Ten years ago, DJ and producer Mala was one half of seminal dubstep duo Digital Mystikz and behind the south London-born genre’s flagship club night DMZ (tagline “Meditate on bass weight”). Since then the genre has shape-shifted, been exported to the US and turned into a brasher, laddier sound. But its originator has continued to explore new, spiritual frontiers.
After 2012’s Mala In Cuba, when he travelled to the island at the behest of Gilles Peterson, his new album Mirrors aims to twin Croydon with ancient Lima. Mala says that, until he visited for the first time, Peruvian music meant “my guy on Croydon High Street playing a really bad version of Bryan Adams on the pan pipes”. But after becoming interested in the country’s sounds, thanks to the Peruvian-focused record label Tiger’s Milk, he discovered just how rich its folk music really is.
Specifically, he was drawn to Peru’s sacred “roots” music and the artists who carry on its traditions. Zapateo, for example, is built around the deft tap-dancing patterns of Colectivo Palenke, while Looney pairs the rattling rhythms of a quijada (a percussion instrument made out of a mule’s jaw bone) with dread atmospheres and pincer bass.
“My intention was just to learn about a new sound and a new culture. I was very aware of musicians feeling comfortable and not asking too much of anybody,” says Mala, who visited Peru four times over three years to make the album. “We organised a meet and greet with musicians, and met people who wanted to make a contribution.”
Indeed, it feels as if Mala is more of an ethnomusicologist rather than a producer jetting in to make a quick buck off Peruvian culture. For eerie opener Kotos he convinced 16-man pan-flute collective Asociación Juvenil Puno to be involved. “They play by interlocking,” says Mala. “They don’t all play the same notes, so the sound moves around you.”
It took months to get them onboard but eventually they agreed. “They gave me a book explaining their history, I gave them some of my music, and as they warmed up they began drinking a bottle of pisco moonshine,” says Mala. “Then they put on these robes and played for hours. I was in tears.”
On the surface, Mirrors could come off like smash-and-grab cultural appropriation, but Mala says it’s the result of his broadening horizons and a respect for cultural exchange. “I couldn’t make an album by manufacturing a concept and getting in the studio,” he says. The experience is the driving force.” Listeners, prepare to dry your eyes.
Mirrors is available now on Brownswood
