Occasionally you need to embrace the mawkish ballad. Embrace wholesome dancefloor rhythms.
You need to accept the merging of disparate cultural signifiers – the traditional chants taught by tribal elders on the islands of Tiwi, 80km north of Darwin, where B2M (named after the two islands that make up Tiwi, Bathurst to Melville) grew up and still live; the post-Motown R&B-fed grooves of close-harmony boyband Boyz II Men; modern-day production values and disruptions.
If you can embrace all this – and it ain’t difficult at all, not once you hear the music – then you’ll find (2213) Home, the debut album from B2M, a richly rewarding experience. Their songs are infectious, unashamedly sentimental and often inspirational, shot through with the sort of close-knit vocal harmonies that come about through years of touring. B2M’s values are solid, decent. Their dances are sexy but clean. You won’t find a swear word here. These fellas are well aware of their status as role models to younger generations and as keepers of their communities’ identity.
After forming in 2004 (the band still features four of the original line-up), B2M’s first official release came in 2011 with the release of Japparik’a, the Tiwi Bombers’ football anthem. Home is an album 10 years in the making.
Band leaders Jeffrey “Yello” Thomas Simon and Greg Orsto, James “Fab” Kantilla, Daniel Cunningham, Darren Narul and 22-year-old dancer Shelton Murray (all members sing) have headlined any number of Indigenous festivals, played Indonesia and East Timor, represented Australia in China, performed at parliament house, made videos promoting cyber safety for the justice department (Strong Choices), supported Tina Arena where they brought out superstar Indigenous singer Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu for the encore, and held songwriting workshops for young people in remote Northern Territory communities.
The group started off following the boyband template, but with ages ranging up to 51 (Orsto), they can hardly still be counted as such. You can hear traces of that original template on songs like the Take That bump ‘n’ grind of Lose You and good-time album closer Only One, but as you’d expect from such an experienced touring band, their range is far greater these days.
On songs like the infectiously upbeat opener Awi, B2M switch seamlessly from MC rap mode to full-on balladry in the space of a few beats. The song’s haunting background chant of “whoa-oh whoa-oh whoa-oh” had my three-year-old daughter dancing round the kitchen yesterday, demanding immediate replays.
On other songs – the first single Parlingarri, for example – the group had to obtain special permission from their island’s elders to use the Tiwi chant at the song’s start. Previously these chants had never been heard outside the Tiwi islands. Parlingarri means dreamtime or “a long time ago” and is another upbeat affair with its slightly tongue-in-cheek raps from various members asserting their people’s right to the land – and the modern-day trappings of such.
There are a couple of terrific moments towards the end of the album; the fervent but controlled gospel harmonies on the devotional Let it Shine, and the song that follows it, Hear My Prayer. On both these songs, B2M really work with the boundaries of their chosen genres – R&B, boyband balladry, deeply held Aboriginal customs and beliefs – to create songs of real, lasting value.
The heavily punctuated, polysynthetic Tiwi language – recognised as a language isolate (a language with no evident genetic relationship with any other language) – comes into its own on Parlingarri and the fast-paced title track, boasting rap flows which, while they might not be as accomplished as the latest D’Angelo album, are certainly personable enough.
Muli Muli La features an affectionate spoken word exchange that enlivens an otherwise ordinary “Hey girl/What’s your name” type dance number.
Where the album dips is when the band throw in one too many well-meant ballads. Don’t Hear Them, with its shoutouts to family members, recalls Spice Girls’ rather cloying, but equally as well-meant Mama.
Mamunta, a mid-paced ode to their island home complete with a heartfelt middle section stating “we are dedicated to the proposition all men are created equal”, is too syrupy for my tastes. (Even so, I would love to see their take on this Mariah Carey collaboration.)
Mistake, with its downbeat but beautifully pitched harmonies admonishing reckless behaviour, works much better. A possible future single, not least because it could tie in with another promotional campaign warning youth against the dangers of binge drinking or lax road safety.
Home is, in the main, an uplifting, congenial debut album from a band that deserve much wider attention.
• (2213) Home is out now on Skinnyfish Music
