From seventies Guinea-Bissau, a captivating, poignant blend of anti-colonial militancy and the knot of homesickness, regret, loss and melancholy at the heart of saudade. Sung in Guinean Kriol, and reviving traditional musical genres like Gumbé, lavished with jazz, Latin, funk and general dancefloor nous, José & Cobiana Djazz went down a storm nationally, hugely influencing local bands like Super Mama Djombo, and hailed by giants like Orchestra Baobab, Letta Mbulu and Miriam Makeba (with whom Zé Carlos recorded his only solo album).
Lua Ki Di Nos, The Moon Is Ours, is a mixture of thumping, blistering high-life, with burning horns and mesmerising guitar lines, for dancing, and sublime, swaying, moodily contemplative body-rockers. The mournful Na Kolonia, for example, is knockout. Locked up for his politics on Ilha das Galinhas, a few miles off the coast of Bissau, the singer wonders what has become of his friends. ‘Where is Sara? Back at the colony. Where is Saidu? Back at the colony. Uncle Malam, tell them not to cry, not to suffer. One day we’ll be back in Bissau, a day that is slow to arrive. Our brothers from Bissau, don’t forget about us. If you think that we’re dead, we haven’t died, we’re waiting here.’
Ace.