Sacred Lodge is the side project of Paris-based producer and sound artist Matthieu Ruben N’Dongo. Rooted in his ethnomusicological research, which explores the role of music in ritual contexts and his own Equatoguinean heritage, the results are unsettling but compelling, characterised by heady percussion and swarming electronics. But while his 2019 debut Hijos Del Sol was made up of murky downtempo instrumentals, N’Dongo’s follow-up amps up the intensity almost beyond recognition, with a collection of sludgy, abrasive tracks.
One of the starkest differences is the use of vocals, which have previously only featured as echoey background textures. On Ambam, N’Dongo makes full use of his voice. Inspired by the tradition of field hollers and ritual chants (specifically of the Fang people, from which his father originates), he ranges from guttural metal-style growls to distorted screams and yelps; some lyrics are delivered in a panting, rap-like cadence. On opening track Wa Wa Ke Wa Wa Yi, N’Dongo’s grisly tone is offset by composer and vocalist Sara Persico, whose smoky, seductive drawl only reinforces the uncanny atmosphere.
The instrumentals are harsher this time, too, welding elements of horrorcore, industrial and bass music into buzzing storms of noise. Excitingly, several tracks are anchored by hypnotic drum patterns that might even seem clubby in a different context. Enêñ is a highlight, with its metallic, polyrhythmic percussion, as is the skulking A Bo Biboa. Other tracks are straight-up discordant, such as Mongu Nnang, featuring Cairo-based producer El Kontessa, which clatters along frenetically. At points, it’s so deconstructed it resembles a malfunctioning computer game.
Both dense and disorientating, Ambam may well be too overwhelming for some listeners. But the more you listen, the more you get sucked into the thrill of N’Dongo’s unapologetic resistance music.
Also out this month
Written and recorded during her pregnancy, Le Don des Larmes is French-Algerian musician Léo La Nuit’s gentle tribute to her newborn child (Knekelhuis). Across 16 lo-fi recordings, there are intimate ditties and lullabies that draw on north African folk music, interspersed with atmospheric pop-ish moments and scattered field recordings, from birdsong to crying. Blurrr, the latest album by Glasgow painter-musician Joanne Robertson, is another lovely, cosy listen (AD93). Aside from Oliver Coates’s occasional cello feature, it’s just Roberton’s voice and acoustic guitar in these meandering folk songs. But the foggy production quality sets her squarely beyond the singer-songwriter category, adding an edge reminiscent of her regular collaborator Dean Blunt. As in her DJ sets, Spanish producer JASSS defies genre boundaries on her excellent new album Eager Buyers (AWOS). There are shades of trip-hop, dub, pop and post-rock in these shapeshifting compositions, where glitching electronics fizz around moody guitars and echoey vocals.
