Mark Ernestus

It has been almost an entire decade since this project (or any project at all, really) last surfaced from dub-techno visionary Mark Ernestus, but I can think of few other artists who have played a more significant role in shaping my taste despite that lengthy hiatus (Rhythm & Sound, Chain Reaction, Maurizio, Basic Channel, and Hard Wax all loom quite large in my life). Notably, however, Ernestus’ previous mbalax-inspired recordings with Senegalese vocalist Mbene Diatta Seck and the Jeri-Jeri ensemble did not grab me as much as his other work, as it often seemed like Jeri-Jeri would have been just as compelling without his production expertise (albeit a bit less tight, crisply produced, and bass heavy). I like those earlier releases, of course, but they felt like a sharpening of an existing aesthetic rather than a fresh revelation. That said, Ndagga Rhythm Force is allegedly an absolutely killer live act, so maybe I would have been more enthusiastic in my appreciation if I had managed to catch them. In any case, I am definitely more enthusiastic now, as Ernestus’ vision has evolved considerably since 2016 and the first half of Khadim is on another level altogether. 

The big difference is that Ernestus and his collaborators have ditched their guitars and it now seems like these pieces were collaboratively built from the ground up rather than being a mere remixed version of Jeri-Jeri. While I have no idea if that is what actually happened, these new pieces have been distilled to an aggressively minimal palette of only vibrantly rolling & clattering sabar drum rhythms, Mbene Diatta Seck’s soulful and dubbed-up devotional vocals, and subtle, well-placed electronic enhancements from Ernestus. The most perfectly distilled and executed example of this new vision is “Dieuw Bakhul,” as Seck’s ghostly vocals share “a Wolof tale of treachery” over a lurching rhythm gorgeously enhanced by Ernestus’ frayed and stormy dub-techno chords. 

Elsewhere, the opening “Lamp Fall” is a more subtle stunner, as a rolling, off-kilter groove is unpredictably shaken by a series of deep bass depth charges while a quietly burbling synth motif works its way deeper and deeper into the drum rhythm. The rest of the EP is rounded out by the reggae-inspired title piece and the moody closer “Nimrat,” both of which feature the same great drumming and hazy reverb-trailed vocals as the other two pieces. Consequently, the only real caveat with Khadim is that the vamp-like nature of these pieces and the constrained sound palette give all four songs the feel of being variations on a single theme. I would not change a thing though, as the hyper-minimal nature of these pieces creates a vacuum that ensures that every single chord or dub effect is deeply felt and has plenty of room to breathe. 

Listen here.