Music is all about context. Listening to the studio recording of your favourite artist is very different from listening to a live performance, and the story behind a piece of music often enhances your experience of it. I often find myself craving more context for the music I enjoy, which is why I enjoy writing this blog. It’s also what draws me to this piece of music—a collaboration between UK bassist Huw Bennett and esteemed Gambian griots and other West African musicians. The infusion of the Gambian context through field recording brings to life the scenes described in the music.
Background
In 2013, UK bassist and producer Huw Bennett travelled to Gambia with the intention of learning the balafon, a xylophone-like West African instrument that uses gourds for resonance. He ended up playing bass in a local band with members of the Susso family, a legendary dynasty of griots and traditional oral historians, and was also introduced to the similarly esteemed Kuyateh family. With no initial intention of making an album, Bennett began to record everything using his handheld audio recorder—conversations, cars, sounds on the street and, of course, the music.
The people and musicians he recorded are mostly the Mandinka people, one of Gambia’s largest ethnic groups. Their heritage traces back to the Mali Empire of the 13th century, and they inhabit many West African countries such as Senegal, Mali, Guinea, and Gambia. As an oral society, their history, knowledge, and mythology are all preserved through the generations by way of griots and other traditional figures. These griots are often not only musicians, but historians, storytellers, and poets too.
A few years later, Bennett used his skill as a multi-instrumentalist and producer to collaborate with local West African musicians and create a fusion of traditional Mandinka music, found sound, and South London beat and jazz. The result is Keira (Peace), a sensitive balance of tradition and rhythm, where the lines between studio and found sounds is blurred.
What it means to me
I have a great love for field recording. Photos often steal the spotlight when it comes to capturing memories, but a sound recording carries something else entirely different. Where a photo is a snapshot, a moment frozen in time, a sound recording is alive.
Capturing sounds and using them in music is one of the easiest ways to give context to the listener and link back to a time, place, or emotion. Even arbitrary sounds we hear each day—a door closing, a washing machine churning, people chatting—carry weight and significance. For instance, I can instantly recognise the sound of the front door of my childhood home, and hearing it again would bring back so many memories.
This is why I love using field recordings and found sound in my own music. In a recent track of mine, “Home“, I used the audio from videos of my childhood to try and capture the feeling I get when I think back to those days.
What to listen for
The opening of “Ansumana“ is played on a kora, and incorporates a recorded Muslim chant. The ride cymbal and eventual full drum kit inject some Western sound, but the main beat is undeniably West African, incorporating the driving beats of the Kutiro drum.
I love the way Bennett merges the field and studio recordings to create this seamless music experience in which we’re transported into an imaginary live performance on the sun-drenched, dusty streets of Gambia.
Suggested listening activity
What’s the most interesting sound you can hear right now? In my apartment, my one radiator clicks when it cools down, and then proceeds to emit a resounding CLANG as the metal changes shape.
This album is soo good. Great pick