The word kuduro has two translations. It means
“location” in Kimbundu, the native language of northern Angola where
kuduro dance music was born, as well as “firm ass” (or “hard ass”) in
Portuguese, which became the official language of Angola under colonial
rule.
One look at a kuduro dance party explains why the second meaning
fits. The energetic mix of pop-and-lock, breakdance, and b-boy styles
requires an incredible amount of intensity and strength, as well as
bravado and showmanship. Hyped-up crowds circle around, provoking
dancers until their moves start to look more like stunts from
Jackass than your traditional dance party. Performers swing
their limbs like joint-less marionettes, jerk into crazy poses, and
hurl themselves through the air, crashing straight onto
pavement—or breakable furniture—to the ecstatic cheers of
the audience.
“A lot of these people have so many problems. When they go out, they
want it to be the best time of their life,” explains Andro Carvalho,
AKA Conductor of the group responsible for the recent popularity of
kuduro around the world, Buraka Som Sistema.
Carvalho points out that the traditional sound—a mixture of
African percussion and rhythms derived from calypso, zouk, and other
styles associated with regional celebrations—has been around in
Angola for some time, and started getting popular in Portugal back in
the late ’90s because of the Angolan immigrant community.
The group formed when three Portuguese musicians teamed up with
Conductor, an Angolan, to explore kuduro. The combination of Lil John’s
house and techno beats, DJ Riot’s grime and dubstep background, MC
Kalaf’s soulful groove, and Conductor’s expertise in kuduro give the
sound a fresh and powerful edge. Their breakout hit “Yah!” and
follow-up collaboration with M.I.A. on “Sound of Kuduro,” brought BSS
international recognition and a major label deal for their first
full-length album, Black Diamond.
When asked whether BSS’s take on kuduro was more about music or
politics, Carvalho responds, “We just want to make people dance. But
you have Angolan emcees singing about their lives, talking about their
problems. These are people you would otherwise never know. That alone
is a big social statement.”