Scratch your head and furrow your brow, but no, you're sure you can't place him....Aniff Akinola? No, I don't think...no, I'm sure I haven't run across him before.
Which is probably your first reaction to hearing the name of the man behind Manchester's really rather wonderful IRONWEED. But, before we get to what he's doing now, let's consider Aniff's CV for a moment. Because it includes the following: Discovering A GUY CALLED GERALD and producing and co-writing his enormously influential "Voodoo Ray" single; co-writing and producing URBAN COOKIE COLLECTIVE'S "The Key, The Secret"; co-writing KIRSTY MacCOLL'S "Walking Down Madison"...oh, and of course writing and producing "Baddest Ruffest" by BACKYARD DOGS which would go on to become the World Cup theme music.
So you see Aniff Akinola has actually quietly been influencing our lives for some time from the shadows, but with IRONWEED he finally takes to something akin to centre-stage, even though you get the feeling the spotlight may not be his natural environment.
He'll have to get used to it should he have more of the quality of "Down To My Grave", however, for this remarkable collision of 1930s dustbowl blues a la Son House or Charley Patton sitting in with Alabama 3 is one of the most unusual and brilliant things you're liable to hear all year.
This reviewer had previously come across the track as the eyebrow-raising opening tune from Fat Northerner's "Digital Northerner" compilation, but on its' lonesome it's no less potent and still comes over as the real, fucked-up and propulsive electro-blues deal: scratchier than a crate of sandpaper, low-ridin' of groove and soaked in Aniff's honey and bourbon vocal. "There are times when I like to indulge myself and get reealll melancholy on that old ironweed," he drawls at one point, "but I didn't partake today." Oh yeah? Pull the other one, it's got those sampled train bells on, right?
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Brilliantly, there's also a mightily effective remix of "Down To My Grave" included for good measure and it's almost up there with the original. This time, it's redemptive, upfront and real slo-o-o-ww musically and considerably friendlier musically, though the self-apocalypse lyric remains nihilistically intact. It's quite a renovation job and every bit as engaging as in its' startling original form.
Ironweed, then, are an act to remember. This time, Aniff Akinola's name can't fail to become public knowledge on a much larger scale.
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