Jupiter Bokondji has been everywhere and knows everyone. A native of Kinshasa in the Democratic Republic of Congo, he spent his teenage years in Berlin where his father was a diplomat, immersing himself in psych, rock, pop and soul in the West, before returning to his birthplace as a near adult to immerse himself in the rich musical traditions of central Africa. Na Kozonga attests to the breadth of his experience and interest; it is as African as can be, but very much a rock album.
Consider, for instance, the cover “Na Kozonga” whose title translates as “Going Home.” It’s a loose cover of the 1973 German pop chestnut, “Hallo Bimmelbahn,” by the band Nighttrain, whose brief career must have been in full swing when Bokondji was enrolled in a Berlin secondary school. It’s a relic of Bokondji’s time away in that sense, and it swaggers with the kind of power-chord punctuated, hands-in-the-air 1970s rock and soul empowerment that Sly and the Family Stone took to its zenith. And yet, though, Bokondji sings most of it in German and hews to the melody laid down by the Huth brothers in the original, the song runs hotter, rougher and altogether more exciting than the original. The surging communal positivity of vocal interplay, the intricate percussion, the Sam & Dave style soul climaxes, the wigged out keyboard solo near the end, all lift it up and away from its source, towards something more exotic and powerful and deeply felt. It’s a song getting off the plane after a long time away, feeling a blast of heat and being undeniably home.
Bokondji works with a broad and diverse array of artists on Na Kozonga, starting with producer Mario Caldato, a Brazilian best known for his work with the Beastie Boys. You imagine that Caldato probably brought in Marcelo D2 for “Telejayi.” Caldato and Rio-based hip hop star have worked together before, honing a blend of rap and samba that mirrors, in a lot of ways, Jupiter & Okwess’ powerful blend of pop rock and African tradition. Likewise Chilean singer and rapper Ana Tijoux, on “Mieux Que Ça” (“Better Than This”) makes perfect sense; she is as fiery and modern and politically engaged as Bokondji himself. (Soul Coughing’s Mike Doughty is a less obvious choice, but it’s a very big tent that Bokondji pitches.)
The best meeting of minds, however, comes late in the album, when the six person Okwess band is augmented by New Orleans’ Preservation Hall Jazz Band in “Abalegele Gale.” The two bands met at the New Orleans Jazz Festival, got a chance to jam and found something worth pursuing, a squall of Dixieland horns and clarinet that peel off into chaotic joy out of the songs’ very African fluidity, warmth and sway. It’s a reminder that all music is just that, music, and that bonds can be forged across continents and styles, just by letting things rip.
