Antibalas, the politically charged Brooklyn-based ensemble that meshes Afrobeat, Latin rhythms and any other appetizing world-music stylings it finds to its liking into a musical melting pot uniquely its own, is a dozen men strong. How will they all manage to fit on the tiny Troubadour stage for their show on Thursday?
"We've played in kitchens," Stuart Bogie, the group's tenor saxophonist, recalls with a laugh. "We get real close. In a lot of places, we're physically touching each other for the duration of the show."
"A lot of times, our best shows are on small stages," says Martin Perna, who assembled the group a decade back and plays baritone sax.
"We hear each other a lot better on small stages."
Antibalas (Spanish for bulletproof) broke through with its universally acclaimed 2004 recording "Who Is This America?"; its current release, "Security," continues the band's ascent with impossibly infectious, swinging grooves and heartfelt, defiant political idealism.
"Most of us would like to be singing about flowers, trees and love, but Afrobeat is a music of resistance," Perna notes. "There are issues independent of major global geopolitics or American domestic policy. There's war going on, but people would get tired of an album of songs of how ridiculous and deceitful and expensive the war is."
To that end, "Security" begins with "Beaten Metal," a tune inspired by the fact that many of Germany's World War II weapons were melted down and turned into musical instruments. Perna says that lyrics were written for the songnumber, but the group decided the vibe came across just as persuasively as an instrumental.
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Twelve musicians and no band leader: Sounds like a recipe for disaster in logistics, organization, command, finances, you name it.
But the musical "collective" known as Antibalas wouldn't function any other way.
"Operating this way can be frustrating," allows Martin Perna, the band's saxist. "But in the end, it's more rewarding. You can get very lazy when you have a leader. You just let somebody else figure it out. Here, everyone has to figure it out."
Ironically, Antibalas' messy setup has resulted in music with a rare sense of order. In the past few years, this Brooklyn-based band has become one of America's prime promoters of the "Afrobeat" sound, a complex style pioneered by the Nigerian artist Fela in the '70s.
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Antibalas, the horn and percussion driven Brooklyn collective, is best known for their energetic afro-beat grooves that channel the legendary Fela Kuti. But with careful attention to refining their sound—adding distinct Latin, jazz and funk elements—the group has emerged as a well-rounded and diverse sonic force. On Security, they demonstrate their growth, with the capable guidance of producer John McEntire (of Tortoise and The Sea and Cake fame), post-rock pioneer and a consummate shaper of dynamic soundscapes.
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Aside from the Brazilian Girls, there's probably no other Brooklyn band that embodies and embraces the cultural melting pot of New York City's five boroughs better than Antibalas. At their deliriously funky live performances one finds an eclectic smorgasbord of fans, listeners from different scenes, cultures, and ethnic backgrounds. Antibalas' bombastic cannonade of horns and polyrhythmic beats proves that music will always be a barrier breaking common language for the people of the world.
Sure, some are quick to point out the Fela Kuti vibe, but Afrobeat is only the foundation of Antibalas' sonic dynamic. Security finds this 14-member plus collective grooving on a wave of Latin, calypso, reggae, salsa, juju, world jazz, Middle Eastern accents, and a whole lot more to create a simmering cauldron of spicy world stew.
Security's opening salvo, "Beaten Metal," is a thunderous array of clanking tremors and guitar riffs, while "Filibuster XXX" is evocative of a car chase scene from a '70s Blaxploitation flick with a meringue sizzle and a lashing Farfisa organ. Frontman Duke Amayo ponders what GOP stands for ("greedy old people," "gas, oil and petroleum," "guilty of perjury"). "Hilo" is funky, shadowy, and exotic. "I.C.E." is an album highlight that starts out like soundtrack composers John Barry or Lalo Schifrin writing for a cock fight scene in the back room of a Bushwick bodega at 3 a.m. before descending into an ambient, psychedelic flurry straight out of a 19th century opium den.
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