Colombian Collective Systema Solar Bring a Blast of Heat to Future Yard

Apparently, the first seeds of what became the Systema Solar collective were sown during the filming of was a 2008 music documentary entitled Frekuensia Kolombiana, directed by French visual artist Vanessa Gocksh. When she invited some of the best Colombian musicians she’d come across to play together, the result must surely be the most powerful combination since nitro was first introduced to glycerine and they went off to produce dynamite.

Singers Andres Gutierrez, Walter Hernandez, and (on occasion) vocalist & DJ Arturo Corpas each take turns centre stage, each bringing different flavours to music that simply has to be danced to.

Hernandez is a one-man party, his energetic on-stage antics making Bez look as animated and ‘out there’ as a statue of a sleeping lollipop man. As if the electricity generated by this personal power plant wasn’t enough, he then pops up one moment wearing an electronic helmet that wouldn’t be out of place if he joined Daft Punk, the next in a mask evoking a Colombian Green Man.

Meanwhile, percussionist Jhon Primera doesn’t so much play the drums as beat them into submission as if bending wild animals to his will.The Colombian ‘Pika’ movement is a significant part of their DNA, which – though very much its own thing – shares many characteristics with Jamaican soundsystem culture. However, whilst some makers of electronic dance music attempt (and so often fail) to enhance their music by ‘borrowing’ from musical traditions they’re not connected to, Systema Solar does the opposite, building their monumental sound on a foundation of Colombian, Afro-Columbian and Afro-Caribbean musical traditions.

Take some Afro-Cuban-influenced champeta, mix it with cumbia and its offspring porro, and stir in the sounds of resistance carried in bullerengue – music that originated with escaped slaves and those resisting slavery. Add a sprinkling of vallenato – a genre so important to and characteristic of the Colombian valley that gave birth to it that UNESCO wants to protect it – and you might begin to a glimpse into the soul of the Systema Solar sound. 

If what I’ve read is correct, cumbia has links to Afro-Colombian funereal traditions. That makes perfect sense: the aural equivalent of St. Vitus Dance, there’s no way anyone who heard it could ever be buried alive by accident. In fact, their infectious track Yo Voy Ganao could probably raise the dead all on its own.

Other great tunes that detonate on the dance floor include El Botón del Pantalón, Mi Kolombia, and Rumbera – all well worth finding on YouTube or elsewhere. Better still, buy them and turbo-charge your next party; your guests will love you for it.

It’s a sound so particular that they had to invent a word for it: berbenautika. The roots are deep, the expression so substantial it seems to reach down into the very earth and wake spirits in much the same way flamenco does, but only when performed really, really well.

They ramp things up with the sort of danceability and social consciousness that make Afrobeat so irresistible, albeit with a different musical palate. Even more power comes from a steroid-like injection of electronica, house, hip-hop, techno, and turntablism.

It’s a heady mix, and a show bordering on gonzo, with world-class musicians simply refusing to take themselves too seriously in case it gets in the way of the fun.

They certainly brought the sun with them: with temperatures hitting 30°C in Birkenhead during the day, their florescent orange outfits looking like they made the phrase ‘boiler suit’ a bit too literal. You wouldn’t’ve known it, given the perpetual motion they brought to the stage.

I walked home in an effort to cool off. It didn’t work. It was still 26°C.

With a Glasto I don’t have tickets for fast approaching, I can at least take comfort in the knowledge that the best party in the country has already taken place, not in Somerset, but on the banks of the Mersey, with Systema Solar hosted by Birkenhead’s Future Yard.A quick shout out also for the excellent support from Tony Broke and Nicky Blaze, whose hip-hop set made me feel like I’d wandered into an alternate universe in which Busta Rhymes and Missy Elliot are Scousers. And yes, I exaggerate slightly – but nowhere near as much as you might think.