New talent: Rainbow Arabia
Without resorting to quoting Edward Said and becoming overly preachy the concept of "world music" has always been a retarded and unarguably flawed one and in 2008 a number of artists did an amazing job at proving just why this is. Of course some, but definitely not all, did this with more panache than Paul Simon and resisted the easy temptation to spew forth his particular brand of see-thru, self satisfied Benetton soul to sound like the genuine real deal. Gang Gang Dance, who took the flame in their hands from well travelled sonic adventurers The Pop Group and ran with it to become the potential architects of this new sound returned in a kaleidoscopic shitstorm of Sublime Frequencies polyrhythm's, obtuse techno and shamanic vocalisms, amazingly and quite unexpectedly whipping grime star Tinchy Stryder up into the mix with them, to create their best album to date. On a similar journey traversing Paper Rad deserts with post punk squall were Rainbow Arabia and Nomo gathered in a circle and pounded away on anything they could get their hands on in an evocation of Anansie inspired astral funk, hands deep in the dirt, eyes fixed at the stars. The Big Pink partied like it was the mid '80s and they were signed to Creation Records - think not of Oasis but of Jesus & Mary Chain at their strung out and aimlessly noisy best. San Franciscans Mi Ami created a transcendental racket of broken bone psychedelia whilst their soul sister and purveyor of fine forestry funk 51717 was responsible for one of the more audacious covers to emerge in the last twelve months totally gutting out a silky disco soul classic by Barbara Mason to sound like pagan lo-fi.
Meanwhile listening to El Guincho was the sonic equivalent of watching a star explode, the glorious noise that's made when a man's brain spills out underneath the pressure of trying to capture and compute everything beautiful about sound into a few minutes of perfect pop music, making the Brian Wilson party record of the year in the process. His equally impressive band, Coconot alongside art punks Abe Vigoda for once actually justified a term often made up by bored hacks and made angular guitar music that was positively bathed in tropic mists, the latter's "Dead City/Waste Wilderness" tune becoming something of an anthem to flail limbs too without a shred of abandon in these parts this year.
High Places continued to soothe our battered psyches with the rattling hypnotics of their animalistic folk pop, Gyratory Systems astounded us with some ridiculously innovative synthetic gamelan that left us soul searching for right words that we have yet to find, Late Of The Pier splattered in a grisly neon mess came on strong and brought the fun like The Knife's kid brother's frenetic prog rock band and Teengirl Fantasy made the kind of cyborg dub that compelled us to sweat. A lot. Same for Ben Butler & Mousepad, who will be rocking our world with his further excursions into the 8-bit psychedelic polyhedron. And after a lengthy period away from things returning this year in a far quieter, but no less impressive fashion was Leila who blew us away with an album of creeping lullabies drowned in a queasy, disorientating ambience that aside from being brilliantly mesmeric, also heralded the welcome return of unsung hero Luca Santucci.



