Nyege Nyege Tapes never misses. The Kampala, Uganda based label has been consistently releasing some of the most interesting electronic music of the past few years. Their slim catalog has shone a light on both singeli, a frenetic form of dance music that can hit 300 bpm, and electro Acholi, an electronic re-interpretation of traditional Acholi courtship songs. With Duma’s self titled album, the label steps into an entirely new realm with two veterans of the Nairobi metal scene. This album may be the most experimental piece of music the label has ever released; it’s also one of the best.
Duma is Martin Khanja and Sam Karugu. The two cut their teeth in other bands (Lust of a Dying Breed and The Seeds of Datura) that play a relatively straightforward brand of metal, but there is nothing traditional or straightforward about their music as Duma. References to metal are more spiritual than explicit. There’s an intensity of purpose and heaviness to their music that feels akin to metal (along with Khanja’s guttural vocal style) which they’ve fused with a palette of electronic sounds. They’ve come out on the other side with something that defies easy categorization.
“Uganda With Sam” is a great example of this dichotomy. The track starts out with hisses of static and murky, swirling electronics mixed with Khanja’s vocals. This calm is soon punctured by rapid fire drums, which take over and accompany Khanja in a stripped down moment that echoes the intensity of a metal track. The track switches back and forth between these two sounds, never allowing the listener to get comfortable with either. Other tracks make this fusion more explicit. “Kill Yourself Before You’re Dead” and “Lionsblood” are both anchored by driving beats, but are also layered with disembodied voices and ghostly echoes. The results feel massive, propelled to a size that metal riffs alone could never reach.
I talk about the idea of world building in relationship to music a lot. Some music is able to conjure visions of other realms and transport you there mentally. Duma does this throughout the album. Their music is absolutely cavernous. Listening to it feels like you are sitting down in the middle of a storm being pummeled from all sides. The record continues to reveal new details on repeated close listens, illuminating hidden depths. It’s a listening experience that reflects life in 2020, where a deluge of horrific events and bungled government responses batter us every day.
Duma’s music demands your attention. This is not a record to throw on for your next dinner party (which luckily won’t be a problem these days). It’s an album to give yourself up to, letting Duma’s wall of sound eat you up and spit you out cleansed and reborn on the other side. It sounds like something completely new, a vision of the future where mutant genres roam the earth. I guarantee it’s one of the best things you’ll hear all year.