Over the course of the past couple of years of this site’s 13-plus year history, I’ve managed to spill quite a bit of virtual ink on the Antananarivo, Madagascar-based JOVM mainstays LohArano. Now, if you’ve been frequenting this site during that same period, you’d recall that 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.
Continuing upon their reputation for being one of the hardest working and prolific acts in the global scene, the Malagasy trio released the Bae Nosy EP earlier this year, which featured, the urgent, mosh pit friendly EP title track “Bae Nosy.”
Building upon a growing international profile, the Malagasy JOVM mainstays went on to tour across the UK and France. The French tour featured a handful of dates opening for the legendary Fishbone. Along with that, “Bae Nosy” landed airplay from FERAROCK, which broadcasts across France, Switzerland, Belgium and Canada, and 50 other stations globally. The EP’s previous single “Koitra” landed on Spotify’s All New Metal and New Blood playlists, Deezer’s Metal Detector and Women of Metal playlists, Tidal’s New Metal playlist and over 250 other playlists.
The band closes out the year with the standalone single “Velirano.” “Velirano” is power chord-driven, mosh pit ripper fueled by the righteous outrage of people who have been fucked with, beaten down and cheated and have had enough. It’s the sound of young people frustrated with the same ol’ okie doke when the world is on fire, and the elders and authorities don’t have the same urgency.
The band explains that the song sees the band satirizing the contemporary politics and political situation of their homeland. They go on to say that they see their politicians taking advantage of a people living in misery, and are forced to accept whatever crumbs they’re given to survive. In the song, the politician character is — perhaps for the first time — being honest. In some way, the song feels a bit like a contemporary Malagasy version of Living Colour‘s “Cult of Personality,” and The Wall in which the politician reveals a violent, dystopian dictatorial fantasy.
The accompanying video features the band’s Mahalia Ravoajanahary as a sort of headbanging politician at the pulpit ripping it up behind her. Play loud and then open up that pit — right now!
