Over the past couple of years of this site’s 15 year history, I’ve managed to spill copious amounts of virtual ink covering Antananarivo, Madagascar-based JOVM mainstays LohArano. Since their formation, the Malagasy metal outfit — Mahalia Ravoajanahary (vocals, guitar), Michael Raveloson (bass, vocals) and Natiana Randrianasoloson (drums, vocals) — have received attention both nationally and internationally for a unique, boundary pushing sound that features elements of popular and beloved Malagasy musical styles like Tsapiky and Salegy with heavy metal.
The Madagascar-based outfit’s sound and approach represents a bold generation of Malagasy youth that still honors, reveres and respects the traditions and practices of their culture and elders, while also being deeply inspired by contemporary, Western genres and styles.
The JOVM’s latest EP YMAIMA as the band explains is “a mirror. It’s a finger pointed at a truth we’d rather keep quiet.” Thematically and lyrically, the EP’s material takes an unvarnished and unflinchingly honest look at the often brutal reality of their homeland, “which bleeds between muffled cries and complicit silence” they say.
Earlier this month I wrote about “Mpaka Taova (Organ Dealer),” arguably one of the most abrasive, Suicidal Tendencies-meets-Body Count-like tracks that they’ve released to date while retaining the accessible, mosh pit friendliness that they’ve long been known for. The song as the band explains talks about organ dealers who kidnap children. Frequently, these child victims are later found mutated — or never found at all. The song serves as a forceful refusal to forget these victims and cries out for justice for them.
YMAIMA EP‘s latest single “Rodo” is a System of a Down-like ripper full of weird time signature and tempo changes, bruising riffage, thunderous drumming paired with Ravoajanahary punchily delivered shouts and howls. The song as the band explains shines a spotlight on the dahalo (traditionally zebu thieves), who have transformed into more organized and violent groups, quickly become a symbol of the country’s disorder and insecurity, as these groups pillage communities across the island nation. The band mentions that musically, the song is inspired by Kilalaky music and dance, which originated in southwestern Madagascar. The music is frequently played during dahalo celebrations after a successful zebu theft.
They go on to say that the song thematically recounts a day in the life of a fictional dahalo, delving into the mental, spiritual and physical preparation until the moment he and his crew clash with locals and police officers in the village they wanted to pillage. The song — with an almost lived-in accuracy — describes the chaos of these violent clashes, including manhunts across the countryside, members of the crew getting caught and burned alive by villagers and ad desperately hasty retreat into the bush. This leads to a vicious and seemingly endless cycle of vengeance for our song’s narrator.