Baba Commandant and the Mandingo Band hail from the Republic of Burkina Faso and specialize in a vibrant strain of elevated groove science that should excite anyone stirred up by the pulse of prime Afro-beat. Their third album eschews trend-hopping, and yet the relentless energy reinforces the contemporary reality of the set’s seven tracks. Sonbonbela is dedicated to the memory of their bass player Massimbo Taragna, who sadly passed in early 2022 (RIP), with the vinyl out October 21 through Sublime Frequencies of Seattle, Washington.
While extending the Afro-beat impulse, Baba Commandant and the Mandingo Band further integrate that durable sound with the traditional West African style known as Mandingue. It’s a connection reinforced in the band’s name and made explicit through the use of trad instruments, e.g. the balafon, a gourd-resonated xylophone, and the Doso Ngoni, a traditional West African guitar.
The group consists of ace guitarist Issouf Diabate, bassist Wendeyida Ouedraogo, drummer Abbas Kabore, percussionist and balafon player Nickie Dembele, and on the Doso Hgoni, Mamadou Sanou, the Baba Commandant himself, whose exquisite vocals bring the icing to this delectable cake. Even with a new bassist in the fold, the delivery is seamless as the band focus on infectious forward motion. Or put another way, this is dance music.
Indeed, Sonbonbela is smart, multifaceted dance music, as the band deftly interweaves complexity and heat. On the subject of the complex, the rhythms and the melodic patterns here remind me of something the late writer Donald Barthelme once said about another late writer John Hawkes: that his sentences were “splendidly not simple.”
And on the topic of heat, Baba Commandant and the band never get tripped up emphasizing how tight they are, which is frankly a problem that afflicts far too many US and European outfits who’ve either fallen under the spell of the Afro-beat impulse, or are just groove-inclined in general. In fact, the music on Sonbonbela flows so sweetly that tightness kinda feels like in inapt descriptor.
However, I don’t want to suggest that the band makes it all sound easy here. To the contrary, the intricacy and the energy underscore the high level of collective commitment, as the combined experience ensures an adroit touch that gets sustained throughout the record. Nary is there a perceptible sense of strain; the band does work up a sweat (establishing unity with those who will inevitably perspire while gyrating to Sonbonbela), but it’s with the grace of a great gymnast or point guard on the basketball court.
I thought about mentioning marathon runners, but that’s not really an appropriate comparison, as the group hones tidier lengths on Sonbonbela; nothing on the record breaks six minutes and three tracks wrap it up in under five. This allows for the display of some crucial range, as the varied approach helps to keep matters interesting for those seated in a chair by the stereo rather than tearing it up on the dancefloor.
But really, all great dance music works on a deeper level than merely spurring the movement of bodies: think about The Skatalites, James Brown’s JB’s, Gorgio Moroder, New Order, ESG, and the myriad maestros of electronica. One can throw Fela and the whole Afro-beat shebang in there, as well. Sonbonbela finds Baba Commandant and the Mandingo Band pushing Afro-beat forward with aplomb. As said, it’s splendidly not simple.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
