Sotho Sounds: Junk Funk

Limitations breed creativity, or so they say. Sotho Sounds—a spirited four-piece from the Kingdom of Lesotho—know more about this than most. With day jobs as herd boys in the highlands of their native country, there was never any point in crossing fingers for the chimera of Fender guitars and Moog synthesizers. But, resourceful types such as they are, Sotho Sounds have fashioned instruments entirely from discarded materials – tin cans, oil barrels, off-cuts of wood and useless lengths of wire, all transformed into a charmingly rickety orchestra.

While their 2012 album, Junk Funk, was certainly an interesting listen, the joy, passion and playfulness with which they perform is something that only translates in a live setting. Those southern African vocal harmonies are as authentic as they come (if world music compass is broken, think Paul Simon's Graceland), but it's the ramshackle accompaniment that surprises most. Because while it might initially strike as an impenetrable mess, it's amazing how quickly the ears adjust. And from that point, you can easily find yourself in raptures. It can only be testament to the joyfulness of Sotho Sounds' performance that even an (admittedly insistent) open invitation to dance the Macarana on stage manages brush sour British tempers and inhibitions aside with ease.

Sotho Sounds' interactions with the audience may be made in endearingly convoluted pidgin English, but they needn't say anything at all. It's clear that they're happy simply to be playing. Even if it is on instruments costing less than the price of a latte.