tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21677300.post-66639258041949730732007-04-25T10:35:00.000-07:002007-04-25T10:47:57.913-07:00<div align="center"><a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/172/472616254_3709a00805.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/172/472616254_3709a00805.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Konono No. 1 prove that good things can happen in Kinshasa<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Electrifying a thumb piano sounds about as unlikely as, say, strapping a jet engine onto a surfboard. That very action, however, explains the central mystery behind Congo's Konono No. 1. But don't expect an esoteric creation myth from founder and likembe virtuoso Mawangu Mingiedi, who explains that his feedback-rich music exists simply "because it's a very soft-sounding instrument and Kinshasa is a very noisy town."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The likembe has a gentle, waterlogged twang, like a mouth harp encased in Jell-O. It is as native to the Congolese sound as the ancestral hum of the Bazombo trance music brought to Kinshasa by Mingiedi when he left his hometown on the Angolan border after the death of his father. Answering questions with producer Vincent Kenis via e-mail, Mingiedi describes Bazombo as "the cradle of our music. There's a little bit of it in whatever we play." </span><b><a href="http://www.sfbg.com/entry.php?entry_id=3468&catid=107&amp;volume_id=254&issue_id=292&amp;amp;volume_num=41&amp;issue_num=30">more</a></b> </div>Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14158019159551759041noreply@blogger.com