Pitchfork
77
Guinea’s state-sponsored record label Editions Syliphone Conakry closed permanently in 1984, with the death of President Ahmed Sékou Touré. The economic, cultural, and political situation in the newly independent African country had been sliding downward since the mid-'70s, but at one point the label had been a beacon for the country. Sékou Touré, perceiving that creating a strong national identity for the one-time French colony hinged on developing its culture, established a record label and a national radio station, distributing instruments to citizens and funding bands. The imperative was for the young nation of Guineans to create the voice of a new Africa.
The sound that Syliphone promoted was an astonishing, elegant blend, embracing old Guinean folk music as well as newly heard Cuban music (by way of the Congo) and American jazz bands, all under the banner of "authenticité". In an ideal world, proponents of small government and shuttered arts programs might hear the twinkling, beguiling music rendered by Guinea bands like Bembeya Jazz National, Jardin De Guinée, Balla et Ses Balladins and be charmed into state sponsorship of the arts so as to "Make (insert country) Great Again." By 1976, Guinea was in turmoil, with a failed assassination plot on Sékou Touré, and detention of political dissenters. Some of the strongest music from Syliphone predates this struggle, but that's part of what makes Musique Sans Paroles (translation: Music Without Words), released that same year, such a jewel: Amid increasing unrest, Sans Paroles serves as an oasis.
This compilation documents some of the label’s lesser known acts: Only one of them, alto saxophonist Momo Wandel, has more than one release to his name. Given the turmoil of Guinea, it’s likely that many of these groups never got the chance to record again. Opening band Sombory Jazz most closely resembles the flagship acts of the imprint, the rhythm shuffling between African polyrhythms and Cuban rhumba without quite settling. The horn work evokes comparison to Bembeya Jazz National, the guitar solo imbued with that rippling, eddying guitar tone so prevalent in the era, liquid and psychedelic at once. But from there, Sans Paroles explores little-heard wrinkles. Wandel’s "Tam-Tam Sax" emulates Cameroonian saxophonist Manu Dibango but with squawks that bring to mind spiritual jazz players like Pharoah Sanders and Archie Shepp.
Each song shows a stylistic shift. The seldom-recorded Quintette Guinéenne does a rhythm & blues number on "Douga", while "Flute Parlante" is as close as the album gets to words. Highlighting solo flute, it brings to mind the recordings that the old Folkways Records used to document. The highlight is Quintette Guinéenne’s second contribution, "Massane Cissé". A Griot thought to date back to the 12th-13th century, it exemplifies Sékou Touré’s mission to update his country’s traditions in the new century. Between the extended guitar solo and battery of percussion, it brings to mind the exploratory psychedelic rock happening across the Atlantic Ocean. Trio Papa Kouyaté, named and propelled by Miriam Makeeba’s longtime conga player, offers up two nimble acoustic numbers with Kouyaté shadowed by stand-up bass and acoustic guitar. Kouyaté’s conga playing hints at Arsenio Rodriguez’s groups of the 1950s. Close your eyes and the capital of Conakry starts to turn into downtown Havana. Or, in the case of "Massane Cissé", the epicenter of San Francisco a decade prior.
Fri May 27 00:00:00 GMT 2016