[rating=3.00]
Like their adopted African roots, Toubab Krewe’s music is meant to be shared, not locked behind soundproof glass, so while Orange Peel does at times lose some bite beneath the club’s high ceilings and constant white noise, it captures the band better than their 2005 studio debut. All those shuffling feet, clinking glasses and muffled conversations are as essential as their djimbes and koras: they may play gourds with holes and stretched animal skins, but Toubab Krewe are as American as their audience.
The album takes until “Roy Forester” to get moving, and Umar Bin Hassan’s crisp, decisive spoken word pushes the track a step beyond its (albeit livelier) rehashing of “Lamine’s Tune.” Bin Hassan breaks a few of Drew Heller’s machete-sharp Les Paul licks as he stumbles clumsily into “Moose,” but an adventurous closing jam leads to Tarrantino cowboy surf-rock redemption on “Buncombe to Badala,” which, along with the hip-hugging guitar groove and zydeco shuffle of “51 Ft. Ladder,” is a highlight amidst a selection of live tracks that, while at times lost in translation, capture a uniquely American band in a familiar American setting.
