In 2018, my wife asked what I wanted for Father’s Day. Inspired by Joe Strummer’s London Calling radio series and Anthony Bourdain’s traveling curiosity, I said that I wanted to do a weekly 30-minute music podcast dedicated to fighting Xenophobia by exploring music from all around the world. So I created the Global Elite Music Radio Podcast Supershow. Each week, I posted a 30-minute show with songs from around the world, along with an interactive map. I discovered so much music from around the world that my ears have forever grown beyond the boundaries of my neighborhood.
Though I no longer regularly curate the podcast, I often find myself wanting to post special episodes when I come across music I wish everyone could hear. I had such an experience in 2021 upon hearing Wau Wau Collectif’s debut Yaral Sa Doom. In fact, that album was one of the main reasons I brought the project out of hiatus for a special 53rd episode. Yaral Sa Doom blurred borders and genres and held my attention for a very long time. In fact, I return to it quite a bit still (and just a side-note, you can always trust Sahel Sounds. If you see it on their label, buy it.)
Now the Collectif collective is back with their second album, “Marriage.” Wau Wau Collectif is a long distance collaboration from musicians in Senegal and Sweden’s Karl Jonas Winqvist. The must-read Pan-African-Music (PAM) interview describes the project:
“The outcome of an encounter between the Swedish musician-producer Karl Jonas Winqvist and musicians from the Toubab Dialaw village in Senegal, this collective recording, which evolved through jam sessions and WhatsApp exchanges, represents a strange vessel that traverses the Mediterranean soundscape.”
Both albums incorporate children vocalists and the effect is one that elicits child-like innocence and exploration; a world where we get to know others through music. Where Xenophobia is unthinkable because curiosity, respect and admiration win the day. Children are taught borders. Wau Wau Collectif wants to help us erase them. The music is not forceful; it draws you in. It is not in a hurry but it is persistent and it seems to constantly unite disparate elements. Deep, weary voices with a children’s refrain; floating flutes over insistent basslines; traditional and electronic instruments. This is music that brings it all together, because it all belongs together.
The group’s music is often light and airy. Pitchfork notes of the band’s 2021 debut: “It takes less than a minute for Yaral Sa Doom to begin levitating.” But this second album finds the collectif still levitating but grounded by thick bass (Baye Kate). The album draws from hip hop and electronics and once again, children.
Jesse Locke notes that some of the rhythms that laid the foundation for Marriage were actually recorded “during Winqvist's 2018 Senegal trip that ignited the project.” Winqvist told PAM: “We recorded so much material and me and Aruna sent overdubs, ideas and new songs to each other up till last week, so the songs on Yaral Sa Doom ended up on that album because they were ready first. But there were just as many other songs waiting and almost finished”
Marriage materializes with the floating instrumental “La Paix Du Senegal (Instrumental)” which ushers in the album with a sense of warmth and welcome, of mesmerizing rhythms and shuffles. The instrumentation builds and lets you know that this album may contain folk songs, it’s not a subdued “folk” album. As if there was any question, the deep bass and passionate rhymes of “Baye Kate” let us know that this is listening as exploration. This is music as joy, as protest, as life. The mix of electronic and traditional instrumentation continues throughout the album with the fierce flute of Mariage Forcé weaving in and around the vocals. The space jazz odyssey of Yay Balma skronky uses sax floating over grounded repetition while swirling psychedelic flutes hold on to our attention. The murky dub vibe of Yonou Natangue never gets so foggy that the light fails to shine through. Once again, floating flue melodies raise the ear to something higher . . . until the ethers coalesce . . . the space jazz odyssey of Yay Balma places skronky sax over grounded repetition and more floating flutes. There’s the driving Afrobeat rhythm of Nécessaire balanced by the etheral Pitchou Goudibi. This is music of movement, of emotion, and of life. There are ups and downs, reflective moments and moments to dance. For everything there is a time.
Swimming in deep grooves and folk flourishes, there is an urgency to this music. This is music connecting the spheres . . . bridging the here and now with the hope of what if . . . the urgency of why not now? And throughout both albums, the vocals cross the ages. Children are always near, whether in the playful nature of the music itself or their reappearing vocals; sometimes as accents, sometimes as the focus. This is music of community. Winqvist says: “Since our first album, ”Yaral sa doom” (means ”educate the young” in wolof) was a dedication and prayer to all the young ones growing up in this world now I felt the need to also bring them into our recordings.”
Marriage picks up where Yaral Sa Doom left off. And, though it is obvious that the genesis material often overlaps, the two albums stand as distinct explorations, each exploring similar territory but from different angles and with different questions and, quite often, finding different things. Wau Wau Collectif reminds us of the joy of music, and hopefully the joy of life that is worth fighting for. Here’s a good starting point for your soundtrack.
