PARQUET COURTS

capable of something unspeakable to a person close to his heart. “I thought I was cancelled or something, it made me think, ‘Fuck the media’,” Pa says. “They were blaming me for my brother’s death. Are you mad? I don’t really care about what the media says. They praise man one day then try to tear man down the next. Other people may not have been able to hack [the negative press]. Me? I can never forgive that shit.”

Pa is the first to admit he led a wayward life previously, with himself and his friends victims within it, and while he’s successful, the shadows of his past are etched into his story,

“There was a certain point in my life where I was hard to control,” he explains. “Luckily my mum was strict. She would always tell me to never speak English at home, only speak Wolof. My grandparents took me to villages in Gambia they never even took my mum. That’s a sign to me. Gambia’s never left me. I haven’t been able to go back, and I haven’t been able to see my grandparents’ graves since I left and they raised me. I need to go home to come back as a real artist, I won’t be one without going home.” threatening to show themselves at any given moment. But Pa wouldn’t want it any other way because it forms part of his DNA, the intersection between lived experience and sanctity.

Today, he remains forward thinking. Now settled in London, he released the infectious anthem ‘Glidin’ alongside Northampton nomad slowthai in June: two unique voices in British rap becoming one. Following that came a new project, titled the same name as a phrase he’s uttered throughout today’s chat: ‘Afrikan Rebel’. The three-track release, featuring Nigerian artists Tay Iwar, Zlatan and Obongjayar, serves as the first instalment of what will be a series of drops under the ‘Afrikan Rebel’ banner, serving the purpose, according to Pa, of cultivating “a movement which I hope can allow me to connect with others with a similar mindset and giving a platform for me to experiment with influences and inspirations from my culture and others from the great continent of Africa.”

“I had the idea [for ‘Afrikan Rebel’] even before we dropped ‘Send Them To Coventry’,” he explains. “Anyone can be an Afrikan Rebel, you place that title on your head like a crown and your royalty is there, that’s it. If you understand that, you’re an Afrikan Rebel. For me, it’s Black History Day every day, whatever the month; that’s why ‘Afrikan Rebel’ is more than a project, it’s a statement. It stands for new generations of Africans, stubborn to the fucking bone, knowing themselves and making change.”

Pa is packing heavy artillery to project his defiant message. He’s been in the studio with UK rap’s golden boy Aitch, alt queen FKA twigs, rap legends Krept & Konan, genreagnostic duo Ibeyi and even Harlem’s pretty boy, A$AP Rocky. A track list of this magnitude would stand out even in the most crowded of release days, but the variety speaks to Pa’s worldly approach, and his hunger for musical growth. “I’m not a rapper,” he declares. “I don’t like to be boxed into anything. I do what I want, how I want. My definition of music is different, it comes from the griots, history tellers telling you about yourself. I know myself and I know where I’m from. Because of that, I’m always going to keep all elements of myself in my music, I’m always going to keep it spiritual.”

Alignment in his life is key, between the musical and the personal. Just two years after skipping death, and a year after shutting down Britain’s music scene, his journey has yet to reach full gear, but his destination is clear and defined. Music has made it achievable, and fear is not an option. Pa Salieu carries the weight of his ancestors on his shoulders, ready to change the world.

Big night, lads? &Alive

CONTRARIAN WAY. Words: James Balmont. Photos: Pooneh Ghana.

For Parquet Courts, the end of 2020 will be remembered at least partially more nostalgically than for most. Marking the 10-year anniversary of their first live show in December, the New York quartet underlined their inaugural decade together with a careerspanning live broadcast from

Brooklyn's Pioneer Works. But for the band members themselves, heading towards the latter half of their thirties has meant opening more doors - and definitely not just relying on past glories. 2018 album ‘Wide

Awake!’, of course, had brought super-producer Danger

Mouse into the fold to deliver one of the band’s most acclaimed records to date. And now, three years on, this month’s ‘Sympathy For Life’ offers something even more ambitious and unexpected.

Built from 40-minute improvised jams inspired, uncharacteristically, by dance music in their hometown and beyond, the band’s seventh album - though grounded in themes and sounds they’ve explored previously - is more groovy and hungry than anything they’ve released before. Parquet Courts have found not only a ‘Sympathy for Life’, but a new appetite for it, too - with psychoactive stimulants and New York nightclubs firmly on the menu. Co-lead Andrew Savage sums it up well: “It’s never too early for a mid-life crisis”.

“[We were] spending all our time in the rock music world at these big indie festivals,” begins Austin Brown, the band’s co-vocalist and fellow songwriter. He’s sat in a dark room in his New York apartment; a rather gloomy environment compared to that of bubbly counterpart Andrew, who is accompanied by a verdant pot plant and some dazzling sunlight shining through his kitchen window. Likewise, Austin is methodical and introspective, speaking in laboured monologues that resonate like drones. He’s surrounded by percussion and guitars - the kind of set-up you’d expect of a seasoned indie band. But he’s less concerned with the world Parquet Courts established themselves in.

“[We were] on tour incessantly and feeling exhausted by the culture surrounding it,” Austin continues, questioning the “uni-directional” concept of the concert, with all people facing the front. So as he sought inspiration for the band’s next chapter, he decided to mix things up a bit. Austin Brown went clubbing.

The Loft was the destination that opened the songwriter’s eyes: a mythical establishment among New Yorkers, known for its premium audio system and eclectic music policy, where rock, soul and disco records intermingle with club bangers. It’s been around for over 50 years, once frequented by legends like Arthur Russell, Keith Haring and DJ Larry Levan of the Paradise Garage, Austin explains in a bite-size New York history lesson. Its legacy as a place of inclusivity - where, historically, Black, Latino and LGBQT+ communities could express themselves without fear of persecution - was tangible for the Parquet Courts frontman. “I could feel that sense of community,” he continues, unconsciously echoing the opening monologue from Primal Scream’s ‘Loaded’: “It was about everyone being there together… where you can feel free to be yourself.”

The Loft put dance music culture in context for Austin, as opposed to the inaccessibility he’d experienced at the raves and techno clubs he’d frequented in previous years. “[It’s] subversive, anti-establishment, progressive, and also the most enriching American psychedelic experience that has been created,” he notes. “This was something I really wanted to carry into the process of creating our new record.” T he band decamped to the Catskills in upstate New York to put this vision into action. “It’s an area of sacredness,” says Austin. “A magic and fertile place with clean air, mountain water, and a lot of protected land.” It’s also the area where 2014 album ‘Sunbathing Animal’, and large sections of 2016’s ‘Human Performance’ were recorded. With Rodaidh McDonald (The xx, Hot Chip, King Krule) on production duties for the first time, ’Sympathy for Life’ would be a whole new kettle of fish - inspired not only by subversive and communal recording methods, but also by Grace Jones’ dancerock fusion and the euphoric social commentary of Happy Mondays.

“Roddy’s definitely down to burn the midnight oil,” Andrew explains of the band’s producer, as he describes the marathon improvised jam sessions that took place around the clock. These would be recorded in full, and later edited down from freeform modes to create structured tracks. Such methods often defied sanity and stamina: “I’d go take a nap, and a few hours later I’d come back, and the same song would still be being laboured over,” he continues. “There was an intensity there - that kind of fourth wind you can only get out of extreme energy loss.”

“For some of these, I wasn’t even playing an instrument,” Austin continues, offering further proof of the band’s unconventional approach. “I was playing everyone else’s instruments.” He’d move between echoes, pitch-shifters and distortion while manning a 16-channel dub station, he explains - something akin to the techniques used by the late Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Andrew describes his bandmate’s craft across the record in simpler terms: “He was the control master of the jam”.