ALSARAH AND THE NUBATONES - From Khartoum via Taizz and Boston to Brooklyn

23. November 2016

Alsarah And The Nubatones

ALSARAH AND THE NUBATONES - From Khartoum via Taizz and Boston to Brooklyn

Something tribal drum, a few plucked instruments, in addition this clear female voice, traditional singing, somewhere in the North African area to locate, perhaps also some Arabic harmonies. And then, after 52 seconds, the electric bass comes along, playing a driving urban dance groove. What a contrast! But at the same moment: what a symbiosis! "Salam Nubia", the opener of "Manara", the second album of Alsarah And The Nubatones, is a prime example of the music of the New York quintet. "Salam Nubia", one may translate that with "Peace for Nubia" or also "Greetings to Nubia". This formula does not come by chance, since the composer, lyricist and singer Alsarah comes from Sudan, which partly belonged to the historical Nubia, the kingdom of Kush.

Born in 1982 as Sarah Mohamed Abunama-Elgadi in Sudan's capital Khartoum, Alsarah was named the new princess of Nubian pop by the British newspaper The Guardian in 2013. A title that the honoured person doesn't like: "I appreciate the certain sense of drama in this title, because it suits my performances. But honestly, I don't see myself that way." Perhaps more exciting is the fact that the Guardian said this three years ago - a year before Alsarah And The Nubatones released their debut album "Silt". Until then it was a long, arduous journey for the artist.

From dictatorship to war

"My parents were human rights activists, and since one dictator replaced another in Sudan, they were constantly in trouble with the authorities," she outlines the starting point of her journey into the world. She recalls the year 1989, when the current president Umar al-Bashir putsched himself to power with the help of the military: "Many people who had stood up for freedom and democracy disappeared and reappeared in body bags Alsarah's family fled to Yemen, to Taizz, the 450,000-inhabitant metropolis in the southwest of the country. But even there she was not safe for long, in 1994 a civil war broke out. Alsarah's mother worked for an American NGO that organized her new escape. "We were evacuated in a military plane and flown to Saudi Arabia. They told us, 'You can't stay here'. After all, we ended up in the USA by chance."

The United States has been their home for more than twenty years. A home in which she has assimilated. A self-confident young woman who immediately stands out with her extroverted backcombed hair. Just like with her clothes. Colourful textiles, which are not African, but remind from afar of the colourful costumes of their homeland. Alsarah is well aware of her origins, even more so: her origins are an essential part of her music. "Sometimes you leave your homeland voluntarily, sometimes you have to flee. Sometimes you plan to come back. Sometimes you don't know if you're going to see all your friends and loved ones again. But one thing I do know: I don't want to forget them, and I don't want to be forgotten [by them]."



Reise durch Afrika

"Salam Nubia" is the program and at the same time the musical image of the whole album. Clear, catchy vocal melodies, fast rhythms, atmospheric, a short instrumental part. All 14 songs are designed in this or a similar way. An exception are the three short interludes; they turn "Manara" into a river. The album is designed to be heard as a whole. Although it has no radio play character, various small soundscapes make one think of a walk through African markets, of hikes through villages and towns. "Alforag" with its clattering percussions and accordion is ingratiating, "Albahr" sounds like Wild West in African, "3yan T3ban" with its deep bass groove is hypnotic, a weird instrumental part misses "Ya Watan" the icing on the cake, while "Nar" first begins quietly, then rocks brashly, only to end like a drone at the end.

Alsarah herself describes her music as "East-Africa Retro Pop". The term "retro", however, does not quite fit in view of its modern freshness. "Contemporary music doesn't necessarily have to be techno or played on electronic instruments," Alsarah says. "Some people think traditional music is something old-fashioned. It doesn't have to be. I'm trying to give her a live-cell cure." She's right about that. Their music, including that of their debut "Silt", refers to the Afro-Soul of the sixties and seventies, which sought its model in the West. The harmony with the African instruments results in this feverish, exotic melange.

Zwiti

Boston was Alsarah's first stop in the USA. There she studied comparative musicology at Wesleyan University. "The early days were hard for the whole family. We had to get rid of the trauma first. But it also made me strong. I realized how lucky I was to escape all things in Sudan and Yemen. Others were less fortunate." After graduating in 2004, she moved to New York, where she still lives today.

Music has always been her companion, starting with bootleg cassettes in Yemen. "Music was my home, my way of expressing myself, my way of getting to know the world. She showed me that everyone has a culture that defines them. That's why I always come back to African sounds."

Alsarah's band The Nubatones consists not only of Sudanese musicians. Percussionist Rami El-Aasser is an American with Egyptian roots, bassist Mawuena Kodjovi comes from Togo, Haig Manoukian, who can be heard on "Silt" on the Oud and died shortly after the release, from Armenia.

Alsarah's musical career began with El-Aasser. Together they played Zanzibar love songs from the 1940s to the 1970s, discussed African music, cultural exchange and shared migration experiences. The idea for Alsarah And The Nubatones was born at this stage. 2013 saw the release of the collaborative album "Aljwal" with the French producer Débruit and participation in the debut of the Nile Project, followed by their own record debut in 2014. On YouTube you can find official videos of "Silt". Simple, aesthetic images of a Sudanese woman who has arrived at the Big Apple.

Her voice, the African melodies and the many percussions are the trademarks of the new album "Manara". But the New York musician Brandon Terzic relies on the African plucked instruments Oud and Ngoni as highlights. Especially with the oud he shapes the sound, puts shimmering solos into the short instrumental passages. In the melancholic title song he knows how to convince at the Ngoni, in "Eroos Elneel" it is again the Oud and the canon-like, polyphonic singing, while "Asilah" appears casual and romantic at the same time. "Manara" is a multi-layered album. It offers not only African flair, not only grooves to bounce along and melodies to sing along. It also contains many small pearls, which you have to dive for with alert senses.

"I feel first and foremost as an immigrant. The band is a melting pot of immigrants. We all come from different regions, and that makes up a large part of us," sums up the singer. "African music has undergone a revival in recent years. Generally, I think that Africa belongs to the future and that there may be a renaissance in art and music there." In this sense Alsarah spreads its mixture of at least two cultures. She is admired and celebrated during her performances, be it in Dubai or Kenya. For spring she is planning a tour through Europe.

*** Bernd Sievers