Afrika Pseudobruitismus: “Electric Shampoo Meditation”
Morocco’s more than just Bogie and Bergman, of course.
For starters, there’s also Burroughs and Bowles. And who could forget the Tangier tangents to the lives of Brian Jones and Brion Gysin? Yes, while the import business is good, it’s still mostly old money. Might there be something newer, some crop fresher worth exporting? The answer, my friend, is a resounding sí (or whatever Berber language you’re wont to hear). One such master musician from Melilla – an autonomous Spanish exclave off the northern coast – sure makes it hard to tell, though. If you still can’t spell Afrika Bambaataa, well, you’re never going to get one Afrika Pseudobruitismus.
After hours on the Net, reaching out to forums I could only halfway-comprehend, all I really have is the standard Afro-Futuro creation myth: “Afrika Pseudobruitismus is a nebula associated with young stars, which is located in the disk of a spiral galaxy near Melilla – just at the point where Tokyo and Los Angeles meet. Afrika Pseudobruitismus, also known as Pseudobrutismus Africamus, shines as a result of the transformation suffered by the intense ultraviolet radiation that comes from the stars that are close to him.” Yeah, so eat your heart out, Icarus.
Naturally, the story gets deeper the longer it runs: “Afrika Pseudobrutismus has an intense magnetic field that induces the emission of electromagnetic radiation pulses and 4-track afrikan electronik space trash sounds at regular intervals. The dawn, dreams, alchemy, surf, the tropik, Vicks VapoRub, Riemann’s spheres, nebulae, amateur porn, you and me.” Quite the laundry list, indeed.
And yet, somehow, that’s about as apt as anything I’d come up with. Scratching Peace Signals in the Sky’s glitched-out bursts of already over-modulated signals acquiesce only to louder, more blissful versions of themselves. It’s a rinse ‘n’ repeat cycle on a budget machine where the water’s quickly turning to muck. Ideas here don’t grow and develop organically; they’re chopped, then blanched, and only then are they screwed to oblivion. Maybe it’s because Melilla’s a port city. (Or maybe it’s because she’s one of the two European Union territories in mainland Africa.) Again, I can’t really say. What remains crystal, however, is that Afrika Pseudobruitismus/Pseudobrutismus Africamus imbues folk art whimsy with the scuzz of cosmopolitan noise. It’s incredibly dank, unbelievably dense. And that’s all the story ye, or I, need know.
Place it once, for old time’s sake. Inevitably, you’ll have to play it again, Sam. Play “Electric Shampoo Meditation,” and you’ll never have to suffer Casablanca ever again.
Thanks to Egyptian Maraccas for giving us the heads up
Written by Logan K. Young