“A fulfilment of the late Simon Emmerson’s life and work“. The words of Afro Celt Sound System and indisputably the truth.

Release Date: 4th October 2024

Label: Six Degrees Records

Format: CD / digital

others may follow

I remember exactly the moment I first stumbled on Afro Celt Soundsystem, it being around 1997, at my brother-in-law’s: he the lover of electronica, me the folkie. Minutes into his playing me Volume 1: Sound Magic, I was hooked, unable to believe the alchemy, the fusion and the passion, as African met Irish, in a techno explosion of sheer joy.

So, it was with some considerable grief I took on board the demise, last year, of the man behind the band, Simon Emmerson. And not just behind, at the front, beaming like a loon as he thrashed his acoustic guitar, pate shiny with sweat, whilst all the wonder went on beside him. Afro Celt Sound System were a righteous sight to behold, never failing to bring a crowd to their feet, the mainstay of many a festival roster. Others have tried to follow, none meeting and matching his and their exacting standards.

Simon Emmerson

maintaining the legacy

Were, did I say? Of course the Afro Celts have not ceased to be, being hell-bent on maintaining his legacy, knowing that was to be his wish. And this album, number eight, is altogether part of that, drawn from works he was integrally involved in the making of, ahead his death, with two original members continuing to fly the flag, along with a host of later established members. Plus, as ever, the odd surprise guest, in this case, the return of Iarla O Lionaird, singer for the first couple or so of albums, to add his velvet whisper of a voice.

why ova?

Ova, the album, starts with it’s longest track, the Hawk Owl’s Lament. But before that, why Ova? Ova is loosely their logo, with an intertwined O, V and A, which, in one form or another, has graced each of their albums. It is short for ovate, a druidic term, Emmerson associated with the movement.

The Hawk Owl is a a large bird of northern climes, across Europe, Asia and North America. Starting slow, with captured owl song, via The Sound Approach, who specialise in natural sounds, and scattered cascades of kora, the track meanders through it’s time allotted, with both every sense of direction and none, the joy of merely being present, with the mood evocative of a forest at dawn. Electronic and organic meet in a tone poem of largely sonic textures, until, after some tribal drums and a pulse of low bass enter the fray, N’Faly Kouyaté starts to sing. One of the two band originals, the other Johnny Kalsi, there is a sense he is palpably taking the reins. It slowly subsides into a patter of percussion, from Kalsi, and all is as it ought.

The Mantra begins with scratchy Eastern sounding fiddle, from Mànran man Ewen Henderson, before the clear and hypnotic vocal of Ríoghnach Connolly breaks through, some repeating choral chants acting as ballast. Dubby bass, from Richard Evans, together with his usual co-pilot, Ged Lynch, on drums, both from Peter Gabriel’s touring band, adds some broody stealth. Kouyaté then adds his voice to the mix, with a call to, well, something. You’d obey, regardless. The band may have lost some of their frenetic dance FX, but this low register force field more than makes up for that.

pure africa

Spoken word and electronica lurch Magical Love into being, it swiftly breaking into a chant driven piece that evokes some of the style of Toby Marks’ Banco de Gaia. This song, written and partly sung by Connolly, in English, partly by Djekoria Fanta Condé and Kouyaté, in Fula, is a treatise on the power of the female. I can see this being a vital spot within the live set, and a central focus. This is followed by N’Fady Foly, an ode to fresh water, in which Kouyaté and Kalsi brew up a veritable mandinka, perhaps the purest African sound the band have yet played, with the bouncy sound of balafon throughout.. (I hadn’t realised the idea of ACSS came to Emmerson during his production of a Baaba Maal album, which explains a lot.)

fusion returns

Le Paix brings back the fusion, as a fiddle navigates about a bluesy acoustic guitar. If I am not mistaken, it is Griogair Labhruidh vocalising wordlessly, ahead and behind some spoken French. Almost a samba rhythm propels this one and it draws the listener in around the swaying beats. Some lovely stand up bass slinks through this one, too. A pleasing cacophony of African drums, bodhran, balafon and electronic beats introduce the first sound of uillean pipes, Matt Bashford, for Radio Ronza, a typical example of how this mélange mixes best. It is Robbie Morris on bodhran, here and throughout. Once more, the pace is less frantic than previously, allowing a greater differentiation of the component parts, which, as this ends with further fiddle, could make this track be the Lovers Of Light of this set.

Brid Barn offers some glorious grouped female vocals over vibrating bass and kora, the dub aspect once more rising up through the mix, with flutes and whistle then picking up the instrumental middle section, with further kora. AM is then maybe the most “electronic” track, beginning with a skittering keyboard, over which O Lionaird first intones a few words, in Gaelic, before launching his soaring singing voice. Simon “Mass” Massey is responsible for the majority of the programming on this record and is, with Emmerson, the co-producer. As such, along with Kouyaté and Kalsi, he and the late Emmerson are credited as being the core band.

african reggae

As if released by the last track, it is Massey’s bubbling synth that is all over Bâdji Kan Wali, countered by kora, before it limbers up into the tempo of skipping children, pipes askirl in the background. Almost African reggae, courtesy Evans’ bass, I am minded of Alpha Blondy, once the lead vocal and choral backdrop kick in. It is also on this track that Kalsi lets rip on his dhol. If any doubt were present, this nails the authority of the brand, but is a track that belies its exuberant swagger. It was written, as a warning, by Kouyaté, after his niece and daughter were drowned, trying to get to Europe, by boat.

lockdown revisited

Glitchy Fiddles is just that, as Henderson’s fiddle play gets cut and plastered into an angular reel, over talking drums and synth. Cello from Barney Morse-Brown chugs away underneath with snippets of electric guitar beamed in and out. It’s quirky and very Shooglenifty. I like. Which leaves only the closer, The Lockdown Reel. Yes, that lockdown, and this is a track that completists may be aware, it having appeared on Sounds Like Knockengorroch, an album of the artists due to appear at that Scottish festival in 2020, cancelled for the reason obvious, it becoming instead a virtual festival.

It really is a lockdown product, with the ten members of the band putting it all together remotely. Based on a fiddle figure from Peter Tickell, who plays on it, it is a terrific triumph of remote technology, each member dialling in from all parts the globe. (Literally; Kouyaté was in Guinea for that duration!) It becomes essence of Afro Celt. If you listen to nothing else listen/download/steal this one. (No, second thoughts and no joke, don’t steal it.) Best of all, buy the album at a gig!

more afro less celt

This album feels a return to core Afro Celt territory. If there is maybe more Afro and less Celt, there is still plenty of each. Irrespective the many and obvious reasons, this first new recording for six years points a way for the music again to become central. For a while it has felt the spectacle, the on-stage celebration, was the dominant force. Which isn’t to diminish that aspect, but the tunes were becoming secondary. This brings the two separate aspects back into step, with the forthcoming tour hopefully amplifying that very point. Is it the bottom of the Emmerson vaults? Who knows, and, as we discovered here, he had a whole lot other irons glowing in his fire, other projects only now seeing the light of day. And that is quite exciting.

Here is the Lockdown Reel:

Afro Celt Soundsystem online: Website / Facebook / X (formerly Twitter) / Instagram

Keep up with At The Barrier: Facebook / X (formerly Twitter) / Instagram / Spotify / YouTube