Various Artists

101 Things To Do In Bongolia
Electric Cowbell Records : 2011

The bongo. Quite possibly the most misunderstood musical instrument of all time: easy to pick up, but hard to master. In the hands of a traveler trying to find himself and his rhythm it’s the scourge of every beach across the world, but in the hands of a true professional it’s the tipping point that turns a performance into a party.

It’s this same schizophrenia that rules in 101 Things To Do In Bongolia, the fictive home of Electric Cowbell Records. It’s a record that’s at once brilliant and frustrating: brilliant because, well, the music’s pretty good; frustrating because it’s as inconsistent as it is brilliant. To be fair to Electric Cowbell, that’s part of their magic. Their goal is to release music that joins the dots between “from Ethiopian music to James Brown to Peruvian chichi” and the fact that they do this solely on 45s (this CD is their first concession to market forces) only adds to their impeccable credentials. Throw in the presence of Antibalas kingpin Stuart Bogie and Black Flag founder Greg Ginn, and you’ve got a compilation that ticks every musical hipster box going. And yet it’s the scope of Electric Cowbell’s ambition that undermines Bongolia itself as a listening experience. There’s just too much going on. 101 things to be precise.

While it’s obvious that care has been taken with the tracklisting to ensure that the album does have some sort of flow, it’s one musical left turn after another. Which just like the background story sounds extremely attractive, but doesn’t quite work out nearly as well as an album. It is a shame because there are some real gems here. “I Get Up” by Amazing Ghost is an uplifting and catchy slice of infectious indie funk sunshine, “Let my People Bugalu” does exactly that with a slice of salsa magic that will appeal to anyone with a passing fancy for Fania records, while “Human Happiness” by Superhuman Happiness will induce mass outbreaks of, um, happiness.

Contrarily (see, even I’ve got into the schizophrenic thing now), the aforementioned weakness of 101 Things To Do In Bongolia, its variety, is also its greatest strength. So eclectic is it that there’s really something for everyone here. There’s probably even a lot of people who’ll get down to the ghastly house flavours of the “String Theory (GRC Vocal Mix)” which brings back memories of those dark days when it used to be terribly hip to have a house DJ accompanied by a live trumpeter or bongo player (yep, them again). The horror. But thankfully that’s the only real downer on display here.

If there’s a red thread that runs through this collection it lies in the groove. Almost every song has a groove or a spark of funk that keeps at least a flicker of interest alive, even if it’s just that, a hint of something better. Sadly at times it feels more like a collection that you’ll wheel out to impress someone to turn onto a new band rather than an album you’ll play again and again. But that’s the thing with bongos. You either embrace them or your abuse them. And Electric Cowbell is definitely on the right side of the line. At its best, the time you spend with Bongolia is like digging in those records shops that are now so rare, where the staff are knowledgeable and passionate and have always got a fresh tip for you to check out. Sometimes it’s great, sometimes it’s not, but they’re always worth listening to and more often than not it’s something you’d never get turned onto otherwise. The bottom line is that Electric Cowbell is a fine record label, an exemplary one even, with a vision and array of musicians that deserve your attention, and every now and then, your love.

-Will Georgi