Aho Ssan ~ Rhizomes

This is the sound of music’s future: collaborative, cross-cultural and genre-fluid.  On Rhizomes, Aho Ssan (Niamké Désiré) touches upon six of our seven genre categories (leaving out only field recordings), while sounding wholly original.  The set spins like a whirlwind, constantly moving and morphing, and it has no fixed form.  The publicly streaming version contains ten tracks, the QR code edition thirteen, including three exclusive and two expanded pieces, plus a sample pack from Aho Ssan and solo works from many of the collaborators. The book extends branches in another direction, introducing its own symbol-based language.  The AV show, which debuted at Berlin Atonal, promises even more.  The artist’s musical rhizome is alive and growing.

Even before hearing a single note, we were stunned by the quality of the collaborators, many of whom have featured prominently on our pages:  KMRU, Resina, 9t Antiope, Nyokabi Kariũki, Rắn Cạp Đuôi and so many more: musicians who on their own have been pushing music forward, now gathered in one place.  Aho Ssan previously released Limen with KMRU, one of our top albums of last year, and Simulacrum was one of our top electronic releases of 2020, but the subsequent leap into brilliance here is unprecedented.  Perhaps growing up Black in a French suburb opened the composer’s ears to new blends of flavors, but even so, Rhizomes is a remarkable achievement, whose only downside is also part of its appeal: that so much of the music is hidden from the general public, revealed only to those who seek.

The album begins and ends with Nyokabi Kariũki, which lends Rhizomes a wraparound effect, a comforting touch considering the mutable nature of the internal contents.  The overture delivers a sense of growing tension, while the epilogue eases down.  Then it’s Blackhaine’s turn to shine with “Cold Summer Part I” (which grows into an unlisted Parts 2 and 3).  This form of rap, which will continue through other artists later in the set, remembers The Last Poets more than any modern incarnation, words not necessarily connected to beats, beats far from their hip-hop homes.  The track echoes a journey through Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso in an urban environment, even including a Catholic namecheck.  “Til The Sun Down” is another revelation, as few others would ever think of inviting clipping. and Resina to participate on the same track.  This is the genius of Aho Ssan, seeing potential connections where none yet exist.  By the time the track hits its most powerful couplet, “Now why he pull the gun out / Run away run away,” the tone has turned from angry to soul-crushing, with echoes of Black Lives Matter and the violence inflicted on people of color.  The backdrop shifts from drone to industrial, the menace palpable, but not from from the performer, but for the performer.  This industrial connection will continue across instrumental stormers “Tetsuo I & II,” the title seeming to reference the vast destruction of Akira.

Death stalks the streets of “Hero Once Been,” borne by the voice of 9T Antiope relaying another horror tale, its dark underbelly exposed.  The music is sinister: lurking, stalking, waiting to strike.  When the protagonist’s voice turns pure, the song becomes an elegy, backed by choirs.  Shattered, thousands of pieces scattered.  In “Rhizome IV,” the denouement tilts the album out of despair and disillusionment.  Let it all in / The winds of change / The waves of compassion / Let the spirits guide us back to ourselves.  Static charges erupt around mournful violins.

After “Rhizome IV,” it’s fair to ask where the other three parts are buried.  Parts I and II can be found on the extended edition, the first featuring Josefa Ntjam, the second featuring Lafawndah, each track approaching nine minutes in length, lyric-less adventures in texture and mood.  The first part boasts wild saxophone amidst drone and choral filaments.  When the brass fades, the explosions begin; when the explosions fade, the brass reenters.  The second picks up the thread, awash in percussion, strings and synth, building wailing walls of sound.  The other bonus track, “Memoria (feat. Rắn Cạp Đuôi & Richie Culver)”, offers a mitigating phrase that eases the pain of the pieces around it:  “You don’t need to be strong / You can cry in my arms.”

One of the extended pieces, “Away,” adds more than a minute; the other, “La Tremblement,” more than doubles its length.  In all, the extended version of the album (not counting the solo works or sample pack) tops out at just under 80 minutes, half an hour longer than the digital version.  And nothing is disposable.  Like its namesake, Rhizomes may continue to grow (for example, we have yet to hear “Rhizome III”).  The connections between performers may sprout further branches, splices, and hybrid musical forms.

Every aspect of Aho Ssan’s project, from the composition to the performance to the presentation, is immaculate.  Rhizomes is the most exciting album on the market right now, with the potential to be the most influential.  With any hope, it will spark a revolution.  (Richard Allen)