Extra Golden | 06.22.08 | San Francisco

Words by: Dennis Cook | Images by: Josh Miller

Extra Golden :: 06.22.08 :: Rickshaw Stop :: San Francisco, CA

Extra Golden :: 06.22 :: San Francisco

As captivating a hybrid of soulful rock and energetic benga as Extra Golden's two studio albums, Ok-Oyot System (2005) and Hera Ma Nono (2007), are nothing quite prepared one for the sinewy, hypnotic live presence of this Washington D.C. meets Kenya combo. With a heel lifting lilt of Cuban son and the deep incisor bite of American alternative rock, this merger of D.C.'s Golden and Orchestra Extra Solar Africa floored San Francisco with their sweet, rolling waves of interlocking sound.

Opiyo Bilongo (vocals), Ian Eagleson (guitar, vocals), Noel Kupersmith (bass), Onyango Jagwasi (guitar), Alex Minoff (guitar, vocals) and Onyango Wuod Omari (drums) appeared below a hand drawn banner on a white sheet that read:

The Rockers And The Fixers
Live On Stage
Yah-Ok-Oyot System

Joyous, circular, slithering and cheerfully defiant, Extra Golden's music is power tonic that rushes through the ear into the heart and body, energizing one to raise a fist while they raise their glass. Shuffling along at the ever-great Rickshaw Stop, a venue that actually seems to love music and musicians, I was reminded of Emma Goldman's famous line, "A revolution without dancing is not a revolution worth having." One felt the truth of this notion, perhaps most potently during "Obama," their salute to the Senator long before he began running for the White House. Obama's offices helped secure the necessary visas that brought the African band members to the States for the first time, which made their first tour and the recording of Hera Ma Nono possible. Whether one understands the words or not, there is a spirit puffing rebel air that inflates everyone around them, raising us up from the gutter so we might see the stars. Too lofty? Well, maybe your revolutionary music isn't this danceable.

Extra Golden :: 06.22 :: San Francisco

Portions sounded like a funkier version of MC5 rehearsal tapes - a bit wild, guitars wrestled into odd new shapes and always a forward march in the low end. Even when they swayed more smoothly, the musicians still jostled against one another, finding inspiration in the sparks they cast on contact. The unintended overtones of three hard charging guitars, often working their way around a single chord for a stretch, summoned up bell and harmonica tones, the feedback blurring things wonderfully. It was astounding how many layers each tune possessed. As fun as they are to watch, it was instructive to close your eyes from time to time and just burrow through the strata. The feel can perhaps be summed up best with Minoff's outburst, "I don't know about you in California but back East that's what we call fucking tone!"

There is laughter within this rebel music, especially in the voice of singer Opiyo Bilongo, who flows with the irregular grace and popping phrasing of the Buena Vista Social Club's Ibrahim Ferrer. There is no higher compliment I can offer a vocalist. Omari's drumming was so varied and textured that it seemed impossible that only one man was making all that sound. Often standing, kick drum left idle, tom toms abused beautifully, Omari was breathtaking, seizing us with the hard wood-on-metal clack of his sticks on the edge of his snare. Puncturing and carving away at things were the guitars of Eagleson and Minoff, both absolute originals on their instruments (and possessors of fine Al Green-esque falsettos when they put their minds to it). Within this all-encompassing rhythm - fueled everywhere by Kupersmith's rubbery, jaw-dropping bass work - one caught flashes of outsider rock like Sonic Youth and Simply Saucer. It's a combination that moves both Kenyan popular music and American rock forward a few notches, and the feeling that we were bearing witness to something new and fresh was intensely palpable.

Extra Golden make music that rejoices in being alive, in escaping the many pitfalls in life and in having two good legs to keep running on another day. Their knowing chant of "Sometimes you eat/ Sometimes you get eaten" did not fall on deaf ears, even those unfamiliar with the band joining in on this sage nugget. Their joy in repetition and grasp of all the places these musical strains overlap created a powerful atmosphere, something akin to what I imagine audiences felt when Bob Marley used to step onstage. You really can't do much better than that.