Te-Kwaro Alango-Ekuku marks the second Nyege Nyege Tapes release of music made by Uganda-based Ekuka Morris Sirikiti. It’s very different from the first. 2018’s Ekuka showcased the Langi griot’s storytelling and masterful lukeme playing by way of nearly three decades worth of recorded radio performances, presenting brilliant music and drastically uneven sound quality: an archival adventure along choppy seas of mediation.
This newest album, in sharp contrast, is Ekuka’s first studio recording, stunning in its clarity. Both are exquisite records of Ekuka’s skillful storytelling in their own way. However, this newest work reminds us that he and his traditions are very much still here, not artifacts of old media but flesh and blood, spirit and sound, and presence. Te-Kwaro Alango-Ekuku takes us as close as most of us will likely get to being spellbound by Ekuka in person, which is truly a gift.
Ekuka apparently hadn’t heard the recordings on Ekuka until the album’s compilation, much less gone out of his way to make his own recordings. Instead, his practices have been based on a sense of here-and-now that comes through vividly on every track. The emotional range of his weathered voice and the layered textures of his thumbs plucking the tongues of the lukeme–buzzing metal, resonant wood, melody, rhythm–are deeply engaging. The open spaces between sounds transform the solo Ekuka into an entire scene, of which he seems to be in singular control. It’s easy to imagine an audience sitting rapt before him, production facilities transformed into an intimate performance venue.
As Ekuka Morris Sirikiti plays, he tells stories and speaks on social issues, dealing with topics that are staples of any good griot repertoire: family, morality, current events, and soap opera-worthy drama (“Mito Mon Omegu” muses on wooing a sister-in-law). The range of themes leads to a range of musical tones, from the loping swing of “Akemu Mede Ipwodo Dako” through the upbeat energy of “Kwalo Jami Amon Too” and the swaying, sober “Opwodo Dako Pi Kunyu Omogo” all the way to lilting “Cil Paco”.
No matter the mood, though, the sounds are always soothing. The lukeme twangs are just soft enough, and the leathery timbre of Ekuka’s voice is a comfort even at its most intense. It’s a gentle and personable brilliance that pours so clearly through Ekuka’s stories and commentaries and repeated listens only reveal more details that emerge with even sharper focus.
The griot role encompasses a range of essential functions in a range of ethnic and cultural groups: historian, archivist, entertainer, and tradition-bearer. In the era of mechanical sonic reproduction, recording the holders of such a role has become a common practice, and it’s easy to understand why: the griot is an expert, an essential person through which community members can better understand their identities.
Ekuka Morris Sirikiti has used many contemporary technologies to spread his knowledge, reaching out virtually through radio and commercial recording. Te-Kwaro Alango-Ekuku is an exceptional example of how, when used with care, such processes can further the continuum of past-present-future transmission over an even broader sense of space, all the while offering access to the unquestionable expertise of great “outsider artists” like Ekuka Morris Sirikiti.