around a selection of bland and repetitive beats, with very little added to make the music listening experience enjoyable for somebody who is not out of their head on illicit substances. With Butu, though, these beats are complimented perfectly by the soulful vocals and emotional power of singer Makara Bianko, as well as the growing influence of traditional Congolese music, which is particularly evident on tracks like ‘Salaka Bien’. 

In addition to the music and lyricism itself, Butu also features an unavoidable amount of diegetic sound – car horns, road noise, and distant talking voices, for example – which aid in creating an all-encompassing atmosphere for the album. The record is clearly a love letter to the music scene and nightlife of their native Kinshasa, and the range of background sounds inherent throughout the tracklisting helps to transport the listener to that diverse and vibrant land. 

For fans of: Obsessively collecting dance music on vinyl, but only ever playing it on your audiophile hi-fi set-up while wearing white gloves. 

A concluding comment from a 1990s club DJ: Get rid of all that emotional and meaningful songwriting; all you need for a good dance album is a repetitive beat and a bucket load of E’s. 

Butu track-by-track:

Release date: July 5th | Producer: Xavier Thomas | Label: Transgressive

‘Butu Ezo Ya’: The diegetic noise which introduced this track helps to establish the scene of Kinshasa, which runs through the entirety of the record. However, this soundscape soon takes a backseat to dark electronica and Bianko’s furious vocals. [3.5/5]

‘Bazo Banga’: Opening with a punk-esque bassline, the chanting vocals of ‘Bazo Banga’ help to instil the track with an infectious quality, leaving you unable to help move your body to the beat. [4/5]

‘Donne Moi’: There is something eerily familiar about the driving beat that forms the backbone of this track, though it is quickly overshadowed by Bianko’s fantastic vocal performance and lyricism. [3/5]

‘Motema Mabe’: Perhaps the most diverse track on the record in terms of sound. Encapsulating such a broad range of styles and influences in one singular track is no easy task, but Kokoko! manages it with characteristic ease and grace. [3.5/5]

‘Mokili’: Leaning ever further into the influences of old-school dance music, this song is particularly befitting of a sweaty dancefloor. Even the shout which commences the track is reminiscent of some pirate radio DJ shouting ‘selector’. [3/5]

‘Mokolo Likambu’: After the unwavering sonic assault which has characterised this album so far, this song provides a brief moment for the audience to catch their breath. Bianko’s voice is particularly soulful on this track, a side of his performance which has rarely been showcased thus far on Butu. [3.5/5]

‘Kidoka’: After a brief interlude, we are back to danceable beats and infectious MCing, helping to keep the narrative of the album fresh without ever growing to feel repetitive or uninteresting. [3/5]

‘Motoki’: Embracing styles of psychedelia, this track once again aids in the broadening of Kokoko’s distinctive sound by bringing onboard a wider range of styles and genre conventions. Fear not, though; the song retains the innate danceability that we have come to expect from the group. [4/5]

‘Telema’: The Congolese influences of Kokoko have been ever-present throughout this album, but the music of the nation is perhaps most evident on this track, which blends tradition with the band’s own unique brand of dance music. [4.5/5]

‘Nasala Nini’: An unrelenting dance banger, this late highlight within the album serves to re-energise the listener, preparing them for the adrenaline onslaught of the final few tracks on Butu. [3/5]

‘Elingi Biso Te’: Featuring a distinctly darker, creepier sound than many of the previous tracks, this effort feels at risk of being somewhat disjointed from the rest of the album. It is not a bad song by any means, but it does seem to disrupt the flow of the tracklisting. [2.5/5]

‘Salaka Bien’: Kokoko certainly understands the importance of a big finish, and this nearly six-minute epic is perhaps one of their strongest tracks to date. Incorporating their usual, distinctly Congolese dance sound with diegetic noise and even some influences of retro dance music through Onyeabor-esque synth tracks. [4/5]