FAMO MOUNTAIN - For Those Left Behind
Recorded in situ in the highlands of Lesotho—one of the world's most elevated and perilous nations—the group Famo Mountain crafts raw, topical music driven by visceral vocals, accordion and percussion. This sound not only echoes the rugged beauty and harsh realities of its environment but also rises above them, creating something timeless and transcendent.
"For Those Left Behind" is an unforgettable audio snapshot capturing the soul of a remote music and culture. Recorded and produced by Grammy-winner Ian Brennan—renowned for his work with Zomba Prison Project, Ustad Saami, and Tinariwen—the album is his 11th release for Glitterbeat’s acclaimed Hidden Musics series. With unfiltered intimacy and cultural depth, Brennan once again brings marginalized voices to the global stage.
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As we embarked for the recording, the newspaper headline on a placard out front of the hotel read “Another Famo Mass Shooting.” Not the most comforting news when facing a four-hour, winding drive on mountainous roads after traveling thousands of miles to meet a Famo music troupe.
So much violence has occurred between rival Famo music gangs that Lesotho is often called “the murder capital of the continent,” and currently ranks sixth most deadly in the world. Despite Lesotho being the most homogenous nations in Africa— with 99.7% of citizens from the same tribe (Basotho)— there are divisions.
Nicknamed, the Switzerland of Africa, the kingdom in the sky, and the rooftop of Africa, Lesotho, at an average elevation of 7,090 feet above sea level is the highest nation in Africa and the sixth highest on earth. But the altitude is not the only thing that’s elevated. Lesotho also has one of the highest suicide rates in the world and the second most cases of HIV/AIDS.
Wreaking of home-brewed spirits, Famo Mountain’s dueling diesel-drum and tire-tread percussionist’s setup. The lead singer, Tebotho’s traditional funnel hat reached for the stars, so much so he had to crouch down to clear doorways. To peer up at his head-gear could induce vertigo.
The five-piece group careened with retooled polkas. Left behind by the German colonizers, accordion riffs were seized and overhauled by locals.
Originally called focho, meaning “off target”— for the chaos Famo music would incite in audiences— the genre was created by Basotho immigrant miners who’ve provided labor in neighboring South Africa since the 1920s. By 1990, over 100,000 Basotho men were working in South African mines. The original Famo gangs called themselves Marashea (“the Russians”) and were designed to provide protection from ethnic violence directed towards them as migrant workers, but these groups soon devolved into crime syndicates.
A local confided that he abstained from even playing Famo music in his car for fear of unintentionally displaying the wrong affiliation. Instead, he engaged in intentional Phil Collins listening. The worst kind.
Tebotho’s delicate and raspy voice carried the trials that music-making itself had brought him in songs such as “My Struggles to Survive (I Refuse to Join a Music Gang)” and “Prayer for Peace.” But his vulnerability is perfectly offset by party starter, response vocalist, Leeto’s energetic bellows, barks, raps, and whistles.
One of the most touching songs was sung by the accordionist. In “I Miss My Wife, She Left to Find Work in South Africa,” he tells of pining for his spouse who has been forced to relocate abroad for economic reasons.
Their music possesses such a soaring quality, it seems only possible that it arises from a land of such spaciousness and height.
We were forced to take refuge in the kitchen of a local friend’s lodge rather than playing in the open air. This was done not just out of concern that they might attract the attention of rivals, but due to keeping at bay the tourists staying near who might interrupt by filming with their phones.
As punk rock as can be-- like a snapped wrist left unset, more gangster than “Gangsta’” due to their refusing the life of crime that confronts and endangers them daily.
--- Ian Brennan