Following in the footsteps of Boukman Eksperyans and company, Chouk Bwa have sought out international ears for mizik rasin, or roots music, Haiti\u2019s own vernacular of African polyrhythms and choral vocals. They do so in no small part to better represent the real face of the vodou faith, and the reality of daily life in Haiti, the ups as surely as the downs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The sextet is pyramidal in structure, with leader Jean-Claude \u201cSambaton\u201d Dorvil flanked by support singers Maloune Pr\u00e9valy and Ed\u00e8le \u201cSasufi\u201d Joseph, the three in turn backed by singer-drummers Gomez Henris, Sadrack Merzier, and Jean Rigaud Aimable. The dynamic certainly seems to work for them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Since 2016, they\u2019ve partnered with The \u00c5ngstr\u00f6mers, the Brussels-based pairing of Nicolas Esterle and Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Alstadt, who direct their raw, analog electronics and dub distortions towards enriching and expanding Chouk Bwa\u2019s sound.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The attention-grabbing title track, which opens the album, is as close as the collaborators get to the familiar and tiresome ethno-techno template, though saying so is doing it a disservice. Only on the low-key, funky instrumental \u201cKay Marasa Dub\u201d do the Belgians really assert themselves. It\u2019s promptly followed by \u201cPeleren\u201d with Dorvil a cappella, supplemented by no more than the sounds of nature and his sonorous f\u00e8, the bandleader\u2019s commanding iron bar-gong (he\u2019s then off on a bit of a Fela Kuti kick on the grand \u201cNegriye\u201d, but that\u2019s another story).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The \u00c5ngstr\u00f6mers\u2019 gently hallucinatory flourishes are ever present, but never an impediment to Chouk Bwa\u2019s potent expressions. In brief, a study not in contrasts, refreshingly, but in creative cooperation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n