Lagon Nwar

It’s been said that Ann O’aro’s voice turns every song into a rousing call for the decolonization of the body. It’s a voice that dares to stare darkness in the eye and challenges listeners to engage deeply with the music of Lagon Nwar, where memories grounded in the land of Burkina Faso meet the dregs of Tri-collectif’s avant-garde, the propulsive power of Creole tradition, the rawness of afro jazz and the weirdness of European pop. With its debut album, this feverish French quartet mocks the very idea of borders, starting a dialogue between the Mascareignes, Paris and Ouagadougou to produce a fresh, electric sound that tastes like salt water, smells like the port and its armaments, and celebrates all those seemingly small things that are as old as life itself. The ritualistic performances of Lagon Nwar can’t fit into album releases and streaming links. They are living, breathing organisms that can only be experienced first-hand.