Watcha Clan

It’s been ten years since the music of Watcha Clan started moving to the rhythm of the waters of the Mediterranean. The ten year watershed has marked a new start for the band. After contemplating the idea of changing their name as a form of rebirth to revitalise their creativity, the reunited clan is still with us to present Diaspora Hi-Fi, their new project. The party continues… This fluid scene’s distinctive electro sound powers the clan into new territory. Speeding forward through frenetic rhythms or rendering homage to their roots, the clan, a real family embodied in the voice of Sista K, never forget their destiny or their mission, their search for space and freedom. Above all, they are true nomads in the world of music. Nomadic means independent, and it has always been crucial for this clan to make their own decisions, go forward at their own pace and set their own agenda. As they go out on the road again Sista K, Clem, Matt and Soupa Ju – who has moved his talents from the sunlight to the comparative obscurity of management to great effect – met the independent Berlin label PIRANHA Musik. By a happy calendar coincidence, this is PIRANHA’s 20th year in business, and so this fusion of worlds and meeting of generations came at the perfect time. In a buzz of mutual esteem, the two parties decided to nurture the Diaspora Hi-Fi project together. Always on the move, Sista K’s family history is intimately entwined with her music. She’s Ashkenazi through her mother and Sephardic and Berber through her father, an Algerian independence fighter who was French before he was born (an 1870 decree gave French nationality to the Jewish population of Algeria). She could have been born in the land of Israel, where her parents met, but saw the light of day in the shadow of Marseille’s Bonne Mère. La Belle de Mai, La Busserine, Le Merlan are all inextricably part of her personal geography; her own Bermuda Triangle in which she could never loose herself and which helped forge the consummate woman she is today. “Back then,” she says, “in the northern quarters of Marseille, no-one cared who was Jewish and who was Muslim. We all lived together, and life was always stimulating.” Jewish, Muslim, Catholic or atheist? It doesn’t matter, she seems to be saying, as long as you have faith. Faith in man and woman, for no other reason than brotherhood, Sista! This expansion of the heart denies the very idea of borders. Whether free to move or driven to do so, these men and women represent a possible future, a plausible future, even if Théodore Monod, the wise man’s wise man whom they sample generously, once said: “For the State, a free man is unacceptable…” Altruistic dealers in cultures and humanities, they juggle rhythms and languages (French, Arabic, Hebrew, English) to the beat of the memories they have, the people they meet and the places they see. From the Eastern European melodies Karine’s mother sang to her when she was little to the chaabi, the Algerian blues Nassim the “khouya” (brother) from Oran, a friend and collaborator since 2003, introduced them to, from the cherifian grooves of Amarg Fusion to the burning lyrics of the Bourbia brothers, the MCs of Tox from Oran, to the hip-hop kick that appeals to Clem, the clan’s music man and sampler extraordinaire; Diaspora Hi-Fi, their new album, sings with the freedom of spirit of travelling people. “It gets us involved, it motivates us,” Ka and Clem say in chorus. “We saw where our road was leading, and we’ve been on that road since.” They’re free and committed, and above all, they are nomads. Squaaly.