For some inexplicable reason Fela Kuti and the all too unrecognized genre of Afrobeat has been given a second life. The early 2000s saw the re-issues for Fela begin and the conclusion was a CD/DVD set that include a pretty fascinating look into what his daily life was like. But with these re-releases, an even more important event occurred. White dudes started playing afrobeat. Of course, funk and jazz bands have been integrated for a pretty long time at this point and the world probably has a few too many white blues scholars, but this new interest in the genre has spurred on countless releases.

One of the groups that sprung up - and for some reason was ignored for a while - is Ann Arbor's NOMO. Bringing in the informed perspective of a music student as well as the expansive musical taste of anyone who lives in a college town after graduating, NOMO has been releasing full lengths since 2004. I do recall them coming through my town a few times with little fan fare around this time. And for whatever reason the local alternative weeklies decided to focus on Roy Bookbinder or whoever else. That just made those Midwest appearances all the more interesting. It was kinda empty.

To define NOMO as just an afrobeat band would be ignorant for a number of reasons. Since the music is being played in the states, it's basically an overly accented funk. The music maintains its polyrhythmic qualities and is still focused upon horn lines that define the melodic tone of the tunes, but there are a slew of additional influences here.

The new disc, released through Ubiquity and entitled Invisible Cities, counts a few defining covers amongst its scant nine tracks. The second offering from the disc, "Bumbo," is a Moondog song. And while Moondog isn't a household name, the avant crowd has christened him many things - genius is amongst them. But the blind street performer worked in an oft minimal setting tossing in strings and woodwinds. The NOMO version of the track takes the band's basic inclination for funk grooves adds an off kilter bounce to the rhythm as well as some atmospheric electronics to complete one of the highlights of the disc.

The Tom Ze cover a few tracks latter works to lesser affect, but both of these reworkings finds the band moving funk in a Tom Waits direction. The bassy horn lines embody some twisted Waitsian demeanor as the percussive backing band muscles its way towards the fait accompli.

NOMO's originals, though, are at least as interesting as these covers. There's a crime soundtrack feeling that runs throughout, but that might just be my perception. Thumb pianos don't abound, but lend a nice touch to a few places. But what makes this band actually count is the fact that, while they aren't the JB's, live they can end up making a crowd move in the same way. And really even if their albums stunk, moving a people is of the utmost importance. It always will be.