Future Psychediscorama With Koko Dozo's Unlawful Space Aliens
Brothers and a Sister From Another Planet
By Mark Kirby, MusicDish e-Journal
One nightfall indefinite years ago at an Irish pub in the East Village of Fresh York City, the argument of music turned to disco. It involved musicians and people over 40 years-old, clan who might know what theyā re talking about. Distinct of us were, in the heyday of Studio 54 and the disco era, into punk rock. Others of us were -- me especially -- strictly jazz heads. I reminded my friend of lonely nights in college smoking out of a four-foot bong and listening to Zappa and John Coltrane and wondering how to meet girls. They were at the campus disco parties, while we were above it all. And alone, getting in touch with ourselves.
Momentarily a guy walked into the bar - no, this is not a joke, this is true - leans over and asks Nancy, the bartender, to levy on a Disc he brought. He had a box establish called 100 Disco Hits and wanted to hear it. She settle it on over a infrequent protests and by the third shorten half the bar was up dancing. "This s**t is great, what were we thinkinā ?" What were we thinking? The cuts that he played -- "Boogie Nights," "Disco Lady," "Ainā t No Stoppinā Us Now" -- were all songs with soul power. Killer musicians, great singers, and songwriters that had some skills were at work on these gems. So lousy with of the songs that turned off the girlish cynic back in the lifetime -- and I was one of them -- now sound cognate musical versions of the politics of hope. Also the element of the bop and the infusion of ale and liquor, these cuts stood out thanks to the class harmonization of today consists of desperate, vapid consumer fantasies "sung" over prepackaged, overly mechanized "music." From Justin Timberlake to Mariah Carey, this is what dance rhythm is all about. Passion rap agitators Common Enemy asked back in the ā 90's "who stole the soul?"
These memories and thoughts came to mind while listening to Koko Dozoā s different CD Illegal Space Aliens. The band members in process themselves as bizarro characters. Chief producer Polarity/1, who created the beats and sounds that conceive the spine of the music, dresses enjoy a pro wrestling boss who is channeling Sun Ra. Though using synthesizer sounds, drum machines, and synth bass, his classical has a distinctive, biological quality, a persuaded freshness and vitality. Rubio -- the self-described "multi-brained, Viking, Satanic wizard"; complete with Viking helmet and wizardly robe -- provides funky, jazzy keyboards that flesh absent and add spice and musicality to the grooves. Singer Amy Douglas, the "Inter-Galactic Empress," looks like a grown up Punky Brewster turned dominatrix from Brooklyn by way of worlds beyond. But for all the outer spaceness of their carbon copy and electronic sounds, the piece on Illegal Extent Aliens is rooted in the organic earth of the disco, funk and soul of a bygone era.
The CD starts with laborious electronic sounds that morph into a groove consisting of bass, a looped piano chord, and a beat mythical of these dense sounds, on the opening chop "Second Time." Amy Douglas brings flesh and soul to this cyborg of a song. With musical contact covering punk cabaret, funk with George Clinton and down-home jazz with Illinois Jacquet, she has the pipes. She further has the musicality and taste to do it fair-minded right. "Face on the Dance Floor" starts with disembodied female voices and a vocal loop of laughs. A house beat kicks in and Douglas busts out with a Donna Summers-like vocal blast: "You know you got that face... hold your face on the dance floor / wave your feet in the air / make us believe that you donā t care / smash your face on the dance floor / put your kicks in the air / wave it some more put your f****nā face on the dance floor." The song grooves along with interesting harmonious riffs and keyboard counter melodies, as Douglas goes off. The backup group female voices come back and the songā s adjoining verse comes in. These little touches elevate this and other songs on the CD above average, dull house and dance music. You can dig this ragtime without drugs or dancing.
Some of the albumā s cuts resemble the classic disco of theā 70's and ā 80's. "Boomchi" has that signature four-on-the-floor drum beat, offbeat funk bass lick, and soulful strings. The vocals come in akin Chicā s classic "Good Times." Busting gone in Spanish, Douglas lets fly some wailing diva vocal blasts. The songā s break down features bass drum, breathy, chanting vocals, and an over-the-top spew in Spanglish by Rubio. Euro disco brought in the dominance of synthesizers and augmented mechanical rhythms. "Shine" is in this mold, on the contrary the piano licks and, once again, Douglasā cry gives the song a human face: "Shine a clear / I obligation to know that Iā m alive / Shine a cloudless / design me to your secret side / give me breath that can revive."
Koko Dozo mines other types of music, particularly the expansive side of soul and funk, on the slow conserve "Down." This features saccharine edge and backup vocals, as hardy as chords that motion and glide in an extended centre department that seems to drift away. Then, from silence, the song starts up with vocals that remind one of soul divaā s allying Chaka Khan. "D.C. Whore" combines political satire and discordant, complex funk. "Fulano de Tai" is dirge-like, with music that evokes the image of an emotional desert and recalls one of Ennio Morriconeā s more psychedelic soundtracks.
One of the strengths of Illegal Space Aliens, and my regular readers please forgive me, is that there are nine choice cuts on this record. No fluff, just a statement. This should be the advanced trend. This should also be an model of how to make dance popular that is intelligent and cool, not dumbed down to the alike of morons in too-tight $90 designer jeans.