REVIEW: Future Psychediscorama With Koko Dozo's Illegal Space Aliens
sounni ali
By Mark Kirby, MusicDish e-Journal
One night several years ago at an Irish pub in the East Village of New
York City, the discussion of music turned to disco. It involved
musicians and people over 40 years-old, people who might know what
they're talking about. Several 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.
Now a guy walked into the bar - no, this is not a joke, this is true -
leans over and asks Nancy, the bartender, to put on a CD he brought.
He had a box set called 100 Disco Hits and wanted to hear it. She put
it on over a few protests and by the third cut half the bar was up
dancing. "This s**t is great, what were we thinkin'?" What were we
thinking? The cuts that he played -- "Boogie Nights," "Disco Lady,"
"Ain't No Stoppin' 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 many of the songs that turned off the young
cynic back in the day -- and I was one of them -- now sound like
musical versions of the politics of hope. Besides the quality of the
music and the infusion of beer and liquor, these cuts stood out
because the party music of today consists of desperate, vapid consumer
fantasies "sung" over prepackaged, overly mechanized "music." From
Justin Timberlake to Mariah Carey, this is what dance music is all
about. Like rap agitators Public Enemy asked back in the '90's "who
stole the soul?"
These memories and thoughts came to mind while listening to Koko
Dozo's new CD Illegal Space Aliens. The band members present
themselves as bizarro characters. Chief producer Polarity/1, who
created the beats and sounds that make the backbone of the music,
dresses like a pro wrestling manager who is channeling Sun Ra. Though
using synthesizer sounds, drum machines, and synth bass, his music has
a distinctive, organic quality, a certain 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 out 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 image and electronic
sounds, the music on Illegal Space Aliens is rooted in the organic
soil of the disco, funk and soul of a bygone era.
The CD starts with dense electronic sounds that morph into a groove
consisting of bass, a looped piano chord, and a beat made of these
dense sounds, on the opening cut "Second Time." Amy Douglas brings
flesh and soul to this cyborg of a song. With musical experience
covering punk cabaret, funk with George Clinton and down-home jazz
with Illinois Jacquet, she has the pipes. She also has the musicality
and taste to do it just 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 don't care /
smash your face on the dance floor / put your kicks in the air / wave
it some more put your f****n' face on the dance floor." The song
grooves along with interesting musical riffs and keyboard counter
melodies, as Douglas goes off. The backup group female voices come
back and the song's next verse comes in. These little touches elevate
this and other songs on the CD above average, boring house and dance
music. You can dig this music without drugs or dancing.
Some of the album's cuts resemble the classic disco of the'70's and
'80's. "Boomchi" has that signature four-on-the-floor drum beat,
offbeat funk bass lick, and soulful strings. The vocals come in like
Chic's classic "Good Times." Busting out in Spanish, Douglas lets fly
some wailing diva vocal blasts. The song'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
more mechanical rhythms. "Shine" is in this mold, but the piano licks
and, once again, Douglas' voice gives the song a human face: "Shine a
light / I need to know that I'm alive / Shine a light / guide 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 jam "Down." This features sweet lead and
backup vocals, as well as chords that move and glide in an extended
middle part that seems to drift away. Then, from silence, the song
starts up with vocals that remind one of soul diva's like 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 Morricone'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 new trend. This should
also be an example of how to make dance music that is intelligent and
cool, not dumbed down to the level of morons in too-tight $90
designer jeans.